by M. L. Greye
Once again, his response was a kiss.
18
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The Vrenyx’s first impression on Legann had been better than its second. From where he stood, the world looked like it had collapsed into shambles. Olinia did a pretty thorough job at destroying the place almost two years ago. Well, two years ago for him. He wasn’t really sure how long it had been for the Vrenyx.
Legann sighed and sat down on a nearby boulder. Rubble lay scattered around him in heaps ranging in size. The largest collection of stone was behind him in what had once been Dagon’s castle. A little ways off in front of him were the charred remains of Delvich Forest. Beyond that was a much bigger forest that appeared to be untouched by Olinia’s damage. The ruins should have given Legann the sense of absolute devastation, but all he felt was shame for helping his uncle escape an Ethon lab. He still had yet to figure out why Dagon had even been in Ethon.
“Which Eve sacrificed his gifts to bring down my castle?” Dagon asked in Eveon. It was the first time he’d spoken to Legann since leaving Ethon.
“Eve?” Legann repeated in Eveon, raising his head. How did his uncle know gifts were sacrificed to destroy it?
“Answer the question,” Dagon snapped. “Your people obviously did their research. I built my kingdom so that it could only be destroyed in the same manner as it was before.”
Legann wanted to point out that his people were also once his uncle’s people, but decided it best to keep his mouth shut on that topic. “I wasn’t aware that the Vrenyx had been demolished before.”
Dagon glared at him. “I was speaking of Balinorre.”
Again, Legann thought it a good idea to not bring up Dagon’s mistake. Balinorre had never belonged to his uncle. However, he had had no idea that the only way to destroy the Vrenyx was to use the method Tyra had employed for Balinorre. Olinia had told him all about her trip there with Will and not once did she mention this particular detail.
He frowned. “It wasn’t an Eve who did this to your castle.”
“Who was it then?”
“Olinia did it,” Legann replied.
Mild surprise took over his uncle’s face. “So, your sister is now giftless?”
He let out a short laugh. “No, far from it. She only gave up a few of her gifts.”
“How very brave of her,” Dagon said dryly.
Legann turned away from his uncle. He contemplated hitting his head against the rock he was sitting on. How could he have been so stupid as to let himself get caught, first by the fake social worker, and second by Dagon? Legann was a Wend! One would think that that meant he was capable of taking care of himself. Apparently not.
There had to be a way out of this. Dagon still had the Sinith. Legann could get it from him. If he dove at his uncle now, he doubted Dagon would be able to put up much of a fight. Dagon was obviously too weak. His face was almost as pale as snow. If Legann went for Dagon’s knees first, he was sure to bring down his uncle fast. Dagon wasn’t armed.
Approaching horse hooves halted Legann’s scheming. He twisted on his boulder. The noise was coming from around the corner where the castle had been. Dagon didn’t even bother to look – his gaze was locked on his burnt forest prison.
Five shabbily dressed men on horses that shouldn’t have been so skinny rode into view. One look at their faces, and Legann’s hope to steal the Sinith evaporated. The men were gray-skinned, steel-eyed, and dark-haired. Nagreth.
At the sight of Legann and Dagon, the closest Nagreth to them called out in Eveon, “You there! Are you wishing for a death order?”
“Death order?” Legann blinked. He secretly couldn’t help but feel a little twinge of joy at hearing Eveon from so many more people that day than just Olinia. Being threatened with death at the moment seemed more like a joke than a reality. It was even still a little hard to believe that he was no longer in Ethon.
“These lands are forbidden,” the same Nagreth retorted. “I am to kill anyone I find here.”
“And who gave you such a command?” Dagon asked, turning.
“Emperor Dagon!” The Nagreth exclaimed. “You’re alive!”
All five Nagreth jumped to the ground, kneeling before their sovereign. Dagon watched them with a frown on his face. “Yes, I am. From whom did you receive your orders?”
“Second Lorban, my lord,” he answered. “Caprith was taken by the Eves. We fear Captain Sazx and Third Kor are dead.”
Dagon grunted. “Sazx has betrayed me. He is no longer my Captain.”
Legann struggled to hide his smile. He felt a little proud of Sazx for deserting, even though the former Nagreth had disgusted him by kissing his sister.
The lead Nagreth, along with his followers, was staring at the ground. “Sire,” he said, “may we escort you to Second Lorban? He would be glad to see you and describe the state of our world.”
“Captain Lorban can wait,” Dagon replied, revealing the Second’s promotion. “What is your name?”
“Mebon Avvec.”
Dagon nodded once. “Rise, Third Mebon, and relay the state of our world to me.”
The new Third practically leaped to his feet. “Yes, milord.”
Legann listened as Mebon told Dagon that since the destruction of his castle, the Vrenyx had fallen into disarray. The lords of the Vrenyx had split into groups of allies, fighting each other for land and supremacy. The Nagreth, excluding those that followed Lorban, had separated among the people, joining sides with their kin. To Legann, it sounded like without Dagon, the Vrenyx was a complete mess of power-hungry lesser royals.
When Mebon finished, Legann saw that Dagon was frowning again. “Thank you, Third.” He paused, then, “Once you have brought me to Captain Lorban, you are to send for the lords to meet with me. They need to understand that their emperor is not dead.”
“Yes, my liege.” Mebon glanced at Legann. “Will your companion be joining us?”
Again, Legann felt the shame of his actions. Dagon shook his head. “No. Do you have a place where the boy may be contained?”
Mebon nodded. “Of course.”
“Good. This is the Lantz Legann Reien, my nephew.” His uncle waved a hand in his direction.
“We will take care of him, milord.”
Legann wasn’t particularly fond of the idea that he was to be under the care of Nagreth, but for the time it was his best option. Even though he could steal one of the Nagreth’s swords, he would be outnumbered six to one. It had been a while since he’d last wielded the weapon anyway, and if he were entirely honest with himself, the sword had never been his strongest skill either. His flair had always been in archery. For the moment, the smartest thing Legann could do was to play the part of the docile royal prisoner.
As the Nagreth motioned him to his feet, Legann couldn’t help but chuckle a little. He’d departed the Other Worlds in a state of warfare, and he returned to find it not much better off than when he’d left. Welcome back, he muttered to himself.
: : : : :
The launch through the portal was what Tiara needed to rattle her back into the present. Archrin had pushed her through without warning. He’d account for that later. She grimaced down at the stone floor she’d landed on. It was actually rather clean, upon her close inspection. There was hardly any dust between the grooves of the inlays.
“Princess?”
Tiara hastily pushed herself onto her feet, brushing off her hands on her white pants – not that there was anything for her to brush off. She was in an office or study of some kind. A large, plain desk made from what Tiara guessed was cedar sat in the middle of the small, bland room. Two high-backed chairs made from the same light colored wood as the desk were set against one wall – a tall, skinny window centered between them. Then, behind the desk itself, a familiar face peered at her inquisitively.
She forced a smile. She’d been in this room before, during an inspection of the Tlaid garrison. “Hello, General.”
Voiel raised an eyebrow. “Is
this what you intend to wear to Drivian?”
“Drivian?” She blinked. He’d witnessed her appear out of thin air on his office’s floor, and he was asking her about Drivian?
Just then, Sazx materialized at her side. The former Nagreth took a quick scan of the study, offered Voiel a short bow at the waist, and stepped beside one of the chairs, peering out the window. Voiel turned to Tiara for an explanation. Fortunately, she didn’t have to give one. Archrin burst through the portal in time to divert Voiel’s attention away from her.
Archrin nodded his head once. “General.”
Tiara swatted his arm. “You shoved me through the portal.”
“No,” he replied, “I merely nudged you to safety.”
Voiel cleared his throat. “Might I ask why the three of you are in my garrison when at least two of you are expected to be down in the courtyard?”
“Actually, they are in the courtyard,” Sazx informed them.
“We are?” Tiara whirled.
She joined Sazx at the window, followed closely by Archrin and Voiel. The scene below was one she’d already experienced. If Tiara had never seen her own past before then she most likely would have felt thoroughly disturbed about now. The Archrin from a little more than a week prior was walking alongside Tiara’s decoy with Tiara several steps behind. The present Tiara pulled a face. Why was the earlier her wearing that silly grin?
Archrin chuckled, glancing up from the window. “It’s like we never left.”
“Time really does move differently here,” she commented.
“Explain to me why you are here and there.” Voiel didn’t sound like he found anything humorous about the situation at all.
Tiara ran her tongue along the back of her teeth and faced him. “General, explaining this will require I tell you something that you don’t know about me.”
Archrin eyed her warily. “Tiara,” he said slowly.
She ignored him, feeling her heart rate increase. “Would you like to know what I can do? To see what I can see?”
Voiel frowned. “Are you saying that you’re gifted?”
“Here, let me show you.”
: : : : :
Olinia had fallen asleep on the couch beside Will. His arms enveloped her middle as she felt his chest rise and fall against her back. Apparently he’d fallen asleep, too. With a yawn, she opened her eyes to the dimly lit room. The Astrilites were gone, leaving the fire as the space’s only source of light.
The mansion was quiet except for the sound of Will’s breathing. Not even the massive storm outside managed to penetrate its thick exterior walls. Olinia couldn’t help but smile at the silence. After years of noise, it was amazing to finally have an extended period of time when she heard nothing more than her own thoughts. She doubted she’d ever try to get inside of someone else’s head again, at least not until it was absolutely necessary.
Yawning again, Olinia nuzzled her face beneath Will’s neck, inhaling his rich scent. She was now his fiancée. It was almost too good to be true. How had she – an Other Worlder – captured the heart of an Ethon? If she went back to herself during her slave days and explained what was in her future, the younger her would have outright laughed, never imagining such a reality. Yet, here she was – wrapped in Will’s embrace. He was to be hers.
“I love you,” she whispered into his tunic. It was nice to say it out loud.
Just then, fire shot up from her fingertips to her shoulder on her left side. The unexpected jolt of pain sent her rolling off the couch to the rug on the floor. She cried out in surprise.
Will bolted up, yanked from sleep. When he saw her cringing below him, he slid off the couch to kneel beside her. “What’s wrong?”
“I have to Globe,” she muttered through clenched teeth.
“Again?” He blinked. “Now?”
“Yeah, it definitely feels like I do.”
Olinia didn’t wait for his reply. Gripping onto his forearm with her right hand, she waved her left. Light spread outward, as usual. The Hidden Mansion gave way to an open field of tall green grass and a simple gravel road running straight through the middle of it. Olinia followed the road with her eyes, noticing that it continued beyond the grass to split a large body of water in half. It actually looked more like two oceans.
Two oceans! Olinia let out a short laugh as she realized where she was. The road was Water’s Pathway. She was in Evedon again. She turned to see if Will had recognized their location, too, but saw that he was watching a lone figure dressed in a pair of white scrubs.
“Tiara?” Olinia lowered her eyebrows.
“I don’t think she can see us,” Will commented.
“You’re right,” Olinia replied. Tiara hadn’t moved a muscle. She was close enough that she should have heard them. “We must be witnessing something from her past. A time she’s already visited.”
“I’m not so sure we’ll want to see what she can see,” he remarked. “Look at her face.”
Olinia peered more closely at Tiara and saw what Will meant. Tiara was gaping at some image behind them. It was obviously disturbing her. Olinia whirled, suddenly anxious.
A thousand different sounds hit her ears at once as Olinia’s eyes filled with the sight of war. It was as if someone had muted the scene until she was ready to view it. Well, she was no longer deaf to it now. The clang of steel, growls of beasts, and shouts of soldiers were so overwhelming that Olinia almost covered her ears. The noise wasn’t what shocked her, though.
In truth, Olinia had never been in battle. Even during the destruction of Dagon’s Black Castle, she’d been isolated from the bloodshed. Now, she had a front row seat to the devastation – desperately wanting to look away but unable to avert her eyes.
The tall grass was trampled from the bodies of both the living and the dead. Torn flesh gushed blood over the lush field, transforming it from green to black. Eveon warriors opposed humans and animals in front of her – their swords swirling around them with precision and speed. Yet, it was obvious that the Eves were far outnumbered and ill-suited for this conflict. The men and women they fought would be human one moment and an enormous beast the next, morphing through the air in the blink of an eye. The Eves were brawling with Craeles.
Suddenly, the ground changed beneath Olinia – zipping by as if she were standing still on a television screen while the images switched. She watched as the grass whooshed away, replaced by cobblestone. Only, it wasn’t really stone; it was glass – beautifully crafted and colored to imitate rock. Olinia looked up from her feet to find herself surrounded by Will on one side and Tiara on the other in front of a burning fortress.
Gaping holes – erupting with flames and black smoke – were scattered through the structure. The outer walls that encased the keep and courtyard in which Olinia stood, lay in ruins, as if a bulldozer had bashed them down. She eyed the turrets and parapets high above her head. Once they rose in brilliance – a symbol of High Royalty’s presence in Evedon – now they melted in the early evening sun. The Crystal Castle – a place Olinia had only seen once during her brief visit to Grennich – was dying in front of her eyes. Her chest ached at such a loss. She’d never even been inside it before.
“Even-tide, your majesties.”
Olinia dropped her gaze from the castle. To her surprise, the enclosure, all the way from the keep to the exterior wall, was filled with animals, ranging from a small cougar to a huge rhino. Olinia searched through the crowd of creatures for the human voice that had spoken in Eveon.
There, at the base of the steps leading into the castle, Talik stood, draped in a violet robe with a single yellow amulet dangling around his neck from a gold chain. He was sneering down at three figures on their hands and knees. Olinia gasped. All three wore chainmail with the crest Olinia displayed on her shoulder emblazed across the front of their royal blue attire. Yrond, Archelda, and Zedgry glared up at Talik, defiant despite their position on the ground.
Without acknowledging what she did, Olinia took a few
steps closer to her twin and grandparents. The animals around her were more than just Craeles – they were Velvitors. Olinia frowned. Why did her family appear to be in pain? They were trembling. Yet, as far as she could see, they didn’t have any wounds.
“How odd to think that we were once friends,” Yrond muttered, his jaw clenched. “There was a time when I would not have deemed you capable of invading Evedon.”
“Fool,” Talik spat out. “Clearly, I am capable of far more than the destruction of your world.” He gestured to a cluster of humans off to the side, almost hidden from view by the Velvitors.
Olinia squinted, trying to get a better look at them, and realized with a start that they were in Ethon garb. She quickly counted sixteen women and twenty-seven men – all appearing to be in their early twenties. Their faces held a sort of blank stare. Olinia’s eyes widened when she recognized Porter’s partner – the woman who had numbed Olinia at her campus. What were they all doing in Evedon?
Then it dawned on Olinia what was going on. Talik had employed his advanced gifted DS graduates – the ones useful in the art of war, like Porter’s friend – to aid in his attack. But they were under some sort of spell. The glazed look in their eyes made them seem to be in a trance. Olinia turned to her brother again. The pain he and her grandparents experienced must have been incurred from the gifted Ethons.
“It’s not right to make them your slaves,” Zedgry’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
Talik smirked. “I gave them their training. They are merely repaying their debt to me.”
A hand on the small of Olinia’s back made her jump. Will frowned down at her. “Where are we?”
Will had a good point. If there was a war in Evedon, shouldn’t she and Will be taking part in it as well. “If Tiara’s seeing the past, then we’re in Ethon. Unless-”
She glanced at Tiara, who still stood transfixed in place. Could this be the future? Had Tiara finally succeeded in the Fraers’ request?
“Unless what?” Will asked.
“Unless this isn’t the past at all,” she finished. “Tiara might be witnessing the future.”
