by R. J. Batla
“The River will change their vote,” said Princess Aurora, as she stood with a deeply concerned face. “As long as you, Royn Crowell, are truly in charge of his training, we will vote life. If this man can truly save us, let us give him the chance.” She sat back down quickly, her people huddling around her instantly.
The Dwarf grinned slightly then wiped it away. I think my whole face was one big smile, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I never knew it would feel so good to be alive! Hands shaking, I turned around and saw Leona was gone – that stunk, but oh well, I guess. She had done more than enough for me already.
“Shouldn’t there be some kind of insurance policy, in case this boy turns to the dark?” one of the Manus said.
Another round of murmurings, and several heads leaned in to talk to the head Dwarf. Nodding, the Dwarf said, “Aye, that is in the bylaws. Who is the candidate for this area?”
“That would be me, sir,” said a man, stepping forward. He wore dark clothes, cowl, and a dark cloak.
“Jayton Baird, meet the Executioner. He’ll be our failsafe and your shadow. If you start to turn, if there is any hint that the Morsenube is taking over your mind, he has the full right and responsibility to stop you, by any means necessary, including death. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” I managed.
“Excellent.” The hammer slammed home for a final time. “Voting complete! But be warned, young Senturian. If you put one toe out of line, the punishment will be swift and severe. Do you understand?”
I gulped. “Yes, sir.”
“Then, according to our laws, I declare that the boy lives!” shouted the Dwarf. There were some clapping and some annoyed murmurs, but I didn’t care either way – I was not to be killed, that was what mattered. Always a good day in my book.
Turning back around, I was face to face with Royn Crowell and Ames Talco, each with a smile on their face. I straightened up, stuck my hand out, and said, “Thank you both very much. I won’t let you down. My name is Jayton Baird.”
“We know. Ames Talco,” he said. “We’ve been waiting for a Senturian with the Fire Eyes for a long time – glad to finally meet you.”
He released my hand and I turned to shake Royn’s.
“Royn Crowell. I’m the one who’s been talking in your head.” Well that makes more sense. “I agree: it has been a long time coming. Because you never received your official welcome into the Ranger Corps, and I will be responsible for training you, raise your right hand.”
I obliged.
“Put your left on this badge, then state your full name.”
“Jayton Baird.” Under my hand, the badge got hot, but I didn’t move.
“Jayton Baird, do you swear to protect the innocent, uphold the laws of Terraunum, and resist the forces of evil with all your might?”
“I do.”
“Then by the power vested in me, you are now a member of the Ranger Corps. Your badge, sir,” he said, handing me a silver badge with a maroon stone in its center, my name above and number, 282-475-249, written below.
I grinned despite myself, and looked up at Royn.
He grinned devilishly. “You want to know what’s next?”
Chapter 6
Somewhere on the east edge of the South Sea, a goblin left his post between the Listening Stones and rushed to the center of the camp. He had heard! He had heard the voice of Malstrak! And he had a message for his commander of the invasion fleet being assembled. The goblin crashed over his fellows, fires, and weapons as he excitedly ran to the tent in the center of the encampment.
The tent was huge, the size of a small house, dark brown, decorated with bones and skulls. Two guard trolls stopped the goblin as he neared the entrance, spears crossed to block his path.
“What do you want?” they grunted from beneath their helmets, large muscles flexing under stone-colored skin.
“I have a message from Malstrak!” he said, in his higher-pitched, somewhat wailing voice. The name brought fear to the eyes of the trolls, and they swiftly stepped aside. The goblin looked snobbishly at them. Stupid trolls – they wouldn’t even be here if they weren’t so strong. They were as dim-witted as a rock; not at all cleaver as the goblins were, which was why goblins would lead the attack, and the trolls would do the grunt work. As it should be.
He walked into the tent, lit at this end by torchlight but dark at the opposite, and bowed deeply. “Commander, I have a message from Malstrak!”
A shadow detached itself from the wall of the tent and made its way toward him. The goblin shivered now. In his rush to deliver the message, he forgot how much he dreaded being in the presence of the commander, who enticed fear in anyone he encountered, no matter what sort of creature they were. A skeletal figure emerged into the light, all skin and bones, a ragged, black cape wrapped around its shoulders, frayed at the edges. The commander was a Skeptor, a dark creature born deep in the Shadow Mountains west of the Breaks. His head was the skull of some fleshless dog, and there were teeth, so many teeth they overflowed the mouth. His chest and legs were covered in some sort of bone, giving him the appearance of a walking skeleton. Although the commander appeared frail, he was as strong as the trolls who guarded his tent. The arms were just bones as well, thick and ending in two large, clawed hands. His voice was a hiss as he spoke, “What do you have for me?”
The goblin trembled, lowered his eyes and gulped. “Lord Malstrak says to prepare to leave on a moment’s notice. There has been a change, he says, something he sensed that will give us an advantage. He’s close to achieving his goal. He said…” The goblin paused from fear of what he was about to say. “He says not to fail him, or you’ll wish the Elves killed you, because death could not compare to the amount of pain he would inflict upon you.” The goblin instinctively shied away, cowering and throwing his hands in front of his face.
But the punishment never came – instead the Skeptor took a deep, rattling, clicking breath. “Is that all?”
The goblin nodded.
The Skeptor breathed heavily again. “Inform the troops. Construction to double at once. Everything must be ready. Anyone who falls behind will be killed. There must be no mistakes. Tell them if they fail this time, it is not only me they will have to answer to, but Malstrak himself. Go.” He pointed a bony hand toward the tent’s exit.
The goblin hurried away and did his master’s bidding.
***
Deep in the Shadow Mountains, Malstrak arose from his meditation, black cloak draped around him that billowed behind as he strode from the chamber. It had finally happened – a Senturian with huge potential had been Awakened. The Morsenube could again be used, could be…
But that was a ways down the road. Preparations must be made. Plans had to change with this development; this would be so much easier. Terraunum was his for the taking. It was his destiny, his birthright, to rule over the weaklings on the East Side of the Breaks. Those fools who dared to cast him out.
He shook his head like an old dog, grinning slyly under his cowl. No matter, that was the past, and he had become much stronger than their feeble minds could comprehend. Yes, this new Senturian must be turned, must be used, or even better – exploited. He shouted to one of his goblin attendants to bring him food and a telestone – he needed to make a few calls.
The goblin obliged, trembling slightly as he brought the tray, its smell almost overshadowing the delicacies piled onto it. Almost. Malstrak flicked his hand. “Away with you.” The creature scurried away.
Malstrak first called his operative at Harlingon. The line rang once before it was picked up. “Your men are in place?” he asked.
“Yes, sir! They know their orders and will do their job,” came the reply. “Though this will be easier now; all will be in one place within a month.”
Juice from a tomato squirted as Malstrak bit into it. “I’m sure those arrogant Oracles think they know of my plan. That they have foreseen. This is a turn of luck in our favor. Can you keep the Int
s occupied until the time to strike? They know their targets? And their locations day of?”
“They will be kept busy. Currently they are feeding off the vents in the caves. We will know the targets’ location shortly. Our man on the inside will be here any second, my lord,” the voice said. Malstrak felt the bow through the connection. Telestones were a marvelous invention – Senturians almost felt like they were in the same room with each other when using one.
“Excellent. Then proceed as planned. I want mayhem. Paint the walls with blood. They’re to kill anything or anyone that gets in their way. I want to hear their screams, feel their fear. I want them to hurt. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well. Leave no traceable ends. You won’t have to tell me if you’re successful – I’ll hear the news, even from here. Execute the plan.”
“Yes, my lord.” They both hung up.
Satisfied, Malstrak ate the meat off a rib bone then tossed it aside. Beasts emerged from the shadows, fighting and clawing over the scraps. Ghastly creatures, but they were entertaining in their ferocity. He picked up the telestone again, and when it was answered he snarled, “Report.”
“My Lord, the one with the Morsenube Powers will be trained by the Rangers,” the ghoul said, even its voice oozing poison.
Malstrak stroked his beard. “Then start the recruiting process as soon as possible. If he’ll join us, all the better. Use your skills of persuasion to, ah…enlighten him on the possibilities. But do not harm him – he’s now a vital piece of the plan.” The telestone shivered. “Another matter requires my attention. Our other informants are in place?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Then carry on,” he said, switching the lines over. “Report.”
“My lord,” came a gravelly voice, “the tournament is progressing nicely, and everything is falling into place as you have said.”
“Excellent,” Malstrak said, “but we need to adjust the plan slightly. I’m sending you a new prize to use – the other will not work for my purposes. Also, allow them one entry.”
“My lord?”
He was on his feet before he blinked. “Did you not understand me, swine?” Squawks and gags came from the other end of the line before Malstrak released him. “What were you saying?”
“N-n-nothing, my lord, it will be as you wish.”
“Very well. Our fighters know their roles?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And our champion?”
“Ready to crush everything in his path.”
“Make it so,” he said, and he hung up.
One more call and he was done. Several different assets were gathered at the Bowl, and they all needed to have their tasks completed. Particularly the spy tasked with persuading the Lords of the West Side. They needed to think they were important, yet know Malstrak was master. Their support was crucial for the overall plan to succeed. Royalty. Slime worse than the creatures he commanded.
He picked up the telestone. “Gentleman, I want to make myself clear: he must be entered. Phase One and Two are already underway, with Phase Three and Four about to start, correct?”
Many “yes, sirs" came from the line, some in the language of the various creatures, and some were merely grunts of acknowledgment.
“And all the lords are still in agreement?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Excellent. Tell them I plan to meet with them shortly. Now, proceed as planned, and good hunting.”
Satisfied, Malstrak left the half-eaten food and strode to the balcony. A maelstrom of activity littered the base of the cliff. Thousands of creatures and men scrambled to prepare for war – siege machines being built, troops being trained, and creatures being outfitted to make them even more deadly. Here and there fights broke out between the different groups, flurries of activity and magic being thrown in a moment of violence.
Good. Let them brawl, hone their skills, hunger for blood.
He took a deep breath and stretched his fingers on the rail. Everything was progressing perfectly. The fools on the East Side thought they knew his plan. A smirk lit his face. They didn’t know the half of it.
Chapter 7
Royn escorted me back through the tunnels to the train station. An official-looking dude said to Royn, “We held the train for you as requested, Commander Crowell. Your car is the last one. Have a good day.”
Royn nodded and led the way to the back of the train. After about the second passenger car, I quit looking at them: each group stared at us as we walked by, whispered conversations starting up after we passed. Of course they’d already heard – couldn’t keep anything like almost-dying or my-power-might-kill-you-all a secret. Finally reaching the car, I opened the door and we plopped down in some leather seats across a table from each other.
“All right, kid,” he said, “I know that happened really fast, so I’ll explain as best I can, but then I’ve got to be off. I’ve got a lot to prepare for. So here is the deal: you and all the other Ranger recruits are the only ones on this train, plus a few fully trained Rangers for security. You’re all on your way to Harlingon, headquarters for the Rangers. From there, you’ll be told your training schedule, and will be assigned to a squad and an instructor. For you, that will be me. In the Rangers, your squad is your family. Once assigned, they are final and can’t be changed barring general-level approval. Then your training begins. Any questions?” He looked at me like he’d just explained quantum physics to a four year old. Which wasn’t a terrible comparison, but still.
“Yes, sir, Commander Crowell. What did Councilman Talco mean by invasion? When will it happen? How am I supposed to be the key to it? What does the Morsenube do? How will I –”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down, kid,” Royn said, putting his hands up in surrender. “One at a time! And just call me Royn. First, he means what he said: Malstrak, once known as Azle Goree, is going to try to invade and take over the East Side of the Breaks. He’s been banished for a long time, and he’s hated the East for even longer, but he hasn’t been able to get past the Wall. We think he’s mustering a large army to try to bust through, but that’s all speculation at this point. We don’t know when it’s coming, so we have to be prepared.”
“I knew Malstrak was bad, but –”
“Bad?” Royn said, taken aback. “He’s more than bad. The Morsenube twisted his mind even more than it was. He has a constant thirst for power and will stop at nothing to get it. He’s murdered entire villages for no reason. He has killed every Senturian ever sent after him. He scarred the Wall, for crying out loud. No one has ever been able to stop him short of an entire battalion, and even that was iffy. And that was before he amassed such a large force.”
I gulped.
“As far as being the key? You are, as of right now, one of the most powerful Senturians that has ever been Awakened – how could you not play a part in it?” His badge made a funny chirping noise; he glanced down briefly, then back at me. “I’ve got to go. Try not to leave the cabin too much – everyone saw what happened at the Awakening, and you don’t need trouble if you can avoid it. Keep your head down. I’ll see you at the assignment ceremony. Good luck, Jayton,” he said, extending his hand. After I shook it, he stepped out into the hall.
His head popped back in. “And, uh, Jayton?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Try not to kill anyone,” he said, nodding, then turned back to the hall. I saw a flash of blue light, heard a loud bang, and then he was gone. Poof. Must have been his Quantum power – some kind of teleportation.
Keep my head down? Sounded easy enough. How much trouble could you get in while on a train?
Despite my desire to explore, I sat in the car for an hour. Then drummed my fingers on the table for ten minutes. Then taped my foot for five. Sighing heavily, I said screw it and started walking around. People stared the instant I walked by their window, but I didn’t care. One kid was making faces at me, and I was about to make one back when someone slammed into m
e.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t see…Gilmer!”
Gilmer picked himself up off the floor, grabbed me by both shoulders and shook me. “Jay! Jay! Jay, oh my God, I didn’t know where you were, or what happened, and no one would tell me anything! Then people were saying that you had probably been executed, and then I still couldn’t find you, and I thought you were dead! But then I talked to one of the train officials and he said you had got on the train, so I came to find you. What the hell happened? Where were you?”
Heads were popping out of car doors from all the noise, so I shook my head and whispered, “Not here.” I motioned to Gilmer and he followed me back to my cabin. Once the doors closed, I filled him in on what had taken place since he was Awakened. He actually let me finish before–
“Holy crap, Jay! Ignis Oculus, Morsenube, invasion? You’ve got to be kidding me. Plus you met Ames Talco and Royn Crowell? Oh man, I can’t believe it. Fire Eyes and Morsenube. You’re the luckiest hard-luck case I’ve ever met. But, hey, at least you’re alive!” Gilmer slapped me on the back. Then he got a particular grin. “So you met a girl? Leona, you said?”
I may or may not have blushed while nodding. “She was very pretty.”
He didn’t buy it. “Oh, come on, man, seriously? Details!”
I told him, even the part about her being prettier than the River Princess. He was skeptical, but gave in as the food cart arrived. We picked out too much food – free if you can believe it, which was nice, seeing as I didn’t have any money and what not – and then settled in for the long ride. The leather seats were pretty comfortable, and we discovered a ton of reading material behind the cushions.
A pamphlet right in front described our journey: “The train from Bayou Vista to Harlingon for new Ranger recruits will take approximately twelve days, depending on weather and track conditions. Recruits will pass through Phoenix land, adjacent to the Reka land, and under the Divide Mountains through the Train Tunnel –”
How creative – let’s name the tunnel for the train the Train Tunnel.
