I didn’t find it strange. If I were a self-absorbed genius with the knowledge and resources to repopulate an entire planet, I, too, would’ve found it hard to believe that I was as bad as my maker had thought me to be. Ta’Zan had rejected reality, choosing instead to focus on hating the Draenir and blaming them for shunning him and Mudak. The plague had been his response.
We stood outside the camp for a while, as the young Draenir pointed their serium-powered weapons at Amane, Kallisto, Leah, Samael, Douma, and Raphael. Raphael had insisted that they stay together and keep their distance from the tribe, at least until we sorted things out with the Draenir. Raphael didn’t want to risk infecting the survivors, either, assuming that Amane and the other Faulties could still be carrying a mutated version of the virus. If present, it was most likely dormant and it could activate once in contact with full Draenir. The Perfects, too, had Draenir roots, but they were made long after the plague virus died out.
In the midst of all this, I couldn’t take my eyes off Bogdana, the fabled fae, the oldest of her kind. She looked beautiful, with hair the color of harvest grain and honey eyes. There were fine expression lines drawn on her face, but nothing else to suggest any kind of aging. For a fae well over ten thousand years old, Bogdana was stunning. But her aura was conflicted, equal parts curiosity and fear. She was definitely keeping secrets. Then again, a creature as old as Bogdana was bound to have an army of skeletons in her figurative closet.
“They cannot set foot in the camp,” Rakkhan said, scowling at Amane. He’d said this before, but he kept repeating it, angry and snappy, like a loyal guard dog protecting his herd.
“We’ll stay back,” Raphael replied, keeping his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Worry not, sir, we’ll keep our distance. We didn’t know what Amane had done when we brought her with us, I promise you,” he added, scowling at her.
“None of us knew,” Ridan muttered, crossing his arms and giving her equally furious sideways glances. “She lied to us.”
“I didn’t tell you. I kept it a secret. Big difference,” Amane said, her voice breaking.
“Well, you should’ve known by now that secrets tend to kill!” Rose said, her brow furrowed. “Now, we’re risking another outbreak because of you!”
“Hey, I kept my distance for a reason!” Amane replied.
“But that’s what you’ve been hiding from us!” Kallisto snapped. “I knew there was something off about you! I knew it!”
Amane groaned, then rolled her eyes. “Ugh, enough with the I-told-you-so’s, Kallisto! Your gloating is exhausting.”
“You lied to us!” Kallisto shouted, and Samael gently pulled her back.
“Enough,” he mumbled. “We can’t turn on each other. Not now.”
Amane sighed deeply, lowering her head. “I am sorry, for what it’s worth,” she said. “I didn’t realize at the time that what I was doing was bad. Ta’Zan sold me and my sister a good, believable story about how the Draenir were evil… about how they wanted us dead. The years went by, and when I saw the bodies piling up, I started to have doubts. They could’ve worked harder to find a cure. We’d made one prior to releasing the plague, after all. If we could do it, they could, too.”
“We didn’t find a cure. That’s obvious, isn’t it?” Rakkhan replied. “We tried, but our most brilliant minds in the field were the first to die out. In the end, we figured that maybe the universe was punishing us. In a way, we too had played a minor part in Ta’Zan’s descent into darkness and evil. Our society never wanted him, though he tried hard to be a part of it. We never gave him a chance. I think many of us feared his brilliance. Then, we arrested his maker for the Draenir he’d killed in order to bring Ta’Zan to life. From there on, it went downhill pretty fast, particularly after Mudak killed himself. In hindsight, I can see why Ta’Zan would’ve wanted us all dead.”
The part about Mudak killing Draenir was new to all of us.
“Hold on,” I said. “What Draenir are you referring to?”
“The females he tried to use as surrogate mothers,” Rakkhan explained. “I wasn’t specific, my apologies. He didn’t kill them, per se. But he was considered responsible, hence the accusations and arrest. Their bodies simply couldn’t carry the pregnancy to term, and the females he got involved were not made aware of the deadly risks, from what I remember.”
There was a span of silence, before Amane murmured, tearing up, “I swear to you, if I could go back and undo what I did, I would. I wouldn’t even think about it. I’d step away, I’d do everything in my power to stop Ta’Zan from destroying the world. Alas, it’s too late for that. I can’t change what I did, what I allowed to happen… But I’m here now, with these outsiders, looking for a way to stop Ta’Zan before his vitriol spills into the rest of the universe, disguised as the ‘perfect society’ he claims he’s building. There’s nothing perfect or progressive about wiping out entire species. I know that now.”
Rose exhaled. “In her defense, Amane has been a crucial support in our quest to rescue our people and to keep Ta’Zan from taking his Perfects off the planet. Granted, progress has been slow, but things have changed since we came upon Raphael and Douma. They’re two Perfects who are more than willing to help us, to stop their maker from doing more harm. We’re in this together, Elder Rakkhan. We’re all aiming to put an end to something that should’ve stopped centuries ago.”
Draven cleared his throat. “At this point, I think we need to straighten something out,” he said to Rakkhan. “We have all the resources and power we need to compel you all to help us. Heron and his wards alone could change your minds in an instant. You’re not hybrids, but pure Draenir, and susceptible to a Mara’s mind-bending. Heron’s already tried it, discreetly, on one of your boys. But we won’t resort to such measures. We need you to help us willingly. It’s the only way for an alliance to work. The world is not safe anymore, Rakkhan. Not for us, not for you, not for anyone else.”
“And we can’t sit on the edge of it anymore,” Rakkhan replied, shaking his head slowly, then looked up at Rose and Ben. “We need to talk.”
“Let’s go inside your hut and do that,” Draven said. “The Faulties and Perfects can stay out here for as long as you require. They’re kind and patient enough to wait and respect your wishes.”
Raphael chuckled. “Kind, yes. Patient, not so much. I just don’t want the Draenir to get all trigger-happy on us. I don’t like the look of those weapons, and I sure as hell don’t want to know what they can do. Not while we’re in the crosshairs.”
A moment passed in awkward silence, before I finally did what I’d been dying to do since I’d seen Draven, Serena, and the others. I hugged them, one by one, including the wards, who, despite their formal training, wound up smiling and holding me tight. I couldn’t read the Maras’ emotions, but their expressions were clear. They were so happy to see us alive and well.
“We’ve been on the edge since you got here,” Serena told me, then gave me an apologetic smile. “We were going to use a tracking spell to find you, but we stumbled upon the Draenir as soon as we landed.”
“You should’ve sent us a message through the interplanetary spell, to tell us you were coming,” Ben replied.
“We did, actually,” Draven said, frowning. “I take it you never got it.”
We all shook our heads. “We had no idea you were coming.” Zeriel sighed. “We would’ve prepared the welcoming committee and everything. The fruits here are absolutely delicious.”
Heron laughed lightly. “Yeah, we know. The girls brought some back during the building process on Noagh,” he replied, then went back to his serious mode. “Still, it’s weird you didn’t get the interplanetary spell message. It was a short one, just to advise you that we were coming, and that we were going to use a tracking charm to find you, to avoid setting up a meeting place and drawing any Perfect attention.”
Rose rested her hands on her hips. “What if the spell was intercepted?” she asked. “We’ve been sending some
of these light bubbles back and forth already. Maybe the Perfects finally noticed them and found a way to stop them from reaching their destination.”
The realization sank in with sonic speed, making my stomach drop. “That would put the last message we sent out at risk, too,” I said. “Our only form of communication would be compromised.”
Nevis looked at Raphael, narrowing his icy blue eyes. “Do you think it’s possible?” he asked the Perfect.
“Absolutely,” Raphael replied. “If Ta’Zan thinks you’re trying to weasel your way around his restrictions, including comms-related ones, then yes, I think he’d find a way to intercept those fancy light blobs you shoot out into the cosmos. Not to mention the ones coming for you. He would want you all cut off, isolated, while he hunts you down.”
“I’d love to find out how he’s doing it,” Lumi interjected, bitterly amused. “Because an interplanetary spell has a lock-on protocol. Once you send it, it’s supposed to be unstoppable.”
“I do hate how we’ve reached a point where not even swamp witch magic is unbreakable anymore,” Kailani murmured.
“Nothing is unbreakable,” Lumi replied. “That being said, some things are harder to crack than others, including swamp witch magic. It would take a lot of power, or energy, for that matter, to divert an interplanetary spell. So, my question is, what kind of technology is Ta’Zan using that is capable of breaking a swamp witch spell?”
Rakkhan groaned, then pinched the bridge of his nose. His frustration was practically oozing out of him. He motioned for us to go into the camp. “Let’s talk inside,” he said. “I might know how he’s doing it.”
We didn’t wait to be told twice. Rakkhan went in, followed by us and the Draenir guards. Four of the boys stayed outside a hundred yards from the main entrance, keeping an eye on Amane and the others. The Faulties were clearly baffled upon hearing about Amane, as was Raphael. Douma no longer remembered her past, so I didn’t expect a specific reaction from her.
From my crew, Ridan had taken it the hardest. His aura flared a dark red. There was grief and disappointment in his heart. He’d been getting close to Amane, and what he was going through now was something akin to a heartbreak. He probably knew that she’d been truthful as far as her regrets were concerned but, still… it hurt.
Nevertheless, we were stepping into new territory now. We had to keep our eyes on the ball.
Kailani
Rakkhan’s hut looked small on the outside, but there was a decent amount of space inside. At first sight, I didn’t even think we’d all fit. Granted, the wards and the Draenir had stayed out by the door. Rakkhan was old, but still held himself up straight and proud. His presence had a certain effect on us, demanding respect and reverence. I understood why Draven had been reluctant to use his resources to force the old Draenir into helping us. Some people you could push around. Others, like Rakkhan, required a bit more finesse.
We spent the next hour bringing each other up to speed and putting together all the pieces of this enormously complicated puzzle. Rakkhan’s knowledge of Strava prior to the plague helped, too, but there were still some crucial details missing—the main ones revolving around Ta’Zan’s operations and weak spots.
“Okay, so let me see if we have this straight,” Ben said, sitting next to Rose. “Ta’Zan was created approximately three and a half centuries ago, by Mudak Marduk, one of your own,” he added, looking at Rakkhan.
“Mudak Marduk was one of our brightest,” Rakkhan said. “A brilliant mind, from beginning to end. He dedicated his life to genetic engineering. At first, it was solely to prevent and cure various forms of disease, to increase crop production… you know, the basics of science aiding the development of a species. But then, he started playing with gene editing, to create new life on his own. Soon enough, he established his own department within our science ministry, dedicated solely to that type of research. For a long time, we encouraged him. The youngsters that were fresh off the science academy’s benches were more than happy to work with him. It went well and in our favor, because the discoveries he made along the way helped us weed out congenital defects in the unborn Draenir. But then, he got more ambitious, and… one day, he called the entire council for an emergency meeting.”
“Were you there?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I was in the engineering department, with little to no involvement in his work at the time. Mudak presented them with a blueprint for a hybrid. He’d been traveling and collecting DNA materials from various worlds, and he’d returned with a formula of sorts, with a Draenir gene base. To him, it was the next stage in our growth as a species. Most of the council didn’t like what he was suggesting. It was as if we weren’t good enough. Nevertheless, they didn’t stop him. They thought he’d fail. For a while, he did, but then, at some point… it worked. And Ta’Zan was born,” he said, then looked at Bogdana. “You were gone by then. I remember now.”
Silence fell heavily on us, as all eyes were on Bogdana.
“You know, we never got around to talking,” Lumi cut in. “Bogdana, you promised us that once we set foot on Strava, you’d tell us what you know about this world. Granted, we’ve been a little busy with the Draenir, but still, I urged Draven to give you some time, to let you tell us what you need to tell us, willingly. Now, given the circumstances, I think it’s about damn time you start talking.”
“We’ve kept our end of the deal. We brought you here,” Avril murmured.
“You brought her here because she’s been to Strava before,” Elonora reminded herself. We hadn’t had a chance to fully understand how Bogdana had come to be here, but we knew that her presence had a purpose. Draven and Serena never would’ve brought her along otherwise.
“And it’s time for me to tell you what I know.” Bogdana sighed, prompting Lumi to chuckle.
“No, darling, the time for you to tell us what you know was a couple of days ago,” the swamp witch said. “Now’s your chance to redeem yourself and also tell us why you weren’t in a rush to hold up your end of the bargain.”
“The Elder Rakkhan remembers you,” I said. “Did you two know each other?”
Rakkhan shrugged. “More or less.”
“I came to Strava multiple times over the course of two thousand years. About four hundred years ago was my last trip,” Bogdana said. “I was part of multiple diplomatic missions on behalf of my fire star, during a time when reaching out to our neighbors was the natural thing to do. We met the Draenir; we exchanged knowledge and resources where possible; we simply learned about each other as we tried to understand our place in the universe. Strava was my favorite mission because of its islands, its perfect waters, and its pristine nights. Rarely have I seen a world so beautiful.”
Elonora huffed. “She’s not telling us something. I see deception, or at least the intention of it.”
“Don’t mess with a sentry,” Lumi said to Bogdana, a grin slitting her face.
“Bogdana knew Mudak well,” Rakkhan replied, the shadow of a smile fluttering across his face as he sat down and leaned back in his chair, his joints cracking, unforgiven by the passage of time.
Once again, our jaws dropped as we shifted our focus back to Bogdana, who let out a frustrated sigh.
“I knew him well. He was my guide at first, during one of my visits,” she said. “My interest in his work grew over time. We spent a lot of time together. I had a pretty good understanding of what he was trying to do, and why.”
“You’re not telling us anything new,” Draven replied. “We knew that already.”
“Mudak and I were… close,” Bogdana mumbled, unable to look any of us in the eye.
“Yeah, we know that, too, you’ve said it bef—” Heron replied, before Avril squeezed his shoulder. They looked at each other for a while, until Heron figured out what Avril’s smirk was trying to say. “Oh. That kind of close.”
Bogdana nodded. “I don’t even remember when or how it happened, but there was a bond there. I was with him for a f
ew decades, supporting him in his work and his genetic research. I gave him some of my DNA to help him, too.”
“Oh, wow,” Rose managed, her eyes nearly popping out of their orbits. “Don’t tell me you were part of the genetic matrix he used to create Ta’Zan.”
“I’m not sure. I never met Ta’Zan,” Bogdana replied. “It could be. From the moment Mudak first presented the genetic blueprint until the moment Ta’Zan was conceived, about forty years passed. I was there for the last twenty, constantly, as I’d temporarily moved to Strava to be with Mudak.”
“That, I can confirm,” Rakkhan said. “We saw plenty of Bogdana for years prior to Ta’Zan’s birth. She used to visit the other departments to study our resources, including my engineering department. It was part of the cultural and scientific exchange program that her world had set up with mine. But, shortly before the devil was born, Bogdana vanished. We thought something might’ve happened to her, until Mudak confirmed that she’d left him.”
“But why?” Rose asked Bogdana, whose cheeks were flushed pink.
“I… I didn’t like what he was doing. He was obsessing over this idea of creating superior life. He was so busy criticizing himself and the Draenir, considering himself and his entire species insufficient, inferior… even malign. I kept trying to convince him that he was a good person, that he wasn’t looking at things the right way. To him, the Draenir were despicable, weak, and unable to survive a full natural circle—”
“Ah, we’re talking about eons, here. Entire planetary cycles,” Lumi replied.
Bogdana gave her a brief nod. “Mudak thought that at the first major planetary crisis—you know, an asteroid crash or solar flares, or anything that could permanently disrupt and alter Strava’s climate and behavior—he thought the Draenir wouldn’t survive. Even with their scientific and medical advances, Mudak was convinced they would be wiped out. So, he began devising the next step on the ‘evolutionary ladder’ of the Draenir.”
A Shade of Vampire 65: A Plague of Deceit Page 3
