Collision: The Battle for Darracia - Book 2 (The Darracia Saga)

by Michael Phillip Cash

  While V’sair knew his uncle was still out there, planning something, the pressing problems of unrest lay heavy on his young shoulders. He missed his father’s quiet strength, he missed his brother’s support, he missed Tulani’s unconditional love. He was bereft.

  His heart melted when he thought of Tulani. They had known each other forever, but he only realized what she meant to him when they learned the secrets of the Fireblade together. When his cousin threatened her with bodily harm, he discovered he was capable of a killing rage that filled him with white-hot lava. His heart and mind knew Tulani, and he felt connected to her in a way he had never experienced before. When the good general had brought up a marriage alliance with a princess of another planet, V’sair silenced his grand mestor with royal finality. He wanted no one but the Quyroo high priestess. Tulani was as much a part of him as his arm, or eyes. He would wait forever until they could find peace in each other’s arms.

  The warm, wet tongue of Felise bathed his hand. Twining his fingers in the curly black hair on the top of her head, he looked down, a smile tugging at his lips with her mournful eyes. His mother had gifted him with a newborn jast mere days after his father was murdered. His pet was a mess, nervous to be separated from her litter, her clumsy paws tracking in the red dust that always drifted onto the balconies. Felise rubbed her wiry whiskers against his palm, demanding attention in her selfish way. She panted, leaping onto her hind legs, her front paws resting easily on his shoulders, and a laugh escaped his lips. She was not tiny anymore, and a rather big nuisance as well, because while his pet was really still an infant, she had grown to almost half her adult size, and an awesome size it was too.

  He heard the door open and knew it was his mother from her light footsteps. Felise drooled sloppily as she greeted the queen.

  “Walk with me, Vsos.” She came up behind him and rested her hand on his back. He directed Felise to sit with a stern stare and heard his mother chuckle. “Silly beast,” she said fondly, patting her head.

  “It’s cold outside,” he responded looking straight ahead.

  “I don’t care. The fresh air will do you good. I heard that it has stopped raining.” He caught her intense gaze. “You are not eating enough, Vsos.”

  The king shrugged. “I am not hungry.”

  “I think Felise is eating enough for both of you.” She smiled and scratched the giant animal beneath the soft curls of her chin. She turned and rested her hand in the crook of V’sair’s elbow. Her white hair was threaded with black strands now. She had aged since losing her husband. Lines formed around her iridescent eyes, bracketing her once lush lips, giving her the appearance of a constant frown.

  “Tulani would not know you, my son.”

  “Doesn’t make a difference, since she won’t come here.”

  The portal swooshed open, and they stepped onto the balcony connected to the room. They heard the giant jast follow them, her paws clicking on the wet, tiled floor. Two Quyroo guards stood on either side of them, their impassive faces glued to the horizon. The interminable rain had ceased, but it was still overcast; weak sunlight fought to peek through the clouds.

  “You have to allow her time.”

  “Time for what?” V’sair answered hotly. “Anything she can do there”—he pointed a long bluish finger down at the forests—“can be done from here.” His eyes blazed with anger.

  “She feels she is doing you more good down there”—Reminda gestured to the dark planet—“than here. She is the best ambassador you could have.”

  V’sair clicked impatiently with his tongue. “I have shuttles full of willing Quyroos that desire to be ambassadors. We could unite this planet if she were queen!”

  “Yes.” Reminda placed a thoughtful finger next to her temple. “Consider her place, V’sair. You above anyone else should be able to commiserate with her feelings. She is neither Darracian nor Quyroo.”

  “She is full-blooded Quyroo!” V’sair shot back, interrupting her.

  “True,” Reminda said reasonably, “but taken to live among us at three years of age. She can’t be seen as one of them until she is accepted by them. Tulani understood for this to succeed, she must gain their confidence and then take her place by your side. Vsos, I don’t understand; usually you are the most amiable of creatures.”

  “This is harder than I thought.” V’sair pulled her by her hand to walk the parapets, far from the guards. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore. I don’t know if I want to do this.”

  “V’sair, this is your destiny,” Reminda told him urgently. “Even Ozre told you that. I…I never expected this to be thrust on you so early. Your father and I still had so much work to do, but”—she shrugged, her eyes glittering with unshed tears—“this is what it is, and we have to make do with what we have.”

  “It is a test, but for what I don’t know,” V’sair told her absently. “I just wish Tulani were here with me, Mo’mo. She is my rock.”

  “She needs to finish what she has started. Being a priestess is complicated. She must learn how to use her power.”

  “Pah!” V’sair clicked his tongue. “If I were not king and she not a daughter of Nost, we could be together. This life you chose for me has become a burden. I wish Dado was here.”

  Reminda sighed, eyeing her son sadly. “We did not expect you have to take the throne until you were much older. Your father had plans; he wanted to teach you many things.”

  “I don’t know how to do this. The Quyroos are unhappy, the Darracians are unhappy, I am unhappy. This is hard, Mo’mo. I don’t know how to make them get along.”

  “Patience. You have never learned patience.”

  V’sair rested his hands on the terrace wall, his face scanning the vast city spread out before him. “First Zayden runs off to slay his dragon, when I need him here. Then Tulani discovers she must learn about her Desa and make the Quyroos love her, before she can commit. What about me?” he demanded, turning to face his mother. “I need their help.”

  “Well, at least you have me,” she told him with a smile and a quick shrug.

  “Oh aye, I am sorry, Mo’mo. I am being unreasonable.” He looked at her sheepishly, a lock of white hair falling over his blue eyes. “It’s just that…it…”

  He looked so young; Reminda’s heart softened. She reached out to push his hair from his eyes, thought better of it, and smiled gently. “Dado is gone. Emmicus as well. I know it’s hard, Vsos, but everybody’s life has been changed. The New Doctrines have shaken Darracian society to its core. You have to give everything time.”

  The whole of Darracia had been turned upside down, Reminda thought ruefully. Such a lot of nonsense simply because V’sair had shown them that the Fireblade could be earned and used by all. Darracians were not special, their superiority not guaranteed, and the whole species now had to relearn to fire their blade to the blue of courage and justice, rather than the red of anger and intolerance. Schools had shut down, chanters met for conferences, creating new interpretations and criteria so that all the inhabitants of this planet could share its bounty to live as equals with the same opportunities.

  But there was opposition. Many clans stayed away from court, keeping their Darracian sons and daughters from mixing with the Quyroo who now were finding new positions other than the serving class. Why, just the other day, she had heard that a wealthy merchant had disowned his daughter for marrying a Quyroo communications officer. These new customs were going to take time. She looked at the fine lines of worry on her son’s face. Both she and Drakko had wanted to bring about the changes slowly, not thrust them on her teenage son. And, she wondered angrily, where were the Elements? Why did they topple the old beliefs and then simply go silent? It made no sense.

  “Have you asked the Elements for guidance?”

  V’sair turned to look at the city again, his eyes distant. He shrugged. “Yes, of course. They never tell you anything.” He added sarcastically, “They wait for you to have the illumination.”

  “So
, did you?” his mother asked.

  “Yes, yes, Mother. I understand that we all have to look inside of ourselves to find our strength.”

  “And…”

  “Well, I’ve done that already,” he added indignantly.

  “That’s very nice, but what about Zayden and Tulani?”

  V’sair didn’t answer for a moment. He sighed and looked at his mother, his face relaxing. “I know, Mo’mo. Just because I have found myself, I have to allow the others to catch up to me. I didn’t say I have to like it.”

  Reminda smiled and squeezed his arm. “I know it feels like forever, but it will really be a very short part of your life, this waiting. What is it, V’sair?” Reminda saw his lips turn down in a thoughtful frown.

  “Ozre.”

  “Go on.”

  “I am concerned. I have not heard from him in months.”

  “Perhaps you are not praying hard enough?”

  V’sair gave her a sidelong look. “Me? Oh, I pray hard enough.”

  “Maybe you are praying for the wrong things?” his mother asked gently.

  V’sair didn’t answer, his eyes searching the Desa. The red canopy of trees shielded the Desa floor from prying eyes; he could see nothing through the tangled forest. The wet treetops glittered as if they were dusted with rubies. Still, he watched, wishing he could see Tulani and know that she was ready to join him. His fisted palm absently pounded the balustrade. Felise jumped up, pushing next to him, and from the rear they looked as if they were two friends looking out on the city. V’sair grinned, knowing the jast was watching him; he let himself lean into her strong shoulder. Reminda smiled at his shortened white braid. It would take a while until it grew back. His cousin Pacuto had hacked it off in a fight. It was what marked him as a Darracian royal.

  “Get down, you pestilent beast.” His mother playfully hit Felise on her back. “You spoil her, Vsos. She shouldn’t be out here.”

  “She was your idea.”

  “I thought you might need a friend,” Reminda told him, then added softly, “I know I did.”

  “You miss him, Mo’mo.”

  “You have no idea, Vsos. It’s like there is a great hole inside of me.” She grew quiet, examining the dark plains of her son’s face. He was all sharp angles; the sweet softness of youth disappeared with his lost innocence. He was not the same since his father’s murder. None of them were. His boyhood had flown with the destruction of her dreams. “Such is life, Vsos. We are born, we serve, and then our anima leaves.”

  “Our anima?”

  “Your soul.”

  “A rather empty existence, don’t you think?”

  “I would give up ten lifetimes to have shared what I did with your father, Vsos. I discarded everything I knew for him—my home, my family.” She turned to face him. “And he gave me you. And you gave me Tulani.” She looked out at the Desa, her iridescent eyes narrowing. “Now if only she would finish what she needs to do, come back here, and give me some grandchildren.”

  “Yes,” V’sair agreed. “If only.”

  “Have you thought about the coronation?” Reminda asked briskly, trying to change the mood. She observed her son’s strong shoulders, the light growth of a white beard on his chin. He was no longer a pliable child. This topic was a sore spot. V’sair first refused the ceremony due to the depth of mourning in the court. Many times General Swart had brought it up, but V’sair clearly wasn’t interested. Reminda knew it was something he must do, but now her son could not be forced.

  “It feels strange, Mother. I don’t know if I am ready for it.”

  “Your father would have wanted you to be crowned,” she told him. “This is our way; you were born to be his successor,” she added fiercely.

  “It doesn’t feel right.” V’sair looked back at the dormant volcano, his eyes distant.

  “He is not coming back, Vsos. You must declare your place.”

  “I will consider it, Mo’mo,” he responded forlornly. They stood together watching the day wane and the four moons of Darracia climb the horizon. Gresh chirped their mournful love call nearby, while they both sat in comfortable silence.

  “Are you hungry yet?” Reminda asked, ever the mother.

  “I suppose,” V’sair answered, distracted by a spinning luminescence in the growing twilight. Felise barked loudly at it, racing down the balcony chasing the blazing light. He followed the comet’s arc. “Fon Reni,” he said softly. A thought struck him, and he suddenly knew where his half brother had gone. His blue eyes lit up for the first time in weeks.

  “What is it?” Reminda asked.

  “That’s where my brother is,” he realized with wonder as he watched the comet’s tail light up the night sky. “He must be there. It is where I would go if I could. That’s where he’s staying. He went to Fon Reni—he loves it there.”

  “Will you go to him?’

  “No.” V’sair shook his head. “I can’t leave here.”

  “Surely, for a few days…”

  “No, Mo’mo.” He sighed heavily. “There is too much unrest. There was an incident…”

  “Oh,” Reminda raised a delicate eyebrow, “I hadn’t heard.”

  “I just got the report. General Swart captured a group of malcontents.”

  “Go on,” Reminda urged.

  “They were plotting an assassination. I didn’t want you to know.”

  Reminda gasped, her face paling.

  “Oh, Mo’mo. There was no reason to alarm you. We have it all under control. It’s just the…the people are so very unhappy.” V’sair looked miserable.

  Oh Drakko, Reminda thought sadly, what have we bequeathed to our son? Why couldn’t we just run away and make a life for ourselves? Why did we decide to take on the world and change it?

  “Please don’t worry. It’s been handled.” V’sair gave his mother a lopsided grin. “You know it comes with the job description. Besides, if Zayden is there, he wants to be alone. He is working things out, and once he finds what he needs, he will come home.”

  “You are so sure?” Reminda knew she was going to try to find a way to contact Zayden. His brother needed him now. Enough of his self-pity, she needed him to protect her son, his king.

  “I know Zayden. He loves Fon Reni. You never saw that side of him when we were there. Fon Reni is his spot. You understand?” V’sair asked.

  Reminda nodded her head. “Yes.”

  “If he is there, he will find his peace.”

  “What if he doesn’t?”

  “He will not return until he does,” V’sair told her with decisively. His breath caught in his chest, and he touched the area over his heart. “He will be coming home, I think. No…I know. He will be coming soon.”

  “You see. I told you things will fall into place.” Reminda didn’t know if she was assuring her son or herself.

  “Soon,” V’sair answered her absently. “Yes, soon.”

  They entered the castle, walking arm in arm to the throne room, Felise trailing after them. The fire blazed, it’s incandescence throwing sparks behind the giant fire screen he had installed after his mother and aunt had rolled into the blaze. It heated the room mightily, but a dart of apprehension curled up V’sair’s spine making him shiver involuntarily.

  “What is it?” his mother asked anxiously, her concerned eyes searching his face.

  “I don’t know. I felt something, just for a minute.”

  “What?” she asked, her voice a mere whisper over the soft music playing in the room.

  V’sair’s eyes scanned the many groups clustered in the room. It remained a court in mourning. So many of them had lost members of their families when his uncle engineered a coup taking over the planet and killing his father. No one wore anything but white, the official color of mourning. Even the armed forces still wore the badge of white on their sleeves to mark that the year had not ended. Though Quyroo were invited, they rarely came to his court. The Darracians barely tolerated them. Old wounds healed slowly.

&n
bsp; “A feeling, Mo’mo. Just a feeling.” He narrowed his gaze. “As though someone just danced on my grave.”

  “Stop!” Reminda took his hands. “Don’t even think like that. Come,” she snapped at the musician, “play something lively. This court has had enough sadness.” She held up her webbed hand to stop him. “No, wait, we have mourned enough. It is time to cast off our whites.” She motioned to her new serving girl. “Come, Tosha. Attend me. I will change.” She looked hard at her son. “It’s time to move forward with your father’s plans. I will be right back. Do not speak of graves to me again, my son.”

  The flutist looked at the king, who nodded his head, and the music took on a light, playful sound. Conversations picked up, and Reminda smiled. “You will excuse me, Your Majesty.” She curtsied solemnly.

  V’sair bowed deeply. “As you wish, Mother.” He watched her leave the room, followed by a group of chattering females excited to wear colors once again.

  He looked at the thinned lips and impatient glare of General Swart, took a deep breath, and tried to dispel his unease. He strolled over to his throne and sat down, Felise flopping at his feet, her cheeks resting on his thigh, while he absently stroked her head. For his mother’s sake, he would not mention it again, but while they could get rid of the mourning white, no amount of color was going to make this feeling of foreboding go away.

  Chapter 3

  Tulani rolled on the floor, her arms crusted with dirt and a bit of red mud. She was in a circle, naked save for her loincloth, which was torn and matted with dried blood. A steady drizzle had turned the red dust to a viscous mud that coated everything. It was twice as hard to fight in the slippery muck, and Tulani had the wounds to prove its danger. Long scratches grazed her arms, and her braids lay tangled on her back. She wished for a moment she had allowed Bobbien to tie them into a knot on her head.