“Let the slaughter begin,” I murmured to myself. Turning from the window, I faced Dane and said more loudly, “Gather the weapons.”
“Right away, brother,” he replied.
As he strode out of the command center, I looked around the room at everyone else. “This will be the greatest battle you have ever fought,” I told them in a booming, grandiose voice. “It will be imperative you remember all of your training. We do not know what the humans will do, but it is best to assume the worst. Do not let them get the upper hand. Do not show mercy. A thousand years of observation has taught us humans will turn on those who offer a helping hand. Watch out for one another. You are brothers-in-arms. There is strength in numbers, but, if you must fight alone, fight to the death. We must not lose this war.”
All eyes were on me; all pale azure faces turned in my direction. I didn’t sense an iota of fear amongst my warriors. They were angry, still energized from the attack in space, and I could see they were itching to take out their aggression. I didn’t blame them, and I was grateful for their hostility. I had spent my life learning and perfecting military strategies, and I had found that hatred and righteousness were perhaps the best tools for survival when faced with death. As my warriors took in my words, I knew they were ready.
Dane returned and said, “The weapons are ready.”
“Good.” Looking once more around the room at my men, making sure to lock eyes with each and every one, I said, “It is time. Remember. You are A’li-uud. You are fighting for our very existence.”
The command center was suddenly filled with war whoops and stomping, and I joined in. We rushed in a hoard out of the room to the makeshift armory. Hands grabbed swords, knives, daggers, bows, clusters of arrows, axes, maces, and every other tool within sight. There was an abundance of shields piled in the corner as well, but very few men opted to take one, which I approved of. Montemban warriors were not the most skillful warriors in all of Albaterra because they hid behind protection; as long as I had been an Elder, I had insisted that my fighters learn to defend themselves with their weapons rather than with their shields. Shields merely took up appendages and energy that could otherwise be used for that which would be as offensive as it was defensive. A quick glance around the room told me my warriors had absorbed this thinking in their training, as most were armed with at least two blades—one on each hand.
I didn’t need to take anything for myself. When I’d been made Elder, I’d been given a sword so powerful it needed no assistance from standard weapons. The blade was thick and broad, strong enough to hack through a tree like an ax but delicate enough to cleanly slice the meat off a freshly-killed animal. It glowed fuchsia from the magic of the Elderhood. As intently focused as I was on my militia, I had tried to learn as much about my sword as I could, but I’d never been able to find out why it glowed or what its specific powers were. All I knew was that, when I wielded it, I became more accurate, more agile, and deadlier than I’d ever been before.
“Are we ready?” Dane shouted over the clattering of blades.
There was a roar of approval, accompanied by more stomping. Dane’s eyes met mine, and I nodded almost imperceptibly. He grinned and inclined his head, urging me to make the call.
I drew my sword, whipped my head back, and bellowed, “ATTACK!”
Another roar met my ears, and every A’li-uud onboard raced to the exit. The sounds of the footsteps were as loud as thunder and as forceful as a stampede. I could feel the energy of my warriors palpitating in my chest, absorbing into my soul, filling me with purpose. As Elder and Captain, it would not have been disgraceful for me to remain back on the ship while my warriors were dispatched to battle, but that was not my way. I had come on the journey with them because I couldn’t stand by and allow themselves to risk their lives for our race while I had a leisurely rest. It was no different now that the time had come to fight. I joined my men as they flooded from the ship, and I, right along with them, stepped out into the thick earthen sunlight.
Most of the A’li-uud continued sprinting when they disembarked the ship, ready to kill, but I only ran for a few steps before coming to a stop. Lifting a hand to shield my eyes from the glare, I looked around at the surroundings. No other Albaterran ships were in sight, which led me to believe they had dispersed around the globe as planned. The only signs of movement I saw were my own warriors, with the exception of angular limbs on strange trees swaying in the wind. There was an awful smell in the air of filthy mud and rotting carcass, and I wrinkled my nose. This world was as horrific as I’d anticipated.
Dane drew up beside me and also placed a hand on his eyes. “This sun is horrible,” he said casually.
“It is,” I agreed. I was already missing the clear, thin white light of Albaterra’s sun. “So dank and yellow.”
“You should probably stay back with the ship,” he said, twisting at the waist to peer at me through squinted eyes.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?”
“We need someone to stay updated on the status of the rest of the fleet,” he said with a shrug. Rather than responding, I just stared at him until he finally sighed and shook his head. “You are an Elder, brother. You are also the only Elder to take this journey with us. It is critical that you survive this war.”
“Elder or not, I am not one to allow my people to endanger themselves without equal danger to myself,” I replied stiffly.
“Your being here is dangerous enough,” Dane shot back. “What do you think the humans will do to you if they find out you are not just a simple warrior? A quick, painless death would not be your fate.”
“If that is the course of the Grand Circle, that is a fate I must accept.” I surveyed the squat, rocky mountains around us for signs of human activity but found nothing to catch my attention.
Dane sighed again, this time in resignation. “Sometimes, brother, I wonder if you would rather be a warrior than an Elder.”
“You think I am ungrateful for the honor of my role?” I asked rather heatedly.
“No,” he answered with a shake of his head. “I just believe you prefer fighting to ruling. Good luck, Fierce One.”
He took off suddenly at a run, streaking past me so quickly I was unable to say another word to him before he became hazy in the hot air of the strange desert. I watched his back growing smaller and smaller as he stripped off layers of furs, the standard dress of Montemban warriors until he was bare from the waist up.
“Good luck to you, brother,” I murmured to his shrinking figure.
Another waft of odorous wind brushed my cheeks and filled my nose, and I nearly gagged on the putrid stench. The breeze did nothing to quell the invasive heat pouring from the sickly sun, but it gave me an idea I hadn’t considered before. One of my gifts as an Elder was the ability to fly on the wind as a means of travel, which was significantly faster than traveling by foot or on the back of a winged creature. I didn’t know if it was an ability that would work on Earth, but I decided to try. It would certainly help me in battle, and I’d be able to fly ahead and warn my warriors of any potential dangers.
Tilting my face up to the sky, I closed my eyes and let the wind wash over me. Then, I bent at the knees and leapt into the air, and I was instantly flying. Apparently, my gift was not only useful on Albaterra. The ground beneath my feet became nothing but air, and my entire being became nothing but movement. My senses were affected by this mode of travel, allowing me to see only in brief flashes and hear only that which could penetrate the sound of rushing wind in my ears. I saw glances of my warriors, now spread like scattered insects over the desert floor, running as if they were chased by a deadly beast, but everything else seemed to be still and stagnant.
And then I noticed some movement.
I swooped down, breaking through the grip of the wind to direct my body as I desired, and my flickers of sight caught what was clearly a human. She stood in the center of the desert landscape near a large black square with four-wheeled vehicles atop it,
and her gaze was fixed on my ship. I chanced a look behind me to see if any of my warriors were nearing her, and I noticed there were many clearly sprinting in her direction, though neither seemed to have noticed her yet. Making a quick decision, I ducked into a dive.
The cracked dirt of the ground provided a harder landing than I’d expected, and I nearly stumbled as I came to ground. Immediately, the human’s eyes widened, and she hopped backward with fear on her face. Her feet tangled together beneath her and forced her to crumple onto her rear. As she fell, the odd wooden stand in front of her was jostled. It teetered from side to side, and the off-white square on it slid face-down onto the earth. I was riveted by the foreign contraption, watching it rock from one leg to the other, until it finally tipped too far and collapsed on top of the square. I turned my gaze to the human.
She was holding herself up on her hands, and her face was riddled with fear. I had seen Rex’s human, Tabitha, several times, as well as having seen the survivors from the ship that crashed on Albaterra, but this human looked different. She had an air about her that was more casual and less tense, and it showed in the peachy flesh of her cheeks and careless glitter in her eyes. I noticed how deeply brown her irises were, yet they seemed to be full of light despite their dark hue. Her hair was long and whipped around her in the wind, muted golden strands kissing her nose and neck. Even the way she held her torso aloft the ground set her apart from the precious few humans I’d met. Her shoulders were held proudly, and she seemed to ooze an independence I had never felt or seen in Tabitha.
I took a step closer to her, fascinated, but she scrambled away from me on all fours like a scuttling sea creature.
“Oh my God!” she screamed. Her voice, while full of horrified terror, was as sweet and melodic as a song. “Don’t come near me! Stay back!”
She kicked one of her feet forward toward me like a pitiful warning. Her chest was heaving up and down so rapidly I was amazed she was able to muster any breath at all. Beads of moisture were gathering along her hairline, her temples, and her collarbone, and I found myself wondering if it was a form of crying. Rex had told me about humans and crying when droplets fell out of their eyes because they were too emotional. It was not a physical response A’li-uud had, and I’d never seen Tabitha do it, but I wondered now if some humans cried from their skin rather than their eyes.
“Please!” she cried, her voice waning slightly. “Don’t hurt me!”
I tilted my head, took another step forward, and drew my sword.
6
Emily
As silence fell on my aching ears and the ship came to a halt, I realized I had stopped breathing. It was impossible to determine whether I was more frightened or intrigued. I definitely wanted to get a closer look, but I was simply unable to move. My easel stood before me, standing as still as me and long forgotten.
I didn’t know how long I stood there, just staring at the strangely-shaped spacecraft. My mind had gone numb with shock. The only thought I was able to process was that I was staring at an alien vessel which had flown down from the sky and landed in the middle of the Mojave Desert. I was close enough to see many of the details of the structure, but I was also far enough that I probably could have run back to my car and sped off without being caught. That wasn’t an option, though. My feet refused to move, and my legs felt like stiff boards.
Suddenly, I heard an explosion of noise. It wasn’t as loud and debilitating as the sound I’d heard when the ship had descended, but it was certainly more alarming. Loud, barking wails filled the air like war cries. I clapped my hands over my ears again, even though it wasn’t loud enough to cause me discomfort, and stared in horror as a door dropped forward from the ship like a drawbridge on a castle. The next thing I knew, blue-skinned aliens were bursting out of the ship onto the desert floor.
There were too many to count. Most weren’t as blue as I would have imagined. In my mind, they had been the deep, rich color of the ocean or darker. These aliens, however, were so pale they were nearly white. It was only because of the sunlight on their skin that I was able to discern an azure hue marbled in their flesh. All of them appeared to be taller than me, but some were of shorter stature than others. Even from a distance, I could see that their eyes were wide, large, and white. The news had described them as having white irises, but, from where I stood, I could see no difference between the sclera and the iris. It was like they had the opposite of the blank, black eyes of the popular little green men depictions.
Their bodies were much like a human’s; two-armed, two-legged, one-headed. They had no tails or strange growths that I could see. Even their hair colors—black, shock-white, pale gold—were similar to standard human colors. If not for their blue-tinted skin and unearthly eyes, they could have easily passed for humans.
Each alien, who I remembered had been called A’li-uud, held at least one weapon. They raced out of the ship with their arms aloft, blades glinting in the sunlight. Some held swords so long they could have sliced right through a car’s passenger-side window to the driver’s side. Others brandished thick, sharp, double-sided axes. I even saw weapons reminiscent of Earth’s Medieval Age, such as maces. Not one alien looked frightened or nervous. They all were prepared to kill.
I watched them flood out of the ship into the Mojave in droves. They scattered in all directions, some sprinting forward and some rounding to the opposite side of the craft. The air was filled with the sounds of their hair-raising cries. As they ran, they shed furry skins from their bodies until their torsos were completely naked, revealing chiseled abdomens and rippling muscles. In truth, if I hadn’t been so afraid, I would have found them sexy.
For a long moment, I remained in place and just stared. The sight was too unbelievable to grasp. Then, however, with a sickening twist in my stomach, I realized a handful of them were headed right toward me. If I didn’t move, they would encounter me in a matter of minutes, and I would likely become their first assassination.
I turned on the spot, about to race to my car and hopefully get away without being harmed. Before I could take my first step, though, one of the A’li-uud simply materialized in front of me. It was as he’d appeared out of thin air. My eyes widened, and I jumped backward with an odd gurgling sound. I tripped over my own feet clumsily, and then I tumbled backward onto my behind. As I did, my left foot shot outward, connecting with my easel. It nearly tipped over before rocking back onto its other leg, the canvas falling off of it onto the ground.
The alien just stared at the easel as it tottered. He was even taller than I’d expected now that I was seeing him up close, and he seemed even paler in contrast with the tan sand and rock surroundings. He was wearing snow-white furs like the ones the other A’li-uud had stripped off. They draped over his shoulders and chest like a vest, meeting the waistline of his pants but leaving his abdomen uncovered. His stomach muscles were so deep and defined that they actually had shadows.
Finally, the easel tipped over completely, and he turned his eyes on me. They were vividly white, but I was able to make out the iris from this distance. I inhaled sharply as fresh fear streaked through me. He was looking at me like he’d never seen anything like me before—though, I supposed it was possible he hadn’t. Then, he took a step forward.
“Oh my God!” I shrieked, trying to crawl away from him crab-style. “Don’t come near me! Stay back!”
Having no other form of defense, I kicked my foot out at him in the hope of posing a threat. He didn’t seem fazed. If anything, there was almost a shadow of amusement on his inexplicably handsome face. I started hyperventilating, and all ability to make rational decisions went out the window.
“Please!” I pleaded. I could feel a hard lump growing in my throat as tears started gathering in my eyes. “Don’t hurt me!”
His head leaned to the left as though he was considering me carefully. For a split second, I thought he would actually let me go. Then, he took another step forward, and he raised a fuchsia-bladed sword into the air.
A scream unlike any I had ever made in my life burst from my chest, completely drowning out the sounds of the war whoops from the other aliens. It was a high-pitched, crackling scream of desperation. I threw my arms over my face in a pathetic attempt to protect myself. With my hands no longer supporting my upper body, I fell back onto the ground, my head slamming into the dirt. I heard nothing except for my own shriek as I waited for the blade to fall.
It didn’t.
Nearly five seconds passed, and my scream died as my lungs were drained of oxygen. The cries of the whooping A’li-uud met my ears again, but I didn’t hear the sound of a blade swooshing through the air or footsteps approaching me as I expected. Raising my arms slightly to peer out from beneath them, I saw the tall, stern-faced alien staring at me with narrowed eyes. Our gazes met, and I froze.
Something inside of me shifted. As his white orbs penetrated my chocolate ones, I felt an invisible and intangible hand reach right into my chest and squeeze. It was as if my very core was being tugged from my body. My arms dropped involuntarily above my head, clearing my vision to absorb him even more. Every inch of me seemed to be filled by his existence. I no longer cared that I was probably about to die. The only thing that mattered was him.
A thought detonated in my mind which wrenched me from the trance. Was he performing some sort of mind control on me? Had my mother and Terry been right about the tinfoil hats? It certainly felt as though he had become the puppet master and made me his puppet. The very depths of my being were so enchanted by him I couldn’t imagine anything else in the world mattering anymore. If he had gotten into my head, though, it didn’t seem possible that I would be able to wonder about it.
“What are you doing to me?” I asked. My voice was so shaky and breathless that it sounded like I’d just run twenty miles without stopping.
Duke: A Paranormal Scifi Alien Romance: Albaterra Mates Book 2 Page 4
