by Franc Ingram
Daycia did away with her yeti, then spun around to Oleana, her eyes wide. “Oleana go!” Daycia yelled.
Oleana froze. She knew what the strange weather meant. She knew who was coming. She wanted to run. She couldn’t bear the thought of facing Cornelius, or worse yet, having him go straight for Lorn and Leith. But neither did she want to leave others to fight her battles for her.
“Do what you’re told and go,” Daycia demanded, spit flying from her mouth.
“Please be careful,” Oleana begged as she began to run, jumping over the dead yeti, and pumping her legs as fast as they would carry her back toward the train station.
The fighting took them further away from the station than Oleana had anticipated. When she reached the carriage, she was out of breath, and her arm was drenched with a mixture of blood and sweat. The carriage was empty, even the driver had abandoned it. Since there was no luggage, Oleana assumed the others caught the train.
Oleana pushed off the carriage and went running. Word must have spread that there was danger, because as soon as she opened the double doors to the station nervous eyes turned to stare. She couldn’t tell if her presence made them relieved, or worried. She didn’t care. She was searching for particular faces.
Her feet moved forward, even though all she wanted to do was collapse. The coastal rail train was on the last platform and it crawled with people scurrying to board. Lorn and Leith, with their bodyguards, were huddled near one of the doors, the crowd flowing around them.
Lorn spotted her and shouted. “Mom!” he closed the distance between them. “Are you okay?” he asked, concerned. “You’re bleeding. What happened?” Lorn laid his hand on Oleana’s arm before she pushed him away.
“In the train now. You two,” she said pointing to Daycia’s apprentice and the ranger. “Join the others. Cornelius is in play.”
Their eyes went wide.
“Go!” Oleana shouted. Lorn and Leith grabbed the bags and headed for the train while the ranger led Paley out.
Oleana kept turning back as she followed the boys into the train. If she could force the other passengers to load faster, she would have. Since she was forced to leave the battle, Oleana wanted to be sure it was worth it. That they got away safely.
Lorn found their cabin and stuffed their belongings into whatever space he could find in the narrow closet by the door. Leith took a seat, but looked her over. His jaw worked as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t manage to find the words. Lorn twisted and fidgeted, trying to get a good look out the window.
Oleana stared straight ahead, her body shaking with fear and exhaustion. Her eyes were on Leith and Lorn, but her mind was elsewhere. She was plagued by the memory of Cornelius laughing when he plunged a sword through her kidneys so many years ago. Knowing her friend, her mentor, the only mother she really connected with, might be out on the field, facing the beast that had killed Alwen chilled Oleana to her core.
As the train started up and pulled forward, steam billowed outside. temporarily blocking the view. Lorn groaned, sitting back in his chair, pulling Oleana back into the present. She joined Lorn in his attempt to settle down.
Leaving the station, they got a glimpse of the hill where the others were fighting. Heading the opposite way, it was hard to make out anything clearly, but Oleana saw what she needed. In the center of the melee, taller than any other figure, cold rolling off him in waves, stood Cornelius. Oleana could see where his attention was focused, on a curvy figure with bright red hair.
As the curve of the track pulled them out of sight, Oleana had to bite down on a scream. Her heart thudded in her chest. She wanted so much to go back, protect her friend. She sank back in her chair covering her eyes with her hands. “Please be okay. Please be okay,” she whispered over and over, the tension in her temples squeezing her head. Oleana hoped she wasn’t being too loud. She didn’t want attention. She wanted so much to be alone with her fear.
“Mom,” Lorn whispered, his voice gentle, almost pleading.
“Yes, Lorn,” Oleana said. She kept her voice flat. If she let even a little bit of the torrent raging inside her out, it would overwhelm her, and she would claw her way off the train and back into the fight.
“Let me tend to your arm.”
Oleana inhaled sharply. She blinked back the tears. She remembered where her priorities should be. Taking care of her charges, her kings. She was built to protect them and that had to be enough to keep her going. With anger and determination pushing out the fear and regret Oleana ripped away the rest of her sleeve, exposing the four slash marks marring her upper arm.
Lorn already had the bandages out and a container of water. He set to work washing her wound with tender care. Oleana hated the silence between them. It made her unease all the more oppressive.
“We’ll be safe once we reach Central City. I have some old friends there that should help us out. There are half a dozen stops between here and there, so we have to be extra careful,” Oleana said focusing on what was ahead.
Leith nodded.
“Not sure if Cornelius saw us get on the train or not, but at the next hub we need to switch trains.”
Again, silence hung between them. Oleana didn’t know what else to say. The wound in her arm started to throb, and her tongue felt too heavy to be of use. Lorn’s steady hands made light work of patching her up, which currently was the only solid thing for Oleana to hold onto.
“Glad you’re okay.” Leith said.
100101
Cornelius landed on the frozen grass with a thud. He always loved traveling on the wind. It brought him such a feeling of exhilaration, a sensation of being untethered from gravity and connected with the ethereal. The only other thing that came close to the feeling was a nice battle, but his mood darkened when he looked around and found not only his children dead, but no sign of the guardian or the other Heirs.
“Daycia, you fool, where are they?” he bellowed catching sight of the familiar redhead. She looked so much like her mother it was uncanny, but the soft-hearted ultra was tainted with her human side, and had decided long ago to stand up for the weak. Cornelius made sure his offspring were pure blood to prevent that kind of disloyalty.
Daycia swept her battle-tousled hair back off her face. Sweat beaded along her forehead, despite the cold. Her chest heaved in ragged increments, showing the exertion she had already put forward. “They’re long gone, Cornelius. You won't get to them. If you attack Erald or Solon, you’ll be declaring war on humans and we both know that’s a fight you’re not prepared for. So quit this posturing and return to your cave.”
Cornelius howled, pulling the cold winds around him like a shield. “You’ll not presume to order me, half-breed. I’ll destroy everything and everyone that gets in my way. My connection with your mother will not save you from the same fate. Point me in their direction and I might spare you.”
In response Daycia hurled a dagger at his head. Cornelius dodged it easily, as the winds whipping around him threw its course wide. He was ready to fight. If she continued to be stubborn, he would have to test just how immortal Daycia really was. Someone had to pay for the treatment Tannin received.
Daycia charged first, a ranger at her side. They both wielded swords in a two-handed brute force attack. Cornelius smiled. Such tactics were beyond him. He’d dispatch them quickly and continue his hunt.
Daycia reached him first. Cornelius blocked her jab with his forearm, turning to the side enough to miss the ranger’s blow. Cornelius tried to wrench the blade free of Daycia’s grasp, knowing she was the more dangerous of the two.
Holding on strong, Daycia side-kicked him in the ribs, forcing Cornelius back a step. The ranger moved into the opening, ducking low to get under the hold Cornelius still had on Daycia, and going for Cornelius’ unprotected middle.
Cornelius swung for the ranger, claws out, catching the man across the face, but it was a glancing blow that barely slowed the man down. Cornelius pushed Daycia away and spun to deal with t
he ranger, but the man was fast. He’d gotten around behind Cornelius, slashing at his back.
Cornelius lashed out with the cold winds, pulling it toward him in a great rush, feeling the soothing bite of it against his skin. Then he let loose with all his fury. For a moment, there was a vacuum around him, airless and hot in the wake of all the energy he’d expended. Cornelius’ heart pounded as time slowed to a crawl, and he watched while the others were knocked to the ground.
Air returned, and Cornelius finally had room to breathe. The yetis that followed him out were finally catching up with the fight. Two more humans joined the foray as well. The odds looked more even, but Cornelius still felt glad for his advantage.
He pressed forward before Daycia found her feet, leaving one of the yeti to deal with the ranger. Daycia’s hair had fallen over her face, and blue ice clung to her clothes. Cornelius grabbed her by the shirt collar, knocking the weapon out of her loose hand.
“Tell me where the guardian and her brats are. Last chance to hold on to that long life of yours.” He lifted Daycia off the ground, her legs swinging uselessly.
“You will never get anything out of me,” Daycia snarled. Cornelius believed her. The human blood may have made her heart soft, but her passion was as fiery as her mother’s, the Fire Ultra.
Drawing her knees up, Daycia kicked at his chest with both feet, forcing him to drop her. He pressed after her, raking his claws across her stomach. On the ground, she scrambled backwards, but she couldn’t move fast enough to escape him.
Cornelius laughed. Such a sad sight watching the great hero of Solon crawling away like a wounded dog. Soon he would rip down all those statues of her darted around his city. He realized too late that her crawl wasn't random.
Daycia had a rock in one hand and reached for her fallen sword with the other. He reached for her ankle, pulling her up. Daycia’s hands came together. One spark, and the world exploded.
The daughter of the Fire Ultra engulfed him in flames. Cornelius felt the blaze licking at the fur along his arms as if he were detached from them, as if it were some far off remembered pain that could no longer do him damage. He still held on to Daycia while his brain tried to catch up to the realization that he was dying.
As the fire reached toward his face, Cornelius jumped back in a panic. The searing pain hit him, forcing a ragged scream from his lips. He waved his arms frantically, trying to quell the flame, but it only made things worse.
No! No! No! He couldn’t die like this. Not burnt to ashes by some half-breed not worthy of being in the same league as his yetis. Cornelius turned his gaze skyward. He could feel the clouds above laden with moisture.
He called, and they answered. Thick wet flakes dropped down from the sky in such a thick blanket Cornelius couldn’t see in front of him far enough to see the end of his own nose. He forced himself to stand still as the bitter cold killed the fire and sealed the wounds in his skin.
He heard the wails of something around him, but couldn’t make out if it was human, animal, or other. He sank to his knees, pleased by the crunch of snow that cushioned the impact. Wind whipped up around him, sinking down to the bone. The snow did not let up. Cornelius would empty the sky and bury them all, he thought.
The temperature continued to drop. He could feel the air in his lungs thin out because of it. He’d never pushed it this far. Never stretched his power to its limits like this. He couldn’t stop himself. He still felt as if he was on fire, and he couldn’t stop until he was frozen inside and out.
Something solid careened into him, forcing Cornelius on all fours. It was one of the yeti, missing an arm and running in wild aimless circles. Cornelius grabbed his child. It whirled on him, fangs glistening with a thin layer of ice. Then it recognized its father and settled.
In his grasp, Cornelius noticed the poor creature was shivering, and its wound was frozen over. If he kept going he would kill his own, as well as his enemy.
Cornelius caught a glimpse of his hand, the blood of Daycia coating the tips of his claws. That victory would have to be enough for one day. He whistled high, calling for his yetis to retreat. He mindlessly followed the yetis as it half-dragged him up the hill. Cornelius couldn’t see through the white-out, he could only hope their path was unhindered by pesky men with swords.
CHAPTER TEN: TRAIN
“How we supposed to get cross the border?” Leith asked. He fidgeted in his seat changing positions every few seconds. He kept trying to crack his knuckles but there was nothing left to crack.
Oleana was just as ready to get off the train. They’d been cooped up in the cabin, the three of them, for too long, and Lorn’s boundless energy was overwhelming in the tiny space, forcing everyone else to search for a way out.
Currently the boy was reorganizing his bag, which he’d been forced to pack in a hurry. The project required him to pull everything out first, taking up the little bit of floor space between the two sets of seats. Because all the chairs faced the middle section, there was nowhere else to look but at the mess Lorn made, and the intense focus he dedicated to such a ridiculous task.
Oleana handed Leith the documents Daycia had stuffed into her bag. “Daycia made sure we all had diplomatic papers to ensure we could cross between realms. This is not my first trip down this never-ending path.”
Leith scanned his documents as if they really were something of interest. Oleana couldn’t get a good read on him. She didn’t know what he might have been feeling. Lorn was an open book. A mixture of worry and fear was written across his brow. He tried to hide it by staying busy. Leith on the other hand was shut off, showing no outward signs of anything other than mild irritation.
“If we stayed on this train it would take us four days to get to Central City in Caledon,” Oleana said. “We can’t risk staying in this metal death trap that long since Cornelius knows where we left from,” her voice caught just mentioning him. She flashed back to Daycia standing in front of the monster, risking her life to make sure they got to safety.
Oleana tasted death three times, but nothing scared her like the first one at Cornelius hands. The way he laughed as her life ebbed away through the ragged wound in her abdomen. Cornelius reputation for cruelty only got worse as the years went on. Leaving Daycia behind to face him, rumbled Oleana’s stomach like sour food.
They’d only been on the train for four hours, but it felt like a lifetime ago that Oleana was running away from a fight, as much out of fear as a need to protect her son and Leith. She was desperate to know what happened, to know if she’d lost yet another important part of her life in the pursuit of fulfilling the programming that drove her.
“So we switch trains,” Leith said bringing Oleana back to the conversation. “When and where?”
“This route intersects two other big routes, so we have options.” Oleana’s head swam with so many variables she couldn’t sort them. She rubbed at her temples in frustration. “We can worry about that later. Right now we need….” Oleana searched for an excuse that would get her out of the cabin and away from the others without being obvious. “.... food,” she finished lamely. “There is a dining car on this tin can somewhere. I’ll find it and bring stuff back. You two try not to kill each other while I’m gone.” Oleana jumped to her feet, afraid if she lingered she’d talk herself out of getting out of sight of the others.
“Don’t forget dessert,” Lorn called out after her. He didn’t look up at her, but the stiff way he held his shoulders said enough.
Oleana turned back to him and ran her hands through his mass of sandy-brown curls. Every day they got longer, and since they left their farming home two months ago, she hadn’t had the opportunity to cut them. They were long enough to cover his ears already. The longer hair reminded her so much of the dirty-faced orphan she’d ran into on the streets, begging for scraps. She’d promised then never to let him be that desperate again, and here she was scraping by, tooth and nail, to keep it.
“Dessert. Of course. Whatever you want.”
<
br /> People milled about the train, all wrapped up in their own tasks to really notice Oleana. She appreciated the anonymity. There were whispered conversations about some possible trouble back in Erald, but nobody knew what it could have been. No one seemed to have any answers.
Oleana let her feet carry her forward, following the crowd. She tried hard not to think of Daycia, of Wade, and the others. There was enough to worry about ahead. She didn’t think she’d be back in Central City so soon. Thirty-four years had passed since she was there last.
Like many of her partings, it was a hard one leaving Central City. She made friends there, despite trying her best not to. Going back wouldn’t be easy. She wouldn’t be returning to an immortal like Daycia. Her friends there would be changed by the passage of time. She’d already put one old friend in danger, how could she race to put more in harm’s way? Without help, they were unlikely to elude Cornelius for long, now that he knew who to look for.
Oleana perked up at the smell of quality alcohol in the air before she realized she’d reached the car she’d been heading for. There were carts secured to the floor, with food sitting under large clear lids on one side of the car, and a bar at the other.
She knew she should take her share of food and run back to the cabin. Lorn’s words flitted in her ears like insects telling her to stay away from the bar. Before she could make up her mind, Oleana found herself sitting on the nearest bar stool, a polished wood number with a dark red cushion.
A man stood behind the bar. He looked to be around Oleana’s age. He was tall as Lorn, but more filled out. His bronzed skin said he hailed from parts further south than Solon. He wore a black shirt, and trousers with a blue vest emblazoned with the train company’s logo on the chest.
He smiled at her as he approached. It was a charming smile, bright and wide, but she could tell it was automatic. The gesture held no genuine emotion in it. His brown eyes stayed flat. Oleana responded in kind, going through the usual rituals of such an encounter.
