Aegis Incursion

by S. S. Segran

Jag was thrown brutally out of the open back doors. He hit the ground hard and tumbled a good distance. Two cries of pain, sounding as if they came from several yards away from him, followed shortly after he rolled to a stop. He groaned as he turned over onto his stomach and pushed himself up to his knees. “Guys?”

  “Oy!” Aari yelled. “That was the stupidest idea ever, you idiot! I won’t be surprised if I’ve cracked a rib!”

  Following the sound of his friend’s voice, Jag unsteadily made his way over to Aari. “Where are you?”

  “Jag? Aari? What happened?”

  The feeble call came from Kody, who sounded like he was getting closer to the pair. The boys froze when they heard a screech of tires close by. A man shouted, “Hit the deck!” before the three were tackled to the ground. At that instant a volley of gunshots rang out.

  The boys stayed down. Jag felt someone pull his blindfold off. When his eyes adjusted to the twilight, his gaze focused on the newcomer who was removing Aari’s and Kody’s blindfolds. His blood turned to ice and he scooted away, his wrists still bound behind him. “You.”

  The man glanced at him. When Aari and Kody at last got a chance to see who the stranger was, they stumbled on their knees toward Jag.

  “You did follow us!” Aari snarled. “Mariah was right!”

  Two more shots flew over them. They ducked, but kept their distance from the man. The man held his hands up where he lay on the grass. “Look, I’m not here to hurt you! You have to believe me!”

  “You attacked us!”

  Bullets hit the stranger’s red Mustang, which was positioned between them and the crashed van. “They’re shooting wide,” the man said. “They want the three of you alive.”

  Jag ducked again, then a stinging realization hit him: The girls were not with them. He looked around frantically, then peeked past the side of the Mustang in time to see one kidnapper flagging down a car, then pulling a woman out of the dark blue vehicle. The other black-clad men were throwing two smaller bodies into the trunk.

  Jag leapt up and ran toward them. “Tegan! Mariah!”

  He couldn’t get close enough. Two strong arms wrapped around him and carried him back behind the red muscle car. “What are you doing?” Jag screamed.

  The man held Jag down and shouted at Kody and Aari to remain on the ground.

  Jag pulled away and pushed himself up in time to see the blue vehicle speeding off. The woman whose car had been hijacked lay still on the road. Jag hoped she hadn’t been shot.

  Aari and Kody slowly went to stand beside Jag. They watched in subdued shock as the car grew smaller and smaller in the distance, taking with it the girls. Though the abductors’ bullets had completely missed them, two voids grew in the boys’ hearts, bleeding agony.

  Jag, hands still tied behind him, rested against the Mustang. His voice, usually husky and calming, was quiet and broken. “We need to call the cops.”

  “No.”

  The boys slowly turned to glare at the tall stranger. “What do you mean?” Aari seethed. “Our friends have been taken. And you—you’ve been tailing us for days.”

  “I have a good reason,” the man said quietly.

  Kody bristled. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  The man rolled his shoulders back. He raised his right fist over his heart and bowed his head. Then, he lifted his chin and his hazel eyes bore through the trio’s. The boys stared back. That gesture—it felt like a memory inching its way out of the shadows.

  “The reason you cannot go to the authorities,” the man said, “is because it is beyond their power. They are not equipped for the darkness that’s been cast. What was foretold in the prophecy can only be ended by those appointed by the prophecy. The five of you know that.”

  Jag, Aari and Kody nearly collapsed to the ground. “You—you’re a Sentry,” Kody gasped.

  The man said nothing. He pulled out a switchblade from his back pocket and moved to cut the boys free of their bindings. They rubbed their wrists, grateful to be free, but Jag was still antagonistic. “If you’re a Sentry, why didn’t you try to save Tegan and Mariah?” he demanded.

  “There’s no time to explain right now. People must have already alerted the cops after witnessing your crazy stunt in the van.” The man inspected his car and groaned when he took in the bullet holes and one flat tire. “We need to get out of here. I’ll fill you in as we go, you have my word.”

  When he saw the boys hesitating, he sighed impatiently. “I have someone following the girls, someone skilled and capable who will do everything possible to get your friends back. Just, please, we have to leave. Right now.”

  The boys glanced at one another. Jag, tight-lipped, was the first to walk toward the car. He pointed at the busted tire. “You can’t drive on this!”

  “We don’t have a choice. We’re going to go after your friends, but we need to get to a safe spot nearby first to replace the tire.”

  Jag reluctantly got into the passenger seat as Aari and Kody piled into the back from the driver’s side. The man hopped behind the wheel and, as he started the engine, Jag looked over to where he’d last seen his friends being thrown into the trunk of the car.

  We’ll find you, he promised silently.

  PART TWO

  16

  Snowcapped peaks glowed with golden light as the sun began its slow ascent from behind the mountains. Sunrise occurred early during this time of the year in northern Canada, usually around four in the morning.

  The mountains were adorned by a shawl of pine trees that thickened on the slopes toward a valley that lay snugly in between the rocky behemoths. Weaving through the length of the basin, a slim, meandering river divided the valley. To a casual observer in an aircraft flying over the valley, the landscape below would appear remote and uninhabited.

  The valley, however, was home to a village that straddled both sides of the river. The secret sanctuary housed over seven hundred inhabitants, descendants of a hybrid community that had remained hidden from the rest of the world for many centuries. All man-made structures were camouflaged to blend in with the surrounding foliage, and all access routes to the valley were well-protected by five mysterious and powerful creatures known as the Guardians.

  The picturesque village was usually serene. But not today.

  A group of villagers were anxiously moving from one cluster of buildings to another, scouting the barn, stable, storehouse, and the temple while another group searched the greenhouse, community hall, school, and youth center.

  On one of three wooden bridges that linked the north and south sides of the valley, a man in a long black-and-silver cloak—one of the five Elders of the village—was directing the search; he was calm but his tone conveyed urgency. On a good day, it would be difficult to tell that the man was well into his mid-seventies. His blue eyes, an intriguing contrast to his brown skin, would shine brighter than a thousand suns. He was regal yet approachable, a shared trait that ran through the genes of the people of the valley. Lately, though, he’d noticed deep lines carved around his eyes.

  He quickly finished instructing the villagers he was speaking with and watched wearily as they sprinted away before turning to rest his elbows on the railing of the bridge. He stared at his reflection in the river’s beautiful emerald waters.

  His ears, far sharper than any untrained listener’s, picked up the sound of hurried but delicate footsteps approaching well before the person arrived. He knew who it was without having to turn around—after all, he’d lived with and loved that woman for forty years.

  “Tikina,” he murmured.

  “Is it true?” the woman spoke, hushed. She was also an Elder, and was nearly as tall as him. “Hutar is . . . is gone?”

  The man’s shoulders slumped slightly. He heard the woman let out a small breath. “Oh, Nageau . . . ” She leaned against him, resting her head against his.

  “There is no sign of him,” Nageau said grimly. “He would have fled before dawn.” He heard the sound of another se
t of footsteps hurrying in their direction. He looked up and saw a youth of nineteen summers running toward them. He straightened, as did Tikina, as the youth slowed to a halt in front of them.

  “What is it, Akol?” Nageau asked.

  The youth wiped his brow and smoothed down his moose-hide shirt before answering, breathlessly, “Aesròn is gone as well, Grandfather.”

  Though disappointed, Nageau said, “I suppose it would make sense for Hutar to take his only trusted comrade with him.”

  Akol pursed his lips, his hand curling into a tight fist around the staff he held. “They must have been planning this for some time.” He turned away so his grandparents could only see the side of his face. “By no means do I intend to be disrespectful, but . . . Why did you not consider my words, Grandfather?” Nageau could see that the lad was doing all he could to keep his emotions in check. “They were trouble if put together and yet they were allowed to visit one another. Hutar was not going to change, that was clear to see.”

  Nageau looked up at the sky quietly for a while, then slid his hand under Akol’s chin and gently turned the youth’s face toward himself. “You were right, Akol. Your intuition about Hutar is something I should have taken note of. I am sorry.” The Elder slowly lowered his hand. “I had only hoped that the boy would change, that he would be rehabilitated and become as responsible and, above all, as nurturing as his father was.”

  “He is no longer a boy,” Akol said quietly, his dark eyes boring into the Elder’s.

  Nageau tilted his head. “Neither, it seems, are you.”

  Akol flushed involuntarily. “Would you have me lead a patrol outside the valley to search for the escapees?”

  “I would. Thank you, Akol.”

  Dipping his head at the Elders, Akol left them at a brisk pace to gather a few villagers. Nageau returned his attention to his reflection in the river. “I would appreciate it if you could search the forest yourself,” he told Tikina softly. “Create a mind-link with one of the animals. Perhaps the lynx, Tyse.”

  “Of course. She cannot travel as far and as swiftly as Akira, though.”

  “Akira? That old eagle is still around?”

  “Yes. She has just decided to make herself scarce since the siege at Ayen’et.” Tikina rested against the wooden railing and took a proper look at Nageau. “Are you alright, my love? Has news changed regarding the boys and the Sentry?”

  Nageau smiled only slightly. There was never a time when his mate could not see through him. “Nothing has changed. He is telling Jag, Kody and Aari as much as he is permitted even as we speak. The other Sentry is still following the girls. But . . . how did I not see this coming?”

  Tikina looked puzzled. “No one could have, Nageau.”

  “I am still having trouble grasping the fact that they have been abducted.”

  “The other Elders and I feel the same way. The one consolation we have lies in the Sentries. We know they will not let us down.”

  Nageau remained gloomy. Tikina prodded, “There is something else that is bothering you.”

  Nageau turned around, his black-and-silver cloak sweeping, and walked off the bridge toward the south side of the village. Tikina kept pace with him. “I do not expect the five to take kindly to the knowledge that we had suppressed their memories,” Nageau said, “especially considering that the memories concerned are very delicate and an important part of their lives.”

  “They will understand the necessity of our actions, Nageau, I am sure of it. It may take some time, but they will recognize that we did what was needed to protect them. They are too important to be exposed when the time was not yet right.” Tikina lightly squeezed his forearm.

  Nageau glanced at her, meeting her tender and loving green-eyed gaze. “And still they were abducted.”

  “But you know that the Sentries will do all they can to get the girls back,” Tikina reminded him.

  Nageau massaged one of his hands with the other before saying quietly, “I do wonder if . . . ”

  “If?”

  “If this has something to do with . . . the expulsion.”

  Tikina stopped in her tracks and folded her arms. “You are still dwelling on it, Nageau. I have been trying to tell you, the past must remain in the past.”

  “And it seems that the past may have clawed its way into the present. Not a day has gone by that I don’t question my actions all those years ago; question if the decision that was made was the right one. It is difficult, knowing . . . ” Nageau trailed off with a sigh and pulled out a silver coin from inside the folds of his cloak. Engraved into the center of the coin was a symbol that vaguely resembled the letter Z with a short horizontal line crossing midway.

  He stared at the symbol for a few moments, his throat constricting. “It is difficult,” he repeated, “knowing that the prophecy may be unfolding through a decision that was made in this very place.”

  Tikina took the coin from him and slipped it into one of her moccasin boots. “That is not for certain. Besides, what reason or evidence do you have to believe that? That . . . that individual’s presence, have you felt it at any time?”

  “No. I have been trying for the better part of the last two decades but I have been unable to sense it. I did in the beginning, right after the event, but there has been nothing since.”

  “It seems likely, then, that this person is . . . ” Tikina slowed down, choosing her words carefully. “ . . . no longer in existence. From what we know, the five were subjected to all kinds of scrutiny when they returned to their homes. Their abduction could be the work of some devious minds from the world outside.”

  Nageau was unconvinced. “Possible, I suppose.” He turned to gently push back his mate’s chestnut-colored hair. Tikina smiled comfortingly at him. He said nothing more, but he needn’t have. Their relationship was one where words were seldom necessary to express their true and deepest thoughts.

  As they made their way through the trees toward the western end of the valley where the temple was located, Nageau hoped the five would forgive the Elders for their actions and understand why they had to do what they did.

  17

  They’re too young!

  Marshall Sawyer was hurtling down the highway in his Mustang with Jag, Aari and Kody. The bullet-holed tire had been replaced, costing them precious time that they were frantically trying to make up for. They’d now been in pursuit of the girls for a few hours, and the sun had yet to rise over California.

  Having just finished filling the teenagers in on what he was permitted to divulge—with them barely uttering a word but looking more dazed by the minute—Marshall and the boys sat quietly, no one sharing even a whisper.

  The Sentry rubbed his short beard. A group of teenagers were the fulfillment of the ancient prophecy . . . He had difficulty wrapping his mind around that. They were too young to have such a heavy burden placed on their shoulders. How can this be right? They’re just a bunch of kids—lambs among lions. The world will not be kind to them . . .

  Aari spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. “So our memories were wiped clean and we were deprived of the knowledge we had a right to keep?” There was no mistaking the resentment in his tone.

  Marshall turned to look at him. “For one, your memories were not wiped clean. If they were, they would be irretrievable. They were just . . . suppressed.”

  Irritable, Aari responded: “Six of one, half a dozen of the other. Whatever.”

  Marshall pinched his earlobe but kept a neutral expression. He knew the boys were hurting, what with Mariah and Tegan missing, and trying to take in all that he’d disclosed to them.

  “It was a necessary evil,” the Sentry said. “If the Elders had any alternative, I know they wouldn’t have resorted to suppressing your memories. You know that too. They only wanted to keep you protected by ensuring that your knowledge and powers remained undisclosed to the world.”

  Aari looked away but Marshall could tell that he was still crushed. Must be so hard, having the
people you trust take away part of your life, even if it is well-intentioned, he thought.

  “What do we do now?” Jag asked. It was the first time he’d spoken since Marshall picked them up several hours ago. “So we got our memories back and found our powers. Why now? What’s happened?”

  Marshall’s eyes flicked to the speedometer before returning to the road. “That was my doing. That little device I tossed into your car—the vapor that was released helped stimulate your suppressed memories. Other than that . . . Things are at play here, Jag. I’m piecing it all together as I go along. I don’t have all the answers. Right now, I’m hoping that your abductors will be taking your friends straight to their client, whoever that is. I know it’s not ideal at all, but maybe this happened for a reason. Maybe the Sentry following the girls will find out who it is that wants them. Once we know their identity, or at the very least where they’re located, we’ll have a better idea on who we are dealing with and how to move forward.”

  Jag looked out of his window. “So tell us again why we can’t contact the authorities. Because it feels like that would make a lot of sense right now.”

  “I know. And you’d be right, if it weren’t for the prophecy. Your memories have all returned now, so you know more than anyone else how accurate the prophecy is. It foretold your arrival at Dema-Ki and the abilities—powers—that you possess. So there can be no doubt about its validity, right?”

  “I guess, yeah. But . . . by that logic, doesn’t that mean that the prophecy is the cause of everything that’s happening?”

  “Is the prophecy the cause of mankind’s slide into the abyss?”

  “Well . . . No, I guess.”

  “Mankind chose a path of greed, corruption and destruction all on their own. The prophecy merely foretold this. So when the same ancient verses tell us that the gathering storm can only be stopped by the chosen ones of the prophecy, we cannot waver. Think, Jag. Do you really believe the authorities will be able to handle what could come their way? The darkness that is brewing is outside of their understanding. I’m sorry, I know this is not easy to hear but the authorities cannot come into the picture. Not yet, at least.”