Harifa Edus
Randl
Whether the hooded figure knew I'd see past the fog when he activated the explosives hidden in Gaster's imposter I had no idea, yet for a brief moment, as I stepped forward to bring us into the light, I saw it.
Saw him.
Saw where he was and what else he'd planned.
I can't recall whether I shouted aloud or mentally, but I do know that I lifted my hands to ward off the blast.
In two places.
Mer'bali
Varok
I'd taken myself a safe distance away to watch the blast—no need to tempt fate as I wasn't scheduled to die that day.
I'd watched explosions before, as they happened and then vids of them later, slowing the images down so I could see them happening more clearly. I felt a rumble, as if the explosion had begun.
Abruptly, it stopped.
The Prophet's shout sounded in my head and I felt my body stretch, as if it were taffy pulled reluctantly away from a spoon. I had no time to wonder or question; it happened too quickly.
New Fyris
Winkler
Kooper and I threw up shields the moment the imposter exploded—except that he and the five with him exploded together, and then didn't.
Like a rubber band that had been stretched to its limit before popping back to its original size—that's what I recalled seeing before those six and Randl, who'd thrown up his hands in a defensive gesture, disappeared together.
"What the hell just happened?" Kooper cursed.
"Where's Randl?" Quin sounded close to tears.
Bornelus
V'dar
"Call the ships," I shouted at the soldiers I'd pulled away from Lee'Qee. The city was compromised and we'd never be able to go back.
He'd seen me—that nameless, faceless man whose vision had bored into mine for a moment, stripping plans away from me in the time it takes to blink.
The six from New Fyris and those martyrs dedicated to killing Lebbon in Mer'bali had been transported to Bornelus, too—by him. I'd barely thrown up a shield to protect myself and the others before their delayed explosion occurred.
Somehow, he'd accomplished that, and I was determined to learn it for myself, if it were possible to do so.
"The ships have been called," Varok replied to my order. I was clearly angered by the turn of events, so he knew not to approach me. Questions crowded his mind, however, and I was grateful he was too frightened of me to ask.
I had no real answers at the moment, but I intended to find them.
"I'll be back," I snapped. "Go to the designated place, best possible speed," I commanded.
"Of course." Varok bowed to me.
He wanted to know where I was going.
I was going back to Lee'Qee.
He would be waiting there for me; I was sure of it.
Lee'Qee, Pyrik
Randl
Under our noses, just as I'd said. This wasn't the time to gloat about being right. I had no idea what to do when he came back, because he surely would.
It's what I would do.
He hadn't known of my existence until now.
I'd seen him in my dreams. I'd seen more when my vision connected to him. His soldiers called him the Prophet; I'd gotten that much from him. As for his real name, I hadn't seen it—it was well-hidden. I'm sure he had a very good reason for that.
Just as I hoped to hide my name from him.
The thought made me laugh—I was about to die and I knew it. Whatever I'd done in New Fyris had been a fortunate accident, and I hadn't had time to analyze what it was, exactly, that I had done.
Kooper could have died in the explosion—that was the Prophet's intention.
I'd not only interrupted that, but foiled the attempt to kill Haral Lebbon, the leading candidate in Pyrik's upcoming election.
I figured Lebbon would be less apt to go along with the Prophet's plans and ideas. He'd become a target, therefore, clearing the way for Lebbon's opponent.
I felt the planet groan beneath my feet as the heavy shield around Lee'Qee dissipated. For years uncounted, that shield had hidden Lee'Qee from prying eyes and held back the radiation poisoning from a nuclear accident, centuries earlier.
All of it was now making its way outward, and I had no idea what the effects the poisoning would have on the planet or its population. The six dump sites were microscopic next to this. Kooper and Jett would learn soon enough what Pyrik had hidden for so long.
I hoped the Conclave would be postponed indefinitely, and a new site chosen for a later date.
Twenty yards away, he appeared, still dressed in the robe and hood that covered his face.
I'd already seen past the hood—he couldn't hide from a mindsighted blind man who could see in the dark if he wanted.
Fine, flesh-colored scales served as his skin. Dark eyes saw much, although he wasn't blind. Like me, however, he could focus on what was around him with his mind. My hand went to the medallion around my neck, still hidden beneath my shirt.
Touch the stars, Zaria had engraved upon it.
Touch the stars, indeed.
V'dar
He stood there, waiting at the end of a broken street, a hand over his heart. Did he think that would protect him? That I couldn't blast the heart out of him and eat it if I wanted?
He'd won a round, because I hadn't been aware of his existence.
That existence would end here.
From where I stood, his eyes glowed silver in the light. What was that supposed to mean? I took a step forward, thinking to get closer so I could see his death more clearly. He closed his eyes, then, shutting off the silvery effect.
What the bloody hells was he doing?
No matter. His death belonged to me.
Randl
The stars exploded in my mind as I reached the proper place in my meditation. With each massive explosion, I breathed deeper, as if I were sucking in the essence of the universe about me. Before, when I'd reached out to them, it was only a half-hearted attempt, and I'd fallen asleep.
This—it took but a moment.
It took an eternity at the same time.
"Die, fool," the Prophet shouted.
I opened my eyes.
The blast he sent was designed to obliterate me and the abandoned city around me.
I slowed time and smiled.
Le-Ath Veronis, ASD Headquarters
Travis
"Bloody, fucking Lee'Qee," Kooper pounded his fist on the desk which held the vid-monitor.
We'd watched it in real time, then Kooper replayed the vid again and again, to make sure he hadn't missed anything.
Nothing would change, no matter how many times I watched. The two men faced each other on a street full of broken concrete and neglect. The blast the hooded one sent—as if it were a simple thing for him to do—was blinding in its brightness.
Kooper slowed the image of the blast, which showed Randl, putting up his hands at the last moment.
The subsequent explosion rocked the abandoned city and destroyed everything within a twenty-mile radius.
I felt numb.
Somewhere nearby, Sabrina wept as Trent held her. David and Terrett had turned their backs on the vid-screen after the first viewing.
I hoped we were drawing the wrong conclusions, but in my mind, if one had survived, then the other likely survived as well.
Perhaps it was better to believe both were dead. Ultimately, to think that someone with the kind of power the hooded man wielded could die in his own blast was more comforting than thinking he was still alive and plotting revenge, somewhere.
I'd already attempted to send mindspeech to Randl.
There was no reply.
"Message from Director Riffler," a flunky held out a comp-vid to Kooper. I didn't fail to notice that his hand shook as he did so.
Kooper took the device without a word and read Jett's message.
"Teeg and Ildevar say the Conclave has been postponed until next ye
ar, and will be held on Campiaa. Pyrik has been quarantined and its population is rushing to get inoculations against radiation sickness."
"How the hell could anyone survive in that poisoned mess while hiding from everyone for years?" Mom and Winkler had arrived, although Winkler was the one to speak.
"No idea. It would have altered them somehow, I think." Kooper raked fingers through his hair. He was resigning himself to the fact that Randl was likely dead.
"You know the filth behind all this took Lee'Qee's residents elsewhere," Mom pointed out. "We have to find them before they continue with their plans. We've only interrupted them for now."
"I understand that." Kooper sat heavily on the chair beside the desk.
"Word from BlackWing VII," the flunky was back with a second comp-vid.
"Well, looks like their jumping off place was Bornelus," Kooper read the message, then tossed the comp-vid onto the desk, where it rattled against the first. "BlackWing VII says dozens of ships appeared in Bornelus' orbit, then left shortly afterward. No idea where they came from or where they went—they were shielded too well and only dropped their shields to load passengers. VII was too far away to do anything about it."
"Great. They're holed up in another place like Lee'Qee, and nobody will find it," Mom fumed.
"We've started an investigation into WildTree and the other logging concerns after the events in New Fyris," Kooper said. "If there's a connection, or anything else to find, we'll get to it. Quin's willing to work overtime with images and such."
"Because we don't have Randl anymore." Winkler's voice was flat. He was suffering, too, he merely hid it better than some of us.
"Honey?" Mom came to me and touched my arm.
"Mom, I think they're both alive," I blurted. "That's a really good thing and a really bad thing at the same time."
"I'm not going to question your assumption," Mom sighed. "Because I'm worried about the same thing."
Vogeffa II
V'dar
It made sense in a twisted sort of way that I'd land here—where I was born. My father was dead; my mother, too. There was nothing here for me, except a place to recuperate from the blast in Lee'Qee.
I'd never been affected this way by any attack before, and felt extremely weak and ill as a result. How he'd accomplished that, I had no idea.
While I recovered—however long that might take, I'd begin making plans to hunt the bastard and destroy him.
Yes, I was sure he'd survived, just as I had. Where he'd landed, I had no idea. Perhaps he'd landed on the planet of his birth, as I had.
Time to begin looking for those things—as soon as I found food and a comfortable bed.
The outskirts of Gungl taunted me as I slowly hobbled down its fractured streets, searching for a suitable roof and sustenance.
Randl
Where the fuck was I? I'd awakened in a strange place, in a strange bed, half-frozen and feeling drained of strength.
"You're in the mountains of Falchan," an unfamiliar voice informed me. "Winter is coming, so get used to the cold."
Turning my head on the soft pillow, I found a dark-haired man sitting on a chair beside my bed. "Salidar DeLuca," he introduced himself. "It's five years earlier than the time you were blasted away from Pyrik. I was asked to instruct you in the ah, finer arts of warfare."
"By whom?" I turned my face toward the ceiling, which was made of finely-carved wooden beams. Wolves, dragons and eagles were engraved in detail along each beam.
"A friend," Salidar shrugged. "She said you needed an edge when you went back to work, six years from now."
"Zaria," I sighed.
"She said you'd know."
"Yeah."
The End
MindSighted: BlackWing Pirates, Book 1 Page 27
