by LJ Andrews
Mercedes rolled her eyes. "I guess it's possible. I just don't want you trusting that man in any way."
"Look," Killian said turning to a steel chair against the wall. He removed a gray sweatshirt he'd used to conceal the book. "This is the journal he gave me. He said it was James Thomas's."
Mercedes' eyes widened. "Have you read any of it?" Killian shook his head. "What do you think is in there that could help you?"
"I'm not sure, Nathaniel thought it might be useful."
Mercedes brushed her fingers over the delicate spine and brought her face close to his. "I just want you to be safe. I know Nathaniel's betrayal was hard on you. I think a part of you still wants to trust him, but you can't Killian. He's dangerous."
Killian pressed his lips against hers. "I'll be careful," he whispered.
Mercedes smiled and threw her knives over his shoulders into identical cloth targets and laughed as he kissed her again.
Killian sat in his room alone staring at the leather bound book. The leather was pliable, almost too pliable as he opened the book. Dust splashed his face as the musty smell from the parchment overwhelmed him as he read the first handwritten entry.
1586-
Terrene Venture Log-1
Master Claec has given me authority over realm negotiations. On Merlin's recommendation. This assignment, I feel, is in part because I have earned respect from the different races, the people respond well to me.
Merlin works secretly in his chamber on magical objects since there have been troubles from the Glacien camp. I wish he would confide in me, or Dalia what he was creating. Rumors of dissenters are common from their side. Merlin has instructed Dalia to inquire if there is a base for such talk. After spending weeks in the presence of Master Claec, I wonder if the people would do well with an alternate government. Morale seems low during the Venture as of late.
Only time will tell.
Killian scanned the pages. Reports of the work building the realm. James' awe of the strange new world was evident as he wrote. He mentioned how he missed a younger brother left behind. The words were like speaking to a ghost, a ghost of Killian's own family. One post caused him to pause and read the short entry again.
1587-
Terrene Venture log-67
Dalia has left. I have reason to believe she has gone into hiding with the Glacien man responsible for the attack on the Cimmerian camp. The strange creation he has developed is terrifying, but fascinatingly powerful. I cannot help think it could be of use for good. I fear for my friend, he is dangerous and she may be unable to reach out for help if needed.
Merlin also relayed troubling news. Months ago his chamber was raided and the magical trinkets he has been desperately working with were moved. Merlin fears the Glacien's mad formula may have been created by portions of the four objects. This would mean a potential threat more powerful than even master Merlin.
Claec has cast several Glacien workers into the prison cells in retaliation for the fatal attack by the formula that claimed the life of his Queen. She was a good woman; I too feel sorry for her death. It is whispered among the people he plans to execute the prisoners, though I have expressed to him this is not wise. It will cause greater dissention between the realms and more uprisings. I am loath to admit Claec does not see it the same way. I fear his brother Rowan, with a frightening darkness inside, has persuaded him otherwise.
I cannot escape the thought there must be a better way to bring the realms together. One entity made up equally of each realm that could resolve problems justly. I fear for all the people, but especially the Terrenians. They are the race that has forgotten the truth of their heritage, and other races are becoming resentful at the lack of recognition.
Looking up from the entry he gaped in disbelief. Reading about the slaughter of people on the Venture twisted his stomach. But the possible foundation of Infinium sparked something inside. If the building blocks of the formula came from power inside the relics Killian wondered what that would mean. He mentally noted he needed to speak with his friend in bio-engineering, Connor. Connor would want to know anything involving Infinium, since he'd been the one to discover Killian had it inside his mind.
Late that night a blanket of multi-colored stars twinkled above Killian's head. The grass tickled his face and the warm air brushed against his skin. The setting was serene but a shrill scream chilled him to his core. Rising up on one elbow he peered at the strange, steel Praetorium building. The random large windows littered throughout the abstract shape burned in deep orange. Frantic people raced along the corridors with frightened screams, and black cloaked figures followed close behind swinging deadly blades.
His breath stuck in his chest as he tried to move from the comfort of his grass bed, but he couldn’t. Glancing down at his wrists, he was bound by every limb with thin, thorny brambles mixed amongst the small wilderness beyond the Praetorium entrance. Killian struggled and fought with all his might, but he could not free himself from the strange plants. His body burned and surged as the power pulsed through his veins, yearning to help his friends trapped in the glowing building.
Somewhere from behind he heard hushed voices, one was familiar. It took him to a time that seemed so long ago. Men’s voices, speaking low about wicked plans. His heart felt as though it stopped when he placed the familiar voice, one distinct voice nonchalantly speaking of Killian’s demise. Nathaniel. Craning his neck around he neither saw nor heard Nathaniel speaking to his unknown partner anymore. Only screams filled his ears. The sick smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils and such pain as he’d never felt seared through his body. Looking down at his writhing legs he saw a cloaked figure cutting long gashes along the backs of his legs and sides. In one hand the vicious attacker held a burning torch and maliciously charred his bare skin. With the other hand the sadistic attacker caught the draining blood from his legs in a crystal dish.
Killian cried out in pain, urging his power to stop the attack. At his command everything stopped. The pain, the rancid smell of boiling skin, the screaming Ponderi members. Breathing deep, ragged breaths he lifted himself from the ground, no longer bound by the prickled vine. No one was near, the building had vanished. Killian stood alone in a dark, misty setting. Whirling around at a sound of padded feet behind him he jumped back in a start as he came face to face with a familiar figure. He immediately recognized the Deshuit woman who had helped him escape the deadly talons of the Draykan in Ignisia.
“It’s almost time,” she whispered. Her eyes and upper nose were shadowed but he saw her pale lips move as she spoke.
Killian woke with a trembling start. His neck was drenched in sweat and his body trembled furiously. It had been weeks since his haunting dreams ransacked his mind, but this was different. It filled his soul with foreboding, almost as if he was witness to what would soon be.
Swinging his legs over the side of the massive king size bed he held a hand to his heart trying to slow its pounding rhythm. The last thing he’d seen was that same Deshuit woman. What did it mean? The thing that troubled him the most, even more than her apparition in his dream, was the aged, cracked, gilded charm she wore around her neck. It was his relic, his lost Cimmerian talisman.
Chapter 5
Fall of a Ruler
Killian paced in the blue-green glow from the brilliant, oversized moon shining above the limbo the Praetorium was nestled in. The dream had rattled him. He thought back to nearly six months earlier, when he still lived with Richard and Laura. There was a dream he’d had before they had doomed him to a prison sentence. He remembered the unnerving dream of two men speaking; planning wretched things, all of which led to his death. Now he recognized at least one voice, it had been Nathaniel. He wondered if his voice was recognizable because his treason had already been clarified. If that were the case it was possible another concealed traitor could still be among them.
He sat on a bench along one wall, clasping his hands tight together. The woman meant something, he knew it. She had ris
ked her life only a few months earlier to save his, twice. She had stopped the Deshuit attack, and distracted the Draykan. Why would his dream portray her with the relic? She hadn’t worn it when they had crossed paths. Killian knew if she had been standing so near to him, he would’ve sensed his relic nearby, but he remembered nothing.
A thought crossed his mind. The woman saved him. She recognized him in Ignisia, and it was almost as if she knew about Infinium. She had urged him to escape on his own as if she knew he could build a portal. His breaths grew deeper. He had a grandmother lost in the Hemisphere, banished for running and hiding with Killian as a child. Could the Deshuit woman be his grandmother Rhetta?
“You’re awake rather early,” a soft, whispered poetic voice sent excited chills down his spine. Turning his head, he sighed in awe at the beauty of the Cimmerian queen, Maurelle. Her long ebony hair was twisted long over her shoulder, the silver streaks caught the moonlight and shimmered like diamonds. He would never get enough of the swirling, misty silver in the queen’s eyes. It could be because she was the only Cimmerian who didn’t have to wear protective glasses. He rarely caught the unique silver glow, but Maurelle’s eyes were stunning.
“Your Highness,” Killian said standing in respect. She smiled and sauntered over to him. The light, wispy black gown ruffled as she sat on the bench. “I hope I didn’t wake you with all my pacing.”
Maurelle brushed a hand in front of her face. “I thrive in this light. I miss my beautiful land, and have found I hideaway for much of the day just so I can bask in the moonlight this place offers. I may be partial, but it is no match for the Cimmerian moons.” She smiled, showing her brilliant white teeth. “What troubles you Killian?” Her face creased in concern. Maurelle, though she was centuries older than him, looked his age. He’d grown close to the queen since she’d arrived to judge on the council when he was accused of hurting Egan. At times the leaders would drift to and from their realms through their own special track system to tend to their affairs. Killian was always pleased when Maurelle returned. She was so easy to trust and confide in.
Killian gave Maurelle a brief smile before walking to the window to stand next to her, but he said nothing.
“You don’t have to bear the burden alone you know.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“Maurelle.” She locked eyes with Killian, the silver swirled in a bright, intoxicating mist. “Please, we’re past formalities.” Killian laughed awkwardly and looked down at the ground. “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you? Your eyes give away your distress you know.”
Instinctively he reached up and wiped his eyes, trying to dull the vibrant orange ring he knew pulsed brighter according to his mood. Coming to the understanding the queen would not leave until he unburdened his mind, he quietly recounted the dream.
Maurelle’s eyes brightened and a crease formed across her forehead. “I wonder what it could mean.”
Killian shrugged his shoulders. “I never know what my dreams mean, but this one was different—like a warning. I’ve had premonitions before, but they are for only a few seconds before it happens. This was like a window into an actual event that is going to happen. The thing I can’t figure out is why does the Trinity Architect want Infinium so bad? It seems to be a waste of time from their goal of hunting relics, but perhaps it’s better for us since we’re close to finding the Glacien pearl.”
“Oh, I hadn’t heard.”
Nodding he continued, “Mercedes, Lucan and I will be jumping in a few days. I hope the empress will accompany Mercedes, but we aren’t sure if she will.”
Maurelle seemed thoughtful. “I would be happy to help encourage Gwyniera. It would be dangerous for Mercedes to go alone. She doesn’t know the strict ways of Glaciem, and there are dangers the empress should prepare her for.” Maurelle smiled, abandoning her thoughtful gaze at the fading, green tinted moon. “As for your dream Killian, I wouldn’t fret too much. I think your grandfather just wants you be cautious by making it seem as though you are the Trinity’s most sought after target. You said yourself, why would they waste time and pause the relic search; artifacts which would be greater than Infinium? I don’t want you to be careless in your actions since you certainly are an obstacle for them, I am just saying I wouldn’t worry too much about the dream.” Maurelle shifted and walked toward the wall to summon an elevator. The Pinkish-lavender sunlight was sweeping across the small wilderness, pushing away the unique moon.
“I agree, no one else seems to get it though.”
Maurelle smiled kindly and stared at the moon again. “Just focus on your mission, that’s all any of us can really do.”
They paused and admired the small wilderness glimmering in the brilliant greenish-blue moonlight. Small pink twinkles from large firefly insects created a diamond glisten along the dark green lawn.
“What’s Cimmerian like?” Killian whispered, not looking at the queen. “I admit it’s peaceful looking at the landscape like this.”
Maurelle sighed wistfully. “Cimmerian is magical in every sense. Beautiful blue grass hills, black granite caves, beautiful twilight mornings, fragrant emerald fruit orchards that make you feel as if you could never taste anything sweeter. My mother would take me through the orchards and pick the most tender fruit. We used to give the best of the crop to the people each harvest season.” Maurelle looked down as her mind drifted to a distant memory.
“I’ve never heard about your mother, only…” he drifted off awkwardly as he thought how the journal admitted Axel had killed the Cimmerian queen.
“My father,” she scoffed. “Yes, everyone remembers him. My mother died young. She was injured...very bad. Even bonding and extraction didn’t work. Sometimes I feel that’s where my father became lost.” Maurelle turned her back to the outdoors and let out a sad laugh. “You know Killian, my mother was a strange Cimmerian. If you haven’t noticed each race feels their realm is far superior to any other.”
Killian laughed. “Dax never gave me that feeling.”
Maurelle smiled widely and nodded. “No he is far too humble. Anyway, my mother she cared so deeply about all the races. She was so connected to the Hemisphere her silver eyes had a gold hue at times.”
“I would have loved to meet her,” Killian said when Maurelle paused.
“She was a wonder. I often miss her, but I hope she would be proud of the Queen I am. I try to follow her example.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that Maurelle. I’m sure she’s very proud.”
Maurelle smiled, her straight white teeth gleaming. She placed an arm on his shoulder before stepping toward an empty wall.
“Where are you going?” Killian felt his face flush at his abrupt question.
Maurelle turned and smirked. “I was going to get some rest in my cave,” she laughed before stepping into the open elevator car. “then I planned on helping you with the icy empress. I always enjoy our talks Killian. See you soon.” The steel doors closed on Maurelle and the soft woosh signaled her car disappearing somewhere into the vast Praetorium.
***
"Connor," Killian hissed from behind an engineering wall later that morning. Connor jumped causing his thick glasses to fall down his nose. His wavy brown hair ruffled as he brushed a hand through it when he saw Killian.
"Don't scare me like that," he pouted and returned to his tinkering on a long steel table lined with all manner of metal, plants, and Petri dishes.
Killian chuckled and stepped up to the table. "I have a question for you." Connor didn't stop working, but glanced at him inviting him to continue. "How much sense would it make if Infinium's genetic makeup was made from the magic inside the relics?"
Connor stopped working and stared straight ahead of him. "That...would make...a lot of sense actually." He said slowly as he turned to face Killian. "A lot. It could explain how the formula is designed to unlock the different realm areas of the brain." Connor moved swiftly and pulled a stool underneath him. Holding h
is hands in front of him to speak he continued.
"Merlin pulled blood from each realm leader, except Claec—Merlin used his own blood for the Cimmerian relic. So a tiny amount of each realm was applied to the life source of Merlin's magic, Killian. If someone took a piece of that life source from each relic, it could very well make up the building blocks of the formula's DNA."
"Exciting right?" Killian beamed.
Connor shook his head. "Exciting, perhaps. But Killian if this theory is true and the Trinity knows it somehow they will stop at nothing to destroy you." Connor's typical friendly demeanor was dark and serious.
"Why does that change anything?"
"You could connect with every relic. You could control each one greater than their own guardians could, Killian. You could decimate the Trinity. You could do anything you wanted to do: create, kill, design, destroy. Anything."
"Well anyone can do that with the relics that's why they are searching for them."
Connor nodded. "The relics will be powerful together, but it will still take time to complete their mission. The Trinity will have to move carefully and have enough of their followers willing to submit energy to the relics to make them powerful enough to destroy Terrene. It would kill one person that's why they recruit so many different people. The end game is to use many people to power the relics. But if we're right, you could do it alone. It wouldn't even phase you because Infinium would connect with the relics." Connor leaned against the tables and cleaned his glasses. "It's an amazing theory. If we ever find all the relics Shannon and I would love to explore the possibilities."
Killian smiled, but inside his stomach was twisted in knots. The Trinity wanted him dead just for being him, but now they would slaughter him if they found him.
***
Killian pushed around his golden rice seasoned with blasts of Ignisian pepper pearls at the mid-meal. Sophia and Dax, were having their typical argument about who was better at archery. The burly Ignisian spewed affectionate feelings toward Sophia that had begun to make Killian sick since he absorbed all the sappy hidden love every moment they were both nearby. Sophia, he suspected, was using her magic tricks to block him from ever gauging her feelings. When she’d learned his Empath perception had deepened she’d let him know how uncomfortable it made her. Ever since, he’d felt no hint of emotion from her.
