Pearseus Bundle: The Complete Pearseus Sci-fi/Fantasy Series

by Nicholas C. Rossis

  He walked to his sparse room and closed the door. He pulled a towel out of his satchel, then sat down on the hammock for a moment, scissors in hand. He examined his face in the small mirror hanging from the wall, then draped his chin and chest with the towel. The beard was part of his First identity, part of his past. Shaving it off was more than grooming; it was letting go of the past and embracing the future. A future that did not include the Capital or the North. A future with Gella, in Anthea. Am I sure this is what I want? And even if I do, Gella may not.

  The scissors hovered next to his face for a long moment, then he started clipping the beard in slow, confident moves.

  The Marshes

  Lehmor

  Lehmor grimaced in pain and doubled up, drawing sharp breaths. His whole body hurt. Training with Abaddon turned out very different from his training with Oran, but just as hard, and Lehmor spent every waking minute training with him – whenever he was not with Moirah, waiting for her to wake up. The man was a relentless teacher who only fought with live weapons, the fiery blades ready to take a chunk of Lehmor’s flesh.

  Lehmor jumped back, narrowly avoiding Abaddon’s blade. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  Abaddon shrugged. “If you can’t survive my training, you’re a liability.” He prepared for a fresh attack.

  I need a moment! “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure, kid.” Abaddon dropped his stance and sheathed his Sheimlek.

  “It’s about Stripet.”

  “The Bear? What about him?”

  “Do you know who he is?”

  A darkness descended on Abaddon’s face for a moment and he traced the scar on his head with a light finger, lost in memories. “Yes.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Why kill all the Bears?”

  “I didn’t…” Abaddon seemed surprised. “You really don’t know?”

  Lehmor frowned. “Know what?”

  Abaddon took him by the shoulder and turned him around. They now faced the Wolves’ village. Morning fog rose from the ground, dissipating at knee level. Light puffs of smoke emanated from the chimneys, disappearing into the shimmering golden dome above. In the early morning, the scene was tranquil, serene. Only the clucking of some sleepy chicken interrupted the quiet. “What do you see?”

  “The Wolves’ village.”

  “There are no Wolves.” He chuckled at the bemused look on Lehmor’s face. “Those are Bears. The ones that accepted the Lady’s protection, anyway. The rest… They sided with the Whispers. Stripet’s father led the rebels. They would have killed the rest, had we not helped them escape. The Old Woman brought them here, gave them a new name. A new tribe was born, and we’re her warriors.”

  Lehmor’s jaw slackened. “Stripet said the Old Woman destroyed the Bears because they lost their Argikar.”

  A bitter laugh escaped Abaddon’s lips. “They didn’t lose them. They dug them up and threw them away to demonstrate their allegiance to the Whispers. They started attacking people on their way here. When they attacked a large group of Crow pilgrims, I begged the Old Woman to let me deal with them. She refused, said she would send her own daughter to talk some sense into them.” Abaddon pointed at a domed building in the middle of the village. Twin torches lit up its entrance. “Her body is in there. What was left of her, anyway. They cut her up, sent her back in pieces. Even then, the Old Woman hoped to resolve the situation peacefully.” Abaddon examined his calloused palms, rubbing his thumb on them absent-mindedly. “We took matters into our own hands. Made a deal with the Crows. When the Old Woman found out what we’d done, she was furious.” His eyes sparkled with defiance. “But I never regretted it.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “Those Bears who stayed faithful. We are her army now. We’d die to protect her.”

  “I hope it won’t come to that,” a soft voice said.

  They both spun around to see the Old Woman standing behind them, her hands crossed before her. She had the form of a regal young woman, bright light emanating from her. Lehmor stared in awe. “I’m sorry.”

  She took his hand. His worries melted away, along with the pain in his body. A sweet smile played on her lips. “Come, Lehmor. Your wife wants to see you.”

  His eyes popped wide open with surprise. Without waiting for her, he dashed all the way to Moirah’s room. He burst through the door, to find Moirah singing a lullaby to their baby. Cyrus was sitting on his bed, his legs dangling on the floor, watching them. For a second, Lehmor wondered if Cyrus thought the baby was his. He pushed the thought from his head. Nothing mattered but Moirah.

  She looked up at him, startled by his entrance. He took her and the baby in his arms, fighting the urge to crush them in his embrace. He placed his hands around her face and looked deeply in her eyes. With trembling fingers, he traced a faint scar leading from her eyebrow to her temple, jagging upwards at the end. He kissed it softly, then his lips searched hers, but she turned her face away.

  He took her hand, worried that his kiss had hurt her. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” She turned her attention to the baby. “She has grown.”

  Lehmor longed to hold her again, but leaned back instead to study them. Moirah avoided his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Moirah ignored him to place a finger on the baby’s lips. She smiled as the baby suckled loudly the appendage.

  “What’s wrong?” he repeated.

  “I’m just tired, that’s all,” she said, still avoiding his burning gaze.

  He clenched his teeth. Is this what I’ve been waiting for? A wife who won’t talk to me? “You’re angry.”

  She pursed her lips. Just as he was about to leave, she spoke, still looking at the baby. “We could have died.”

  “We’re—”

  “Warriors. Yes, I know.” She lifted her eyes to his, tears forming on their edge. “And we could have all died. Not just you and me, but her, too. Our baby. We could have all died, and for what? To save a bunch of people trying to kills us.”

  “They’re not—”

  “All the same?” she interrupted him. “So you’ve said. Does that make so much of a difference?”

  “Yes!” He ran his hands through his hair in exasperation.

  “It’s a matter of principle, huh?” Her voice sounded broken, bitter. “When we married, you promised to take care of me. When you saw our baby, you promised to take care of her. What about your promises, Lehmor? Where were your principles when we nearly died?” She now raised her voice. “You worry about these strangers, who have done nothing but plot against us. What about your father, your family? Shouldn’t keeping your promises also be a matter of principle?”

  He jumped to his feet, no longer able to hold still. “You’re a warrior. Act like one!”

  She flayed him with burning eyes. “Yes, I’m a warrior. But I’m also a mother. Are you a father, or should I find someone who is?”

  “Someone like Cyrus?” he spat at her, immediately regretting it. She looked away to hide the hurt in her eyes, but her words had made him sick to his stomach, made him want to punch something. A storm of conflicting emotions raged in his chest. Relief that she had made it; that they had all made it. Anger, that she failed to rejoice in this. Fear, that she may not love him anymore. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Cyrus, who had lain down again, turning his back to the quarrelling couple in a vain attempt to make himself invisible. This is all his fault!

  For a moment, he considered lashing out at him, making him deal with the consequences of his actions. And yet, he knew this would be a mistake. It was Lehmor who had decided to ignore the Old Woman; a decision that had cost them Malekshei. It was the right one, so why did it feel so bad? He felt lonelier than he had in a long time, even lonelier than when he had lain in that hole in the ground, waiting for the fire to pass. Wiping away something in his eye, he stormed out of the room, not waiting for Moirah’s answer.

  On his way out,
he crashed on the Old Woman. “Why does the right decision feel so wrong?” he blurted out through gritted teeth.

  She placed a hand on his broad shoulders. “Give it time. In the meantime, we have to get ready for the mission. Get some rest. We leave at dawn. Don’t you want to say goodbye?”

  He shook his head. “I doubt she’ll miss me,” he said and stomped onto the moving corridor that would lead him outside.

  “Lehmor!” the Old Woman cried out behind him, but he did not stop.

  The Marshes

  Marl

  He stole a look at Xhi, sitting on a dead trunk, sipping a clear liquid from a large flask. Marl had not had a drink in what felt like ages, and his mouth watered at the thought. Fire rushed through his veins and burned his throat. His stomach tightened with anticipation. He turned away and took a few uncertain steps back towards his tent. Valentiner would be there, probably with Tie.

  He muttered a curse and his pace slowed down, his heart quickening with bottled-up rage. Ever since that damned creature had attacked his daughter, he had been dragged from one unlikely situation to the next. They had survived everything life had thrown at them so far, but how long before their luck gave out? What would happen next?

  Screw this, I deserve a drink! He spun around to stand next to Xhi. Dusk was falling fast as the man patted down the trunk. Soon, the forest would be covered in darkness. Somehow, that made Marl’s decision easier. With a groan, he sat down beside Xhi. When he offered him the flask, Marl licked his dry lips. “You know, I…”

  “Women!” Xhi bellowed. “Can you believe she got lost in the woods? It’s a miracle she survived. And then she comes back like nothing’s changed.” He chuckled bitterly. “Maybe nothing has. I mean, she still won’t have sex with me.”

  Marl could see the jailor was already half-drunk. “Yes, it’s—”

  Xhi leaned closer, close enough for Marl to smell the alcohol in the man’s breath. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t think she loves me anymore,” Xhi whispered and tapped his nose. “I’ve known for a while. Don’t know what happened in the woods, but it’s worse now.” He turned to face Marl with tearful eyes. “I shouldn’t have hit her. But she brings out the worst in me. I love her.”

  Marl barely listened, his thoughts fixated on the intoxicating liquid in the man’s hands. Noticing his desire, Xhi handed him the flask. Marl refused at first, but Xhi pressed it into his hand. “Can’t bear to lose her,” he whimpered. “What do I do?”

  Marl’s fingers trembled with desire as they clasped the flask. He raised it to his nose and took a deep whiff. The smell was pungent, with overtones of various herbs. The aroma made his head swim. He took a hesitant sip. The alcohol burned his tongue, then flowed down to his stomach like liquid fire, burning his innards on its way. A grin appeared on his face, then he took another sip. This time he swirled it in his mouth before swallowing, enjoying the numbing sensation. When the sip went down, he made sure a big gulp replaced it.

  “…make love to her, that’s what I should do,” Xhi was saying next to him. His words were slurred, and Marl wondered how much the man had already had to drink. He had to prevent Xhi from drinking any more, he reasoned, and attacked the flask with renewed fervour, until Xhi pried it from his hands. “Hey, that’s enough.”

  Marl frowned and tried to snatch back the flask, but Xhi jumped to his feet with a surprising agility. “I need to find my wife!” He threw the flask to the ground before stumbling away.

  Marl crawled to where the flask was and grabbed it, raising it to his lips once more. Dark thoughts swirled in his head, the anger at his predicament finally breaking through his fear. I should have never listened to Valentiner. What’s our business with this lot? She’s cured now; what do we have to wait around for?

  He emptied the flask, seething with resentment. After a long while, he rose on unsteady legs and stumbled towards his tent, pausing briefly to drain the flask. He let out a disappointed grunt as he suckled the last drop out of it, then threw it into a bush. For a moment he forgot where he was heading, then it hit him: he had to get Valentiner out of that place, had to take her home.

  Reaching the tent’s flap, he raised it to peer inside. Valentiner was sitting in a strange posture, her legs crossed under her, hands resting on her knees. She opened her eyes to stare at him. “Oh, Dad.”

  Was that disapproval in her eyes? His cheeks flustered a furious red. How dare she disapprove of her own father? “You don’t…” He frowned and threw her a seething look, raising his finger at her. “I’m your father! You do as I say!”

  Valentiner’s eyes widened in fear as he stumbled towards her. The look cut him like a sword in his heart, but he had to take her to safety. She would realize that someday.

  “That’s enough,” Tie’s calm voice said behind him.

  He spun around, grabbing a pole to steady himself. He lost his balance and pulled it on his way down. Valentiner let out a muffled scream as the thick fabric crashed on their heads. Marl heard hurried footsteps around them as he struggled to free himself. His foot caught on something and he kicked. Someone cried out in pain. Marl’s leg was once again free. He tossed and turned, then started screaming in frustration and anger.

  The Marshes

  Hecate

  She was floating in a sea of calm and joy, her every fibre tingling with pleasure. Teo’s loving presence surrounded her. Gratitude towards him welled up from her soul. Murmuring with delight, she let her gaze drift to a faraway sight.

  A bundle lay on the ground, surrounded by angry men. The image was brought into sharp focus and she recognized one of the men as Xhi. He was screaming obscenities. The object of his rage was a shackled man, moaning with pain. Xhi kicked him with all his strength. Two men mimicked him. One was a towering, black-clad First with a hideous, burning scar on his face. The second, a scowling bearded First she had come to know as Lehmor in the last few days. Together, the three of them pounded the helpless man into a bloodied pulp.

  Hecate screamed in agony, feeling every blow on her own body. Her tranquillity shattered. She exploded in rage and stormed at the men.

  “Not this way,” a voice whispered in her ear.

  She froze in mid-air and felt a tug at her hand. Opening her clenched fist, she saw the cylinder Teo had placed in her fingers before kissing her goodbye. Understanding filled her head and she snuck behind the men. She lunged at the bound man and pushed one end of the cylinder against his skin. The cylinder hissed as it emptied the liquid into his body.

  She cackled at the panicked look of the bullying men as the man on the ground growled and flexed his muscles to break the chains. Splintered metal whipped them, leaving red welts on their skin. “Stripet,” the voice whispered again in her ear, bursting with pride. “My boy.”

  Stripet grabbed the black-clad First from the throat and lifted him into the air. The man kicked and clutched Stripet’s hands in a vain effort to pry them apart. With a twist of his strong hands, Stripet broke his neck and sent him flying at Xhi.

  Hecate chuckled as the sorry excuse of a husband crashed to the ground under the dead man’s weight. Stripet pulled him from under the corpse and twisted his arm behind his back. Xhi screamed in agony, then his arm popped out of his shoulder. He clutched his shoulder, crying in pain. Stripet grabbed his head and smacked it against the ground, again and again, with monstrous force, until Xhi’s brain spilled against the rocks, painting them a sickening pink.

  Stripet spun around to chase a fleeing Lehmor. Hecate stood back, mesmerized by the sight of her dying husband. A burst of mania bubbled from her gut to fill her chest, and she cackled her delight. She spat at his half-closed eyes, observing with glee the life oozing out of him.

  When she turned away, Stripet was standing over the third man, his hand clutching the First’s still beating heart. Stripet let out an elated roar and squeezed the soft flesh, his face a mask of triumph.

  The roar woke her up. Only it was not a roar, but a man’s scre
ams coming from outside. Her eyes flew open, her heart still pounding in her chest, a primeval joy running through her veins. Trying to turn, she found Xhi’s heavy hand cupping her breasts. She almost choked with disgust at the memory of his sexual advances. She had endured him for the sake of Teo, her lover’s thought on her mind even as Xhi spilled his loathed seed inside of her. Within minutes, he had started snoring softly beside her, sleeping away his drunken stupor. It had taken her longer to fall asleep, the trickle between her legs sickening her.

  She shoved his hand away to sit up. Noticing Xhi’s satchel next to their straw mattress, she opened it to produce a half-empty bottle of liquor. She took a swig and washed her mouth with it, trying to get rid of the sick feeling. Still holding the bottle, she got up to visit the small hut housing the toilet. Everyone was standing around a fallen tent, where the continued screams were coming from. She marvelled at her husband’s ability to sleep through the commotion; the ragtag team of filthy First, one more disgusting than the other, made enough noise to wake up the dead. She hated every one of them, but reserved her most burning loathing for her husband.

  On her return to their tent, she noticed a small group exiting the cave. The screaming had finally subsided, but everyone was still gathered around the collapsed tent. Quickly melting in the shadows behind a tree, she gasped at the sight of the men from her dream. A man in the middle was stumbling like a drunk. Lehmor and another First carried him, his arms around their broad shoulders. His head hung on his chest. Behind them, the black-clad man from her dream and a woman everyone referred to simply as old, were talking in low voices.

  A lamp in Lehmor’s hand shone briefly its light on the face of the drunken man. She fought a gasp as she recognized Stripet. Her hand jumped into her pocket and fished out the cylinder Teo had given her. She kept it on her at all times, as he had asked of her. Her gaze travelled to the bottle in her other hand. As the men hurried past her, she emptied its contents on her and jumped out of the shadows. She staggered towards them, then crashed on Lehmor, startling him.