by Cara Carnes
Gasps rose from the holo-stream. Zelig sat forward in his chair as the seven councilmen grasped their throats.
A calming warmth filled him, drifted from one spirit to another. The presence replaced the darkest thoughts and torments with healing energy.
“I may be a mere slave, but I have more courage than any of you. I taste your fear, vomit from the vileness of your indifference. Tell me. Are you so far removed from the plight of those you serve you truly do not feel their distress? Their fear? Their desperation? Their hunger?” Snow laughed and shook her head. “You will now. This slave without a voice sends you the suffering of your people, those within the species you refused to defend. I may be only half Tezan, but the half that is finds your people unworthy to protect the power you are supposedly honor bound to defend.”
“Snow,” Ashan warned.
“Your people took a blood oath before the Summoner’s Well. Images flash within my mind of your Council vowing to protect all those loyal to the Oracle, to the Wells. Yet you cowered, turned your back on everyone. You cast your strongest, bravest warriors out into these unprotected worlds to do what they could while you cower in the dark like frightened babes.” Snow spat the words. “This mere slave wants nothing from your council, not yet. For now, you will sit there, chained beneath the weight of those you didn’t protect. You will feel what they suffered, what they endured. Then you will endure what my Shadows have suffered from your indifference. You will experience everything the warriors you do not protect because of your arrogance survived. That is the penance I, a mere slave, demand the Well to give you, its so-called protectors.”
Zelig growled as the com died. What had Snow done? He reached for her, but she charged from the room. Waves of anger filled the room. Several in the room rose, but no one moved to give chase. She needed time alone.
“She drew the rage, the pain and worst I’d endured from me,” Ren admitted.
“Me too,” Slade said. “The spirits fed it to her before I could command them otherwise.”
“She controls those of mine I’ve barely contained,” Marden whispered.
“We did this. The spirits within us drove her into a rage,” Ashan said. “I couldn’t stop it.”
“I couldn’t either,” Zelig said.
“The Well. The calm warmth was the Well’s power ripping through us. She truly commanded its movements, just as she said,” Varik said. “I never imagined she’d wield the power with such ease.”
“It was instinctual, a defense on our part,” Dacian said.
“I will go to her,” Ren said.
“No,” Zelig rebutted. “I will.”
Snow
* * *
Images assailed me, as though millions of spirits shoved their emotions into me. I fought their entry. Stabbing pain shot along my temples, through my entire body. Stumbling to my knees, I clutched my stomach and heaved its contents onto the ground before me. My vision distorted, clouded as if seeing thousands upon thousands of things within the same narrow window. What was happening?
Energy, raw and pure, flowed through me. Hummed within my veins. I had no outlet to expend it. I stared down at my hands, but saw only blood, carnage from phantom memories not mine. Not my Shadows. Not their spirits. I curled into a ball, hoped the smaller me proved an impossible target to strike, but the waves continued. Debilitating sensations, emotions too raw and all-consuming to overcome seized control of my body, my mind.
My soul.
“Snow.” The distant voice demanded my attention, like so many others. Yet, he knew my name.
The gravel voice looped the name again and again. I reached for it, confident it was one of my Shadows. Heat spread across my palm where I touched him. Zelig. His aura tasted of gritty strength and steely dominance. I needed the strength and commanding nature within him more than the reedy breaths I dragged in. “Zelig, help me.”
“Tell me what hurts.”
Everything. Nothing. Confusion and pain seized my tongue. Clutched my throat until no words escaped. I grasped his arm, felt the surge of a new spirit enter. Unlike the others, he struck the emotions clawing at me, the unseen forces seizing control. Another entered the fray, a fierce Avaru so strong and clean I took my first deep breath. Spirit after spirit appeared. Encircled me in a protective psychic shield.
“Don’t. You’ll get hurt. They’ll get hurt.”
“They are fine,” Zelig growled. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I was so angry. I wanted them to feel the suffering they caused, experience some of the hells you survived.”
“Who did this to you?” He cupped my face, but I couldn’t see anything beyond the hive of images, millions of them. The voices remained within my head, distance but a constant buzz that drowned out words. I forced focus to him.
“Zelig,” I cried, unsure why. He’d figure out what happened. He’d save me.
Eyes squeezed shut, I honed in on the protective spirits around me. Zelig’s etchings burned beneath my touch as my fingers roamed his arms, torso, down his legs. I fed each image I could not see energy. The more I gave, the more I felt build up inside me.
“Hold onto me, Snow. I have you,” he whispered.
13
Marden
Marden cycled between anger, grief, fear, frustration, confusion, and a hundred other emotions as the spirits within him seethed. Waited. Zelig, Ashan, Ren, Slade, Varik, and Dacian paced. Groans and whimpers rose from Snow, who was on a surface within the center of the large medical bay. Despite Marden’s adamant objection, Zelig had agreed she would receive better care aboard Xan’s vessel, The Achilles.
Marden grudgingly admitted Avaru technology was stellar in the medical field. Technicians and healers flitted in and out. They pried Snow’s eyes open and flashed a harsh light in. Each time she growled, feral and low like a wounded animal. He growled when another of them entered the bay. No more.
The man was older, remained three paces away, as if sensing how close to a Roteran Rage Marden was. “I am Olam, Xan’s Medical Officer aboard The Achilles. Please forgive my late arrival, I was assisting some injured warriors. I’ve been brought up to speed with Snow’s condition. She is the reason we are headed toward Tezan?”
“Yes, fix her.” Marden stood, took her hand. Cold. She was far too cold. He pulled a covering around her, willed more of his spirits to surround the others already standing sentry.
“I believe she has enough protecting her, warrior. Save your energy,” Olam said.
“She is in pain. She is under attack. I will not stand down until you fix her.”
The old man didn’t reply. He examined Snow. The process took longer than Marden wanted. The longer he took, the more agitated the spirits within the other realm grew. One by one, they returned to him exhausted and enraged. He sent more. Daxan refused to return. He and Zarik remained there, at the very edges of the telepathic realm.
Yet Snow was too far away for them to reach. Where had she gone? How?
Why?
He had failed to protect her.
“I’m afraid there is little I can do. It’s been many years since I’ve seen this firsthand, but I am familiar with her condition. It is similar to Roteran Rage. When a powerful spirit connects to the Well, the power fed to the person is stronger than what the average Summoner would receive. In Snow’s case, I suspect she wielded the Well with a stronger force than it’d had contact with in some time.”
“She’s used the Well many times,” Varik argued.
“Yes, but to what extent?” Olam asked. “I suspect her interactions were minor and with relay Wells.”
“The Council,” Dacian said. “She willed the Roteran Council to experience the torment and suffering of our people and the species they haven’t protected.”
“And they are on Roteran Prime?” Olam asked. “That is many slipstreams away. A great distance even with our advanced travel capabilities.”
“So, the distance made her ill?” Ashan aske
d.
“Not necessarily.” Olam sighed.
The old man needed to explain himself. Marden stroked Snow’s forehead. She was too pale.
“It feels as if she’s being attacked by spirits, emotions of others, but I cannot see who,” Slade said.
“Correct me if I’m mistaken, but when a warrior enters a Roteran Rage, it feels like an attack on the psychic plane, one strong enough for you to feel on the physical plane,” Olam said.
Everyone looked at Marden. He growled. He did not discuss the Rage with anyone, but he would if it helped Snow. “Yes, but what she feels is worse. My spirits around her are already weakening beneath the force assailing her.”
“Your rage was with how many spirits?” Olam asked.
“That is not your business,” Zelig said. “Get to the point, healer.”
“Ancient Roteran healers called what Snow experiences a Summoner’s Rage,” Olam said.
“I have never heard of it, and I am a healer,” Varik argued.
“Yes, but the Tezan Empire fell twenty-three solar cycles ago. They had not had a truly powerful wielder for at least four generations, so there was little need to train your generation on handling a Summoner’s Rage when none were alive.” Olam crossed his hands. “She is experiencing the emotions of those within the Well’s reach, its loyal followers. In Ancient times, the Summoner was a conduit, one which took and gave to the Well. At times, the Well would connect a wielder with others. It was quite rare.”
“Yet you think it’s doing that now? Why?” Ren asked.
“I’m not entirely certain, though I suspect it is because she is the Omega, as you believe. If that’s the case, she is likely being pulled into not only the psychic realm, but the Oracle’s realm. That is why you are having trouble reaching her. Her awareness has transcended this realm and is straddling them all. She is feeling everyone within all the Oracle’s realms.”
“The bridge,” Dacian whispered. Face paled, he sat.
“How do we help her?” Ashan asked.
“You don’t,” Olam replied.
“There’s a way. There’s always a way. Pull the ancient texts. I’ll contact Rotera’s Historians and get answers,” Dacian said.
“You have instinctively done what helps her the most. Your spirits protect her. They are at the very edges of the psychic realm, as near the Oracle’s realm as they can get. She will sense their presence, but they cannot pull her back, not alone. It requires an immense bond, one strong enough to transcend this plane and the psychic one so it can reach her within the Oracle realm.” Olam’s lips thinned. “There is perhaps something else we could do, but the effects are permanent, irreversible. Not something I’d recommend, especially for a Shadow squadron.”
“What?” Zelig demanded.
“A formal bonding ceremony,” Olam replied. “I understand they were banned by your Roteran Council a few years before Tezan fell, but a few healers I apprenticed with spoke of the ceremony. As I understand it, it permanently bonded all the warriors to the female, united all spirits on the psychic plane.”
Marden grunted. The older Roteran warriors within him offered morsels of information. “Spirits within me know the ceremony. It would help. If we were unified, we could strengthen the defenses we have around her.”
“Then we do the ceremony,” Ren said.
“There are risks,” Marden said. “The burden will be great for some of you. The spirits within us all would be carried by us all.”
The many dark souls in him would become a burden to them all. Marden loathed offloading any of what he’d endured onto his teammates. He was a detriment to them all, always had been. As if sensing his despair, Snow’s aura surrounded him. The contact was too brief, weak, but he calmed beneath the touch.
“I must mention something more,” Olam said. “Ancient texts spoke of a secondary ceremony, one which unified those to be mated with other squadrons, stronger ones who could help strengthen them if needed.”
“We will not share her with other squadrons. She is ours,” Marden growled.
“Agreed,” Slade said. Hands fisted at his sides, he glared at the Avaru.
“They would form a warrior bond with you. There would be no connection between the female and them, though she would sense them through her connection to you,” Olam said. “If her control over the Well is as immense as we all suspect, you will need support. It is too great a burden to handle alone. It would put you all in danger, especially her.”
“They would sense her through our connection. That is unacceptable,” Varik said.
“Is it? The alternative is death.” Ren drew his blade and held it out. “Which of you will kill her? Go ahead.”
“Enough,” Marden growled.
“I must see these texts you reference,” Dacian demanded.
“Certainly,” Olam said.
Zelig’s booted feet scraped along the deck as he turned, facing the silent warrior pacing in the corner. Slade halted. Complexion paler than Marden had seen, he looked around at them all. No one spoke, they all knew what conversation rested within the silence. Slade alone held the decision.
Dacian broke the silence first. “If a more powerful squadron is required, we know what that means.”
Dark Guardians. Though Marden’s Shadow squadron was as strong in physical terms as any Dark Guardian squad, their psychic strength was far more powerful.
“Would they agree?” Ashan asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” Slade admitted. He clenched his jaw, then looked at Zelig. “I’ll contact them.”
“Whoever you choose will have to be present for a warrior’s blood bond ceremony,” Olam said.
“How do you know so much about our ancient customs, Avaru?” Dacian asked.
“There was a time our warriors fought alongside one another to enforce the Well’s will.” The man turned. “Have Xan find me when you’ve made your decision.”
Zelig cursed, scored his fingers through his hair. “If anyone has concerns, raise them now. Otherwise, we move forward.”
“I’d do anything for Snow,” Ren said.
Many others agreed. Only Marden and Slade remained silent. Zelig glanced at him.
Marden shifted beneath the scrutiny. “You know my concern. You should not carry the burden of my spirits. It is too much to ask.”
“You’ve carried the burden alone too long. You honored Roteran warriors with your sacrifice, your willingness to salvage so many even though their weight destroys you.” Zelig set a hand on his shoulder. “For that alone, I would take them all myself. One of them is my brother. You are my brother. This has always been our burden to share.”
“As a squadron,” Varik added. “Or did you forget the blood bond we took? Has it been so long?”
“I’m not cutting myself again to redo that ceremony,” Ashan teased.
“Then you won’t like the warrior’s ceremony,” Dacian commented. He stood before Slade. “Are you okay with contacting them?”
“I’m fine. Like Ren said, I’d do anything for Snow.”
Slade
* * *
Slade sat beside Snow and looked at Marden, who was a steadfast presence on her other side. “You should rest.”
“I am fine,” the man grumbled. “The female keeps giving my souls energy. She senses our spirits around her. I will not leave her. The souls of Daxan and Zarik refuse.”
Slade sensed her aura rubbing against his spirits as well. He, Marden, and Zelig alternated the souls fanned around her. Varik, Ren, Ashan, and Dacian added some to the mix, alternating as well. But the three of them were the ones with the strongest warriors on the psychic plane.
“I will leave her if you ask me, for a brief moment,” Marden offered.
“No, stay.” Slade ran his hand across her forehead. “She is not as pale as she was.”
Marden grunted, clearly disagreeing with the assessment. “We can find another way.”
Slade raised his eyebrows.
“If c
ontacting them is too hard, we will find another way. None of us will fault you if you wish to avoid the Guardians.”
“It is past time,” he admitted. “Too many cycles have passed since I betrayed my oath to them.”
“You had your reasons. There is no fault in what you did.”
Slade didn’t argue semantics. What Marden and the others within his Shadow squadron believed didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the woman lying, still and cold. Too cold. He added another covering. Marden smirked.
“There is no fault in what you did,” Slade mimed. “You honored your squadron by salvaging them all. I would like to think we would have done the same, but I cannot imagine.”
Slade and Zelig had talked often about what the burden must be like. The warrior never offered comment, room for discussion. His concern over harming Snow was one Slade shared.
“The darker spirits within me are drawn to her light. She calms them,” he admitted.
“Mine are unified for the first time. Protecting her is their sole focus.” Marden ran his thumb along the back of her hand.
“Yet you don’t think we should claim her as a mate because you don’t trust them with her.”
“That was before.” Marden shifted. “Call them from here. I will remain silent, but you should not be alone. I carried a warrior’s shame for failing to protect my squadron a long time. You and the others always believed I was not to blame. Snow makes me believe it. My spirits show me through her eyes, her spirit. If I’m half the man she thinks I am, then I want to fight for her. And all of you. I see the same shame in your aura now, as if you believe what you did was wrong.”
“I did what had to be done. There is no dishonor in it.”
“No. As long as you remember that when you contact the Guardians, you will be fine.” Marden leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “I will be here to remind you, if you forget.”
