by Amy Miles
TWENTY
I move toward the stone circle, wary and alert. The birds sing their mournful tune in the trees, bidding farewell to autumn. Squirrels scramble around before me, winding around trees with last minute nut rations to store before winter hits. The trees quiver in the strong gusty winds, shedding the last of their lonesome leaves, stretching their limbs one last time before succumbing to a long winter slumber.
I pause, listening for any sounds beyond the large stone boulder before me. Instinct tells me that I’m not alone, but I can’t see or hear Kyan. This puts me at a grave disadvantage, one that I’m loathe to accept.
Leaping up to perch atop the rough stone, I pause only a second to compare its surface to that of the concrete streets of the City. The texture is similar but this feels different, less manufactured.
“You’re right on time,” a voice calls from below.
I look up to find Kyan standing in the center of the circle, his hands splayed open in welcome. The firm press of my dagger at my back is calming but I have no doubt Kyan is already well aware of its presence.
“Won’t you join me?”
I dart furtive glances all around, checking any blind spots before I spring into a flip and land less than twenty feet from him. His grin broadens as he turns his face to the side, as if he’s smelling the air.
“Why don’t you invite your friends to join us? I’m sure they would like to hear what I have to say firsthand.”
Toren rises first, appearing directly over Kyan’s shoulder on the far rim. Aminah’s bouncing curls appear less than five feet to his left. Zahra, Bastien and Eamon each rise from different sections of the boulders. Apart from Toren, whose scowl would send a young child running for their mother, the others appear curious.
“I told you it wouldn’t work. You can’t sneak up on him.” It’s hard to keep the smug grin off my face as Toren helps Aminah down. Not that I’m trying very hard. Despite my attempts to convince him otherwise, Toren was adamant that his plan would work. I guess he had to learn the hard way.
Each of my friends descends into the barren circle and come to rest by my side. Even knowing my friends were nearby the entire time, it does admittedly feel better to have them within arm’s reach. Bastien pauses next to my left side while Eamon towers to my right.
I can’t help but notice the contrast between the two guys. Although they are not all that different in height, they have remarkable physical and personality differences. Eamon is fair skinned, light haired while Bastien is dark, rugged and self-assured. They are like opposing forces, light versus dark, noble versus dangerous. It’s infuriating that both seem to be calling me in different directions.
“Now that you’re all here, I’d like to begin with a few answers.” Kyan turns to look each person in the eye. “I can tell you have a wide range of questions for me, but I’d like to speak first, if that’s ok with you.”
Toren shifts uneasily beside Eamon but says nothing. I glance toward Bastien and notice Zahra has actually severed her symbiotic attachment to his hip. She’s leaning slightly forward on her toes, lips parted as she stares wide-eyed at Kyan. I glance at Kyan and notice the tiniest hint of a flush along his collar. He seems to be working rather hard to not look in her direction.
Kyan’s offers me a tight smile with no explanation to follow. “If you will all take a seat.”
He motions to the ground behind us. Toren grumbles under his breath as he helps Aminah down before settling in next to her, wrapping his arm protectively around her shoulders. I’m actually really surprised he allowed her to leave the safety of the caves. He must be desperate to get a read on Kyan through her.
Kyan sits and tucks his hands into his lap, offering each of us a warm smile. Bastien tenses as Kyan’s gaze falls on him but quickly returns to me.
“I’m sure you have often wondered who and what we Caldonians are. We look like you in many ways, we speak, eat, and sleep like you, and yet we are distinctly different. Earth used to spend a great deal of time focusing on the mysteries of the stars beyond your planet. They made moving pictures about killer aliens who invade the planet. Obviously my skin is not green, nor do I want to eat your brains.”
“Thank god for that,” Eamon mutters over my shoulder. I shift and smile back at him.
Kyan continues on. “My race may be alien to you, but not to this planet. In my past, and your not too distant future, there will be a great war among worlds, a war that will eradicate all human life, apart from those who manage to escape. I won’t bore you with the details of how time and space travel works. All you need to know is that my people have returned to save yours.”
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” Bastien growls darkly.
“Indeed.” Kyan nods, his expression no less fierce. “The original plans, as presented to our assembly several years ago, was that of a peace mission. One that would help your people prepare for the coming war. We were misled.”
“By whom?” I ask. Each of us lean forward, our full attention on Kyan’s tale.
“A man called Aloysius, self-proclaimed King on Calisted, my home world. When he first approached the assembly, he spoke great words of wisdom, promoting peaceful sovereignty. Many people fell prey to his poisonous words, but a few did not. Those who opposed his climb to power were silenced. Over time, the disappearances began to add up but, by then, it was too late. He had built himself an army that was unmatched by any of the outlying planets. He took control of our government by might. The blood of thousands stains his throne.”
“And he sent you here? Why?” Eamon speaks up.
“Aloysius is fueled by greed, for power and revenge. He was among the survivors who managed to escape the war. His wife and child were not so lucky.”
“He’s trying to save his family,” Aminah whispers. Tears sparkle along her lashes.
“Yes.” Kyan nods. “And no. Time passes differently on Calisted than it does here. One Earth year equals twenty-five there. Aloysius has spent many years moving past his grief for his wife. His greed has now replaced his mourning.”
“How old are you?” Zahra speaks up. I glance over at her, shocked by the soft tone in her voice.
Kyan’s cheeks flush as he looks at her. “We also age differently. The first eighteen years we grow like you, at a normal pace. After that, time seems to slow for us as we reach our eighteenth birthright. On your world I look twenty years old, but on Calisted I’m 68.”
“So you’re an old man then?” Bastien laughs, winking at me.
“Not at all. Our oldest living founder is nearly 780 years old, but on your world would only look 60. It is all a matter of perspective. On Calisted, I am still considered to be a teenager.”
Glancing at Zahra, it’s obvious she’s relieved to hear this. I roll my eyes and turn away, catching Eamon’s conspiratorial grin from the corner of my eye.
“So if this Aloysius isn’t here to save his family, he must be here because of the war.”
Kyan smiles at Toren despite the fact that he refuses to do anything more than glare back. “A very astute deduction, Toren. Yes, he has come back, because of the war, but not to help your people. He wants to win this time.”
“How is that possible?” Eamon asks. “Human’s obviously didn’t do so well the first time around, and your king has done a pretty good job wiping us out now, so what’s he playing at?”
A vision unfolds in my mind with crystal clarity. The air is filled with huge, hulking ships setting the night sky alight with fire and shrapnel. Men scramble along the war torn ground, dressed in tattered rags. They are battling hand-to-hand with giant men, each nearly seven feet tall with skin that looks shockingly like the scales of a snake’s back. Their noses are thin slits of skin that gape open as they suck in great breaths of air.
Each alien is broad chested, with a patchwork of red scars and gruesome self-inflicted tattoos running down their bare skulls and along
their spines. I can only imagine it be to a tally of the number of people they have slain. The ground is a river of blood. Bodies lie everywhere, dotting the landscape with decay and disease, but still the battle rages.
“They’re here to replace us.” I whisper, blinking as the image fades from before my eyes.
Kyan watches me closely as the others react with various outbursts. “You saw it?”
I nod. Movement to my right catches my eye and I turn to see Eamon’s haunted eyes staring blankly back at me. His skin is void of color, his hands shaking at his sides. “There’s nothing we can do to stop it,” he whispers. “We’re all going to die.”
“No,” Kyan says emphatically, drawing back our attention. “That’s not entirely true. What you have both seen is only a glimpse of what may happen.”
Bastien watches me closely as I fight back against the panic rising within. I shake my head at him and wrap my arms around my knees. He turns his gaze back to Kyan. “Is this why you’re here? Why you care so much about training Illyria? She is the key, isn’t she?”
“Yes.” Kyan nods solemnly. He clears his throat and for the first time drops his gaze completely. This piques my curiosity as I watch an array of emotions flit across his face before he speaks. “Illyria is the Shadow Walker, the only one known to my kind. Her birth was foretold by three prophets long before I was born. They claim that she alone can bring balance to our worlds.”
Zahra snorts in disbelief, but I don’t give her the satisfaction of acknowledging her outburst. “What about my friends? I changed them somehow.”
“No.” Kyan shakes his head. “You didn’t change them, Illyria. You released them.”
“Care to explain that one?” Toren asks. Although there is still a definite bite to his tone, it has dropped a notch in the last few minutes.
Kyan sits forward and steeples his fingers before him. “When I first met Illyria, I told her that I could sense her because she was one of us. I’ve sensed her from the moment I arrived on your planet, but she was not alone. I have sensed each of you as well. You are all among my kind.”
A gurgling sound rises from Toren’s throat as he staggers to his feet. “That’s not possible. We are nothing like you!”
Aminah tugs for his hand but he refuses to be consoled as he begins to frantically pace behind us. Eamon sits back, blowing out a deep breath as he tangles his fingers through his curls. Zahra’s mouth gapes open in shock. Only Bastien keeps his calm, but I can tell that he’s wondering if this is the reason Kyan allowed him to run the night his parents died.
“How is this possible?” Aminah chokes out. “We knew our parents, were raised by them in the caverns.”
“You were brought to Earth as very small babies. You would have no memory of your true parents so all that you know is your adopted parents. After we arrived, I’m sure many children were adopted by those who survived. Whole groups of adults were rounded up and slaughtered in the streets, leaving countless children left to fend for themselves. You were among them.”
“My guess would be that the adults in your group divided each of you into specific families and never felt it necessary to tell you the truth. The parents you were originally selected to be with probably didn’t survive the invasion.”
“And me?” Bastien challenges.
“You are different. Your adoption remained intact. The parents you knew got you when you were only a few days old and kept you safe all those years. They had no idea who, or what you are, but I can promise you that your memories of them are quite genuine, Bastien.”
The tenderness in Kyan’s voice surprises me. I can hear sympathy mingled with pain for Bastien’s loss. “How did we come here then?”
“Soulmates are created in a lab on Calisted and births are predicted to the exact day. They are planned and widely celebrated. Your births were no different, but you six were special. The Oracles knew you must be protected from Aloysius so you were sent here, along with Guardians.”
“Guardians?” Toren questions, pausing in mid-step.
“Their sole purpose was to get you here safely and place you with loving families. After that, they were free to assimilate into the human race.”
“What about their eyes? Weren’t they noticed?” I ask.
“Of course some of them were. Aliens have always been a source of great interest on Earth. Your government seized those that failed to hide their identity well enough. No doubt when we arrived in your air space they were tortured and put to death.”
“How horrible,” Zahra whispers.
“It’s no worse a fate than what this scum has done to our people over the years,” Bastien growls, eliciting a glare from Zahra.
Toren gives him an approving glance before addressing Kyan once more. “So what is Illyria’s role in all of this? Or ours for that matter?”
“Each of you has been given an ability, a gift if you will. On Calisted, each child is given a gift, but only the best and brightest are trained. Those that grow up able to make flowers bloom at will don’t make the army’s cut, but there are those whose gifts can be used for tactical purposes. Aloysius exploited that and created a strong army. You six are among those who would’ve been trained and, as such, pose a threat to Aloysius, but none pose a threat greater than Illyria.”
His gaze softens when he glances at me. “Illyria is special, unique. She falls into uncharted territory and once Aloysius discovers she is alive, he will stop at nothing to get her.”
“Like Drakon?” Bastien asks.
“Oh no. Commander Drakon is a kitten compared to Aloysius. Drakon wants Illyria because of what she can bring him…favor with the king.”
“So he wants me for this Shadow thing within me?” I ask.
“Yes and no.” Kyan clears his throat, looking very uncomfortable with this line of questioning. “There is another reason he will want you.”
“I don’t like the way that sounds,” Eamon mutters, slipping his hand through mine. I squeeze his fingers, grateful for his support. I would never admit this to a living soul, but all this talk of the future is starting to creep me out. I just want to go back to spending my days hunting, when life was hard but normal. When I was in control.
“Your parents were forbidden to be together, Illyria. They broke Caldonian law when you were conceived. As such, your birth was uncontrolled and unsanctioned. The results were…unfortunate.”
Bastien bristles next to me, but Kyan raises his hand. “Peace, Bastien. Let me explain.”
He strokes his chin and his brow pinches as he fights for words. “Illyria’s parents were the descendants of a specific lineage that was meant to be kept apart by those who fear the Oracle’s prophecy. When you were born, you were given the DNA that matches Aloysius’ previous wife.”
“Hold on a second,” Toren throws out his hands, interrupting Kyan’s story. “So you’re saying that Illyria is somehow related to your king’s dead wife.”
Kyan winces. “In a way, yes. Illyria is her own person, but she is the spitting image of Aloysius’ former wife.”
Bastien blows out a deep breath. “So once he sees Illyria, she’ll be a perfect match for the woman he lost plus she’s powerful on top. That’s messed up, but in a way sort of brilliant.”
“What do you mean?” Eamon asks, his tone ripe with warning.
“I’m saying what Kyan is obviously not wanting to. Illyria is bait. That’s why he’s here. To train her so that when she’s presented to the King, she will be able to take him out. ‘Cause let’s face it, her presence here has made some pretty big waves among the Caldonians.” He glances back to Kyan. “Am I right?”
The instant Kyan’s head dips in agreement, shouts of protest rise around me. Toren throws his hands up in the air as Aminah jumps to her feet. Zahra looks like a spitting viper at the thought of my lineage to the throne. Eamon’s bellowing protests ricochet over the circular stone walls, b
ut I sit in numb disbelief. Only Kyan and Bastien remain silent, both watching me with great intensity.
I slowly rise to my feet and silence falls all around. All eyes zero in on me as I fight back the panic rising within. Eamon tries to step toward me, but I hold up my hand. “No. I just…I need a minute.”
“Take all the time you need,” Bastien says, motioning for everyone to sit back down.
I turn and walk toward the stone wall that towers nearly three feet above my head. When I leaped into this pit, I didn’t really stop to think about how I would get back out, but now I jump without thinking, easily spanning the top of the rock and landing ten feet on the other side.
“Guess we can add freakishly long jumps to her list of gifts,” Zahra mutters from below.
I lean forward and run. I have no idea where I’m headed, all I know is that I need to get away. I eat up the ground with ease, running faster and faster. I sprint around downed trees and across icy steams, never slowing, not even when my heart feels as if it might burst in my chest.
I head east, straight past the edge of the lake. I pass Bastien’s cave and leap down to the valley below, running full out, as if Drakon himself were chasing me.
Finally, spent of energy, I collapse to the ground. I don’t recognize this part of the woods. The trees are taller, growing at odd angles, as if weaving a living quilt through the space before me. I can see smoke rising in the near distance and tangled heaps of metal dotting the landscape. I sink back onto my knees and gulp in air, realizing that I’ve run a distance equal to four hours of walking in only a matter of minutes.
“Guess I can add Toren’s speed to the list, too,” I mutter to the empty woods.
I pull my legs up to my chest, resting my chin along my right knee as I rock. My mother used to rock me as a child. With a sharp pang, I realize the woman I knew wasn’t really my mother, not by blood at least. My mind wanders, wondering what my real mother might look like. Did she have wild blonde hair like me? Were her eyes violet too or do they resemble a true Caldonian’s eye color? Did she share my laugh or the dimple that appears on my left cheek when I grin?
My heart clenches as tears begin to form. I swipe them angrily away. I won’t cry. I can’t.
Your mother loves you, Illyria. Never doubt that.
I look up, not the least bit surprised that Kyan can still reach out to me. Do you know her?
Yes. He offers nothing else.
Will you tell me about her?
Someday, I will take you to meet her.
