Ethon (The Other Worlds Series Book 2)

by M. L. Greye

  One particular rope appeared to contain a clear liquid, beginning from a transparent, hanging bag and ending, to Dagon’s surprise, in his own arm. The blue rope disappeared into a gray vice over his middle finger. If he had had another arm, he would have ripped himself free immediately.

  Hushed voices from the other side of the curtains grew closer. Dagon was able to make out a woman’s tones. She was speaking in Saerdian. “Lay him on the bed. I will send someone to take his blood sample and implant a Bead.”

  “Yes, m’lady,” a scratchy man’s voice replied.

  “Remember, he is not to be touched unless given orders by the king,” the woman warned. “Understood?”

  “Yes, m’lady.”

  “Good. I shall return later this evening.”

  As the woman’s footsteps faded, Dagon noticed movement across from him. The curtains hid the details, but he was able to discern two large figures with what he assumed was a body draped between them. The figures carried the body to the left of Dagon, where they lowered it and straightened empty-handed.

  “Now what?” A new man asked.

  “You heard the boss,” the first man answered. “We leave the kid here. He’s her problem now.”

  Dagon struggled to place the men’s accents. They were obviously Saerdian, but he was unsure of which world they hailed from. Saerdian was not his specialty. He only knew the dialects of Eveon. Deciphering Saerdian was work for the Kendren brothers. Flortt, the middle brother, needed to hear only a few syllables to determine a person’s native world.

  “What about this one?”

  “Shh,” the first man hissed. “Not so loud. We’re not to go near him.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s a special guest of the king’s.”

  Dagon realized with a start that the men were referring to him. This king they spoke of must be Talik, the Velvitor. Dagon grimaced. If he was Talik’s “special guest,” then he was Talik’s prisoner. One look at himself – his arm and hand fused with cords – told him that this was true. Even without the ropes as his leash though, Dagon would not have been able to leave his bed. He was physically drained. Never had he been so weak, not even when Talik’s elixir of long life had left him bedridden for days.

  Releasing a sigh, Dagon closed his eyes. Once Talik discovered he was again coherent, the Velvitor would undoubtedly pay him a visit. Dagon would need his strength. Breathing in and out slowly, Dagon permitted himself to slip back into sleep.

  : : : : :

  Tiara was on the couch with Archrin’s head resting on her lap. A home improvement show was on the television, but she had it muted and wasn’t paying much attention to it. Her mind was elsewhere as she scratched the back of Archrin’s head while he slept. She was still thinking about her attempts with Olinia in Globing. What was she doing wrong?

  “Tracking a Craele was far more challenging than I had anticipated.” Sazx moved around the couch to settle in the stuffed chair beside it.

  “I honestly wouldn’t know,” she replied. “But I’ll take your word for it.”

  Sazx offered her a tight smile before allowing silence to fall between them. Tiara went back to staring blankly at the TV. Silence didn’t bother her.

  A few minutes later though Sazx spoke up again. “I am told that two of the Kendren brothers were killed by Archrin’s hand. Is that correct?”

  She let out a short laugh. “Well, by his hand in the literal sense isn’t entirely accurate. Archrin in Craele form killed Pavn, saving me. As a man, he slew Flortt.”

  “I see.”

  “Was it Olinia who told you?”

  He nodded. “It was.”

  “She told me that you knew the brothers.” Tiara paused. “Do you resent that they’re dead?”

  Sazx regarded her quietly for a moment. Then, “The brothers mattered very little to me. They were brilliant in their stratagem of warfare, which made them valued allies to the Vrenyx. But no, I do not grieve their passing.”

  Tiara ran her tongue along the back of her teeth. “You are a very interesting man, Sazx. I can’t quite figure you out.”

  “Perhaps I can aid you toward a better understanding of my character,” he mused.

  “If that’s an invitation then I have one question.” She frowned. “What drew you to turn against Dagon and his followers? You were Captain of the Nagreth. That couldn’t have been easy to walk away from.”

  Once again Sazx watched her, hesitating before providing his answer. Tiara waited patiently, continuing to stroke Archrin’s head, but didn’t remove her gaze from Sazx. Finally, Sazx said, “I believe my situation is comparable to your own.”

  Tiara gawked as it suddenly dawned on her what he was saying. “You love Olinia,” she exclaimed.

  The corners of his mouth turned up in a sad smile. “How could I remain a Nagreth and fight against her?”

  “But do you really love her enough to watch her love another?”

  “What choice do I have?” Sazx asked. “I am not High Royalty.”

  “Neither is Will, though.”

  Sazx shook his head. “You have a Saerd’s point of view. Will is the Key’s heir. A Balnorrean hero is as good as High Royalty in our realm.”

  Tiara pulled a face. She was beginning to pity the former Nagreth. “I’m sorry, Sazx.”

  He again offered her a sad smile. “There is nothing to be sorry for. My fate simply does not include the princess.”

  Suddenly, Archrin leapt to his feet and snarled, causing Tiara to jump. “What’s wrong?”

  “We’re surrounded,” he hissed.

  “We’re what?” She blurted.

  All at once Tiara felt as if she were in one of the movies Olinia had shown her. At least a dozen figures dressed all in black with dark helmets shielding their faces from view, burst into the TV room from the back door, windows, and other parts of the house. Glass shattered onto the floor as the intruders shouted for the Other Worlders to not move.

  Tiara sat frozen in place, gaping. They were obviously men – too large to be women. Each man held a sizable Ethon weapon in his arms. She recognized the weapons to be guns. She grimaced. Guns were foreign to her – contraptions that could cause harm almost too easily, requiring very little skill at close range. The men around her were most definitely in close range.

  “Put your hands behind your head!” A heavy-set man barked. He was the obvious leader, placing himself slightly in front of the rest of the group.

  Sazx and Archrin ignored the command. Instead, they lurched into motion. Through a few well-placed blows of their fists, they were able to disarm a couple of the men, stealing the guns for themselves. The unlucky men lay in a heap on the floor. In response to their actions though, the group drew closer, yelling for them to drop their newfound weapons.

  Fighting would be no use. Tiara could see no happy outcome to this scenario. Even if Sazx and Archrin were able to figure out how to use the guns, they were still in the open with no place to take cover. The Other Worlders sadly didn’t have much of a chance. At the moment, Tiara saw only one option to live, and that was to surrender.

  She stood and said in Arthelian, “We can’t fight them. They outnumber us. We’ll die.”

  Archrin and Sazx exchanged glances. As soldiers they knew the likelihood of their escape. Tiara pulled a face. “I vote we go with them.”

  “Stop that!” The leader shouted in Saerdian. He motioned for some of the other men to move forward. “Grab their guns and take them outside. She sounds like she’s trying to choke herself.”

  Tiara couldn’t help but smile at that comment. It was a perfect description of the Kendren tongue that she despised so immensely.

  As the intruders obeyed the orders, Sazx and Archrin released their stolen weapons. The three Other Worlders were then handcuffed behind their backs and marched out to the front of the house, where a large, white van sat waiting for them in the driveway. Tiara noted that there were no windows in the back of the van – only two windows on
either side of the front seats and a windshield. Passing cars would have no idea that the prisoners were inside. The van was the Ethon equivalent to the Kendren box carriage Tiara had once found herself inside after the battle of Tamorre Forest.

  “I tried to ask you nicely,” a young man remarked as he and a blonde haired woman stepped around one side of the van into Tiara’s view. “You just had to be stubborn.”

  “Do I know you?” Tiara thought out loud. He was clearly talking to her. Also, the lack of enthusiasm behind his snide comments, made her question his sincerity.

  “Funny,” he smirked.

  The man was tall with dark hair and honey eyes. He didn’t look familiar at all. The woman, on the other hand, did. She wore a white and blue striped blouse, tucked into a tight, knee-length black skirt, with a pair of four-inch blue stilettos on her feet to match. Her long hair hung loose, falling in soft ringlets. It was her eyes though that caught Tiara’s attention. They were a sea green.

  “Aeorin?”

  “Hello,” she sneered. “Surprised?”

  Tiara gawked. “How did you get here?”

  Aeorin ignored her question. She turned to the men escorting the Other Worlders to the van. “Toss them inside.” Then, to Tiara she said, “Do not fret, Olinia. We will see each other again soon. My king wishes to meet you.”

  Before Tiara had the chance to correct Aeorin’s blunder of mistaking her for the Wend, she was shoved into the back of the van. Archrin and Sazx followed closely behind her. The doors were then slammed shut, casting the three into semi-darkness.

  : : : : :

  The city library was an old colonial building, recycled for present-day use. It was structured from red brick with crisp, white trim and pillars. The three-story – basement included – construct was basically a square, except for the front where six pillars jutted out. At the top of the pillars, crown molding melted into a triangular gable. At the bottom, ten or so cement steps flowed downward toward the street. Just past the pillars stood two dark blue doors, signifying the entrance.

  This was the proposed meeting place of Hillary. After offering her help, she’d told them to see her there in twenty minutes. Olinia and Will had left immediately, realizing that Harney didn’t have much else to offer. From her thoughts, Olinia had learned she’d just met Aeorin that day. She had no idea that Aeorin was an Other Worlder. Will might have been a little more shaken to find Aeorin in Ethon, if Porter hadn’t revealed earlier to Olinia that there were gifted humans in his world.

  A few months ago, before he discovered the Other Worlds, he would have laughed at such a claim. But he’d since learned anything was possible. With the way his life had been going, the notion of gifted Ethons actually seemed like a logical development and the arrival of Aeorin wasn’t all that strange after all.

  As Will made his way to the library doors beside Olinia, he noticed two chimney stacks poking out from opposite ends of the gray roof. He wondered if this was once someone’s home, or simply an early government building. Whatever it had been, Will liked the way it reminded the modern world of its unique history.

  Inside, the thick aroma of books, both ancient and new, filled his nostrils. To the right of the large entryway, a reference desk had been built. Several elderly lady librarians sat behind it. One was aiding a young mother of three at a self-checkout machine. Two of the children squirmed beside their mother, eyes wandering, while she juggled a toddler and her books.

  Will smiled at them as he and Olinia passed into a room full of literary works on shelves of dark mahogany. Olinia led the way to the back of the library, pausing briefly at an archway to glance up at Will before continuing into a stairwell. Will followed her down the carpeted steps, into the basement.

  Olinia escorted Will to the opposite end of the basement where there was a small sitting area, hidden by shelves of books on farming, and sank into a stuffed chair, feeling the beginnings of a headache. She’d never personally visited this part of the library before, but had seen it in Hillary’s mind. It really was a nice, quiet place to not be disturbed. Not too many people were interested in farming books. Olinia understood why Hillary had picked this spot to rendezvous.

  “This is it?” Will sat in the chair beside Olinia, dropping his hands onto the armrest.

  She nodded. “Now we wait.”

  You’re smarter than I thought.

  I want to ride in a wagon!

  What time is it?

  A book club would make a nice hobby.

  Olinia groaned, shutting her eyes as she tried to lock out the minds that enveloped her. For some reason, the quieter the place the louder people thought. There were too many people thinking rather than talking. Speech was easier to dismiss as white noise than internal monologues.

  “You alright?”

  Will’s voice brought her eyes open. He was watching her with a concerned look on his face. She winced. “Sorry, I’m struggling to ignore everyone.”

  “Are you hearing everyone in the building?” He raised an eyebrow. “What’s it like?”

  “It’s awful,” she replied. “I know things about complete strangers that no one should.”

  “Like what?”

  Olinia sighed and began describing the conversations as they came to her. “A kid’s reading Curious George and I think something about a wagon. Two high-schoolers are making-out, blissfully assuming their parents will never find out that they’re dating. The old librarians are chatting about some book club they want to start for local singles, and a couple of college students are studying on the main level for a history test.”

  “Is that all?” Will chuckled.

  “I guess the library isn’t very busy today.” She grunted.

  “Your gift has grown stronger.”

  She let out a short laugh. “I used to work to get inside of people’s heads. Now, I work to get out of them.”

  “Does it frustrate you?”

  “Most of the time,” Olinia admitted. “But it’s not all bad. I’ve learned most of my knowledge on Ethon culture from listening to people’s thoughts. And I never seem to need a GPS. There’s always some guy around with a map of the area in his head.”

  Last chance to run. Hillary warned herself as her inner voice joined the others swarming in Olinia’s head. She was nervous to join them downstairs.

  Olinia glanced at Will. “She’s here.”

  He straightened slightly in his seat. “Is she on her way down to us?”

  “Yeah, she is.”

  A couple minutes later, Hillary appeared from behind one of the shelves. When she was close enough for them to hear her without having to raise her voice, she said, “I think you should know that you’re all over the web right now.”

  Olinia winced. “What?”

  Hillary lowered into a chair opposite of Olinia and Will. Her eyes briefly scanned the cherry coffee table that separated her from them. “Some guy managed to record the ground rolling beneath his feet on his phone at the university. Even though you weren’t in the video, eye witnesses described a thin brunette as the culprit.”

  “That’s not too bad. There are a lot of thin brunettes around here.” Olinia relaxed slightly into her chair. “What are they saying about it?”

  “That it was either some insane large-scale prank or it was a domestic terrorist attack,” she answered. “But no one seems to know who you are or where to find you, so I don’t really think you have anything to worry about.”

  “Fantastic.” Olinia grunted. Web traffic covering her recent display though wasn’t really the sort of news Olinia wanted to hear at the moment.

  “Why does DS want Legann and Olinia so badly?” Will changed the subject, asking the same question Olinia was wondering herself.

  An image of Legann walking in a school hallway at a distance suddenly flashed across Hillary’s mind, causing Olinia to stare. Hillary secretly admired her little brother.

  “I’m not sure,” Hillary thought and spoke simultaneously. “DS doesn’t usual
ly kidnap its new additions. But then again, people generally just accept the invitation. I don’t know of anyone who’s refused a Seeker until now.”

  “A Seeker?” Will repeated.

  “Yeah, you met one earlier.” The name Porter Mires went through her head. “A Seeker is the term for basically a DS recruiter.”

  “I wasn’t under the impression that DS even knew who I was until today.” Olinia’s head was pounding and the adrenaline from yelling at Harney had completely worn off. “Why is it such a big deal to refuse their invite?”

  “DS thrives off of new recruits,” Hillary replied. “They want to grab as many of the gifted as possible, so they send out Seekers and loads of commercials to find those that are still young enough to be taught to control their gifts.”

  Olinia frowned. “So, DS assumes everyone wants to join their little school?”

  “Most are happy to join, until they’re stuck.”

  Will raised an eyebrow. “Stuck?”

  Hillary’s eyes darted between Olinia and Will. “I told you before that I was the only one who could help you, remember?”

  “Yes,” Olinia said slowly.

  “That’s because DS controls its students. DS doesn’t allow them to use or even think about their gifts unless a teacher is around. It’s a way to keep students from being discovered by parents, friends, or strangers,” Hillary explained. “DS calls it a safety precaution for the lives of its students, saying that if they were ever discovered the government would do all sorts of tests on them and the whole world would change. But really it’s just to raise up a generation of trained gifted individuals, the like of which the world has never seen.”

  Her face reddened slightly before she went on. “You mentioned your brother yelling at me. That little stunt was something DS had us do. It’s to show that as DS students, we’re special and above the Normals. Serena can take on the appearance of others. She uses her gift usually after a normal student moves away, so there’d be no mix-up with the actual student running into her. None of us really want to humiliate the Normals on purpose. It’d be like harming little kids. They can’t fight back.”