Through the Never

by J. A. Culican

  “Thanks for not telling my sister I warned you about the ambush,” the girl said.

  “Thanks for warning us.” I studied the girl in the fading light of the Auxle Sun. She looked somewhat like her sister, with the same uncommon hair and skin color combination. But that’s where the similarities ended. This girl was petite and wispy, with brilliant blue eyes. I asked, “Why did you warn us, anyway?”

  “Because I don’t believe killing solves anything, especially not when it’s done in revenge.”

  “So you do believe we killed your parents?”

  She looked away and shrugged. “Does it matter? I did it for her, not you.”

  “I’d think it matters quite a lot. Especially since your sister’s in the other room with one of us.”

  Again, the girl shrugged. “I don’t have to worry about her. She can take care of herself.”

  “She told us her name, you know, so you don’t have to keep avoiding it to withhold information from us.”

  The girl startled, confirming this was precisely what she’d been doing, something I couldn’t blame her for. If these rebels didn’t seem to know so much about Dolpheus and me already, it’s what I would’ve done as well. Knowledge is power. It seemed the rebels possessed more knowledge about us than we did about them. I gravely hoped that didn’t translate to power they’d try to use against us.

  But my gut hummed along peaceably. And since I’d been trusting my gut over what I could see with my eyes all of my life, I subdued my instinct to run to my friend and yank him out from that room and away from the rebel, by his dick if I had to.

  Instead, I decided to put my time in this girl’s company to good use. “You know my name already, and my friend’s, so what’s yours?”

  She hesitated, but only briefly. “Lucine.”

  “Kind of like your sister’s then.”

  “What?”

  “Duleene. Lucine. They rhyme.”

  “Oh aye. I guess so. Our brothers’ names are like that too.” But she didn’t elaborate.

  I didn’t push. I nudged in another direction. “So what Duleene can do is pretty amazing, huh?”

  She looked at me then, her gaze reserved, much like that of a little sister tired of moving in her sister’s shadow. “What do you mean? Duleene isn’t all that amazing.”

  “She can ride a mowab. That’s amazing. And unheard of.”

  “Not really,” she said too quickly. “I’m learning to ride one too.”

  “Really?” I said, cautious not to spook her. “You can ride a mowab?”

  “I’m getting there.”

  “Mowabs are the fiercest creatures I’ve ever seen. They’ve come close to killing Dolpheus and me many times.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Completely.”

  “Wow, and you guys are the best of O’s warriors.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Maybe not. We train hard to fight the way we do.”

  “I train hard too.”

  “I imagine you do. Learning to ride a mowab is an incredible feat.”

  “Aye, it is. We’re hoping to train a whole army of us rebels to do it.”

  The girl pressed her lips together. She’d said more than she meant to.

  “Look,” I said, “I realize you don’t really know us. But I swear to you we will never purposefully cause you or any of the other rebels harm. We left the King’s army because we hated what he did with it.”

  “You did?” The girl’s eyes were so guileless, I wanted desperately never to be on the opposing side of these people again.

  “Yes, and I swear to you that I’ll never repeat any of what you’ve said to anyone that could in any way cause you harm.”

  “Who might you tell?” she asked, clearly wanting to share whatever they’d been up to.

  “Dolpheus, the man in there with your sister. But he’s much like me. We never want to harm.”

  “But you can cause harm.”

  “Yes, we can. That’s why we’ve tried to put ourselves in a situation where we can choose whom we align ourselves with, and whom we fight against.”

  “Will you fight with us?” the girl said, her voice painfully hopeful.

  “Do you need us to?” It was a stupid question. These people had been defending themselves against the Andaron Dynasty since it ousted the Harals that ruled the planet before them. The only reason the rebels still survived was because they lived in a harsh, desolate area that provided them security it denied outsiders. They fought intelligently, striking unexpectedly and quickly. The rebels moved faster and harder than the armies of outsiders.

  “If you were to fight with us, it’d be so great. You’re each the equal of a hundred men.” She blushed. “At least that’s what the legends say. My sister is preparing us so that next time the King invades, we’ll be ready.”

  “And she’s doing that by training you to ride mowabs?”

  “Yes.”

  “And who is your sister exactly? Beyond being Duleene, who is she to your people?”

  “She’s queen of all the rebel clans. United under her leadership, and with the land’s animals helping us, the people of the Wilds will rise against the King and his oppression so that he’ll leave us to live in peace once and for all.”

  My expression resolved itself into firm lines. The rebels might have a chance this way. But they might also die in vast numbers. And if they rose against the King like this, he wouldn’t stop until he exterminated them all. Until now, the King had considered the rebels a nuisance. They were planning to make themselves an enemy.

  “Will you align yourselves with us?” the girl persisted.

  I was pretty sure Dolpheus was already doing a good job of aligning himself with the woman who turned out to be the queen of the rebels. From the sound of things, the aligning was a success.

  Dolpheus was currently loving the queen of the rebel clans, but I loved the princess and future queen of the Andaron Dynasty.

  The two women were alike. I knew my Ilara to be contrary in her beliefs to her father. If I could find my princess alive, perhaps there was a way to bring peace between the Andaron Dynasty and the rebel clans. Ilara wouldn’t have the need to rule an entire planet like her father and his ancestors did. She’d be content to allow the rebels to lead their own lives in seclusion in the unwanted wastelands of the Wilds.

  The girl asked again, “Will you align yourselves with Queen Duleene, queen of the united rebel clans, Mowab Rider and Righter of Wrongs?”

  It was a heavy, loaded question, for which I only had one answer. “Maybe.”

  If I could find my princess. And if Queen Duleene was truly to be trusted to want no more than the freedom of her rebel clan. Then maybe.

  But I knew only of hopes and dreams as the Auxle Sun finally dipped beneath the horizon. The clear desert sky exploded in a mask of brilliance that made my gut sing with those very same hopes and dreams. Yes, perhaps. Perhaps we’d find Ilara and align two queens more capable of fair rule than all the men that preceded them.

  I turned to the girl, who promised to become as fierce as her sister in time. In the pinks, reds, and oranges of the sky that whispered of faithum, which existed whether I understood it or not, whether I believed in it or not, her face glowed with resolve.

  I wished that Dolpheus and I would be on the right side of things for once. “Maybe,” I said again and grinned.

  The girl smiled back. Whatever tenuous and uncertain alliance we were forming, we were doing so on the waves of the faithum of life. Ilara was within my reach and so was my chance at becoming a good man.

  There was no such thing as the impossible.

  * * *

  The End

  Continue Tanus and Dolpheus’ adventures in Planet Origins.

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  About the Author

  http://luciaashta.com/

  Lucía Ashta, a former
attorney and architect, is an Argentinian-American author who lives in Sedona with her beloved and three daughters. She published her first story (about an unusual Cockatoo) at the age of eight, and she’s been at it ever since.

  She writes a variety of speculative fiction, especially fantasy, and is the author of The Witching World, Planet Origins, and The Light Warriors series.

  Paint the Night

  Sarah K. L. Wilson

  Paint the Night © copyright 2017 Sarah K. L. Wilson

  * * *

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Created with Vellum

  About Paint the Night

  What lengths would you go for someone you love?

  When Amandera Mubaru set off to marry the High Tazmin of Canderabai, she never expected to fall in love along the way. But when the magnetism of her travelling companion becomes too powerful, she must decide where her future lies and how to achieve it. Will she dare to gamble with her future?

  Paint the Night

  “You marry him the day after you arrive, but the journey takes two weeks. You know all this, why are you asking me again?”

  My grandmother sounded irritated, but her eyes were misty as she pretended to rearrange how my sarette fit. I glanced around the palm oasis, the last village on the edge of our tiny jewel of a kingdom.

  “They’ll be safe here, grandmother. Safe to live at peace for another generation.” It was why I was marrying, after all, to keep my kingdom from being gobbled up by the Empire of Canderabai. To keep my family safe. Although, it wasn’t like they’d given me a choice.

  “Stop looking so upset. Girls marry older men all the time. They marry for political reasons. They move far away. What did you think would happen here?”

  I hadn’t thought it would happen so quickly. The Lesser Tazmin Farida came during the Feast of Lights and when he met me he smiled. Two weeks after he left, a messenger came with a demand: turn over the princess Amandera as a tribute bride to the High Tazmin of Canderabai. My mother packed up all the finery we had and after a lengthy explanation of everything I needed to do to prepare, she sent me off to Vastette on the edge of the Empire. Now, here I was, waiting for the elephants of Canderabai to come and bear me away.

  “They didn’t even spare me a retinue. Not a guard. Not a maid. If you weren’t dead you wouldn’t be here,” I said, toying with the glowing red stone that hung on my forehead. If it wasn’t for my connection to the Common and my ability to enter the meditation world, I wouldn’t be talking to my ancestor. I would be standing alone in an oasis with only my elephant and my baggage to keep me company. Wouldn’t that be nice, freedom from the constant judgment of a dead woman.

  “Stop whining. Hold your chin high. You’ll be a High Tazminera of Canderabai in two weeks and the one thing you must never compromise is your dignity. Remember, you are more than where you came from and more than the circumstances you were forced into. I have big expectations for you, Amandera.”

  That’s what she always said – big expectations – like I was a horse in a race. Wait … was that a dust cloud I saw in the distance? Yes. My future was on the way.

  I smoothed my fine garments. I wore red to make an impression, my eyes lined in kohl, my heartstone glowing bright on my forehead and my hair smoothed perfectly. I stood straight and tall, my shoulders back and my chin tilted at the correct angle. I was going to marry their ruler. They needed to respect me from the moment they met me.

  I saw him first, his head and shoulders emerging from the dust cloud like a thunderhead in a clear sky. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He was huge, at least a head taller than the others and riding an elephant as black as he was. His heartstone – the only familiar looking thing about him – was not familiar at all. It flashed and crackled like a tiny thunderstorm raged inside it, and with every crackle the expression on his face seemed to change. One moment he seemed kind, the next harsh, the next sorrowful. Along his bare arms, golden tattoos swirled.

  He had companions, but I didn’t see them. My eyes were drawn to their leader, unable to look away. Could it be possible- but, no. Of course, my future husband wouldn’t come to claim me on his own. He would send someone … wouldn’t he?

  I coaxed Rantoom, my own elephant, to kneel and then I climbed up into the high saddle on his back. Whoever this man was, he needed to see that I was no rural princess to be pushed around. I was Amandera Mubaru of the Kingdom of Aradivia and I would not be made to feel small by the grand people of Canderabai.

  He pulled his elephant up to where I was stationed on Rantoom and crossed his arms over his chest. Another man rode on the elephant behind him – old and grizzled and with the close-cut hair and careful precision of dress that suggested he was a military man. Was he a body guard?

  “I am Lesser Tazmin Catane Nyota,” the tattooed man said. “Son of the stars, thirteenth son of the High Tazmin and I have come to transport you to our capitol city, Azaradi.”

  As if I didn’t know the name of their capitol! Did he think I was a simpleton?

  “What sort of magic do you use? I’ve never seen a heartstone flash like lightning,” I asked.

  “You’ve never seen anyone like me before.” His face was deadly serious. There was no joking or self-deprecation in the bravado.

  I allowed myself a tiny smile. I liked men who knew their own worth.

  “I’ve seen more things than you might expect.” If he thought he could out maneuver me with words, he’d need to think again.

  “Just try to keep up. I’m not your nursemaid.” He spat in the dust and turned his elephant around.

  I gritted my teeth together. So much for making him respect me. If I couldn’t win the respect of one of the High Tazmin’s sons, what chance would I have with the High Tazmin?

  We rode all day through the narrow ravines of the Canderabai wilderness and I felt a heaviness grow in my belly with each passing mile. The lush oases of Aradivia ebbed and were swallowed by the spiny, harsh vegetation of Canderabai. Our grim leader was one with the landscape. Where it was hard, he was granite. Where it was inhospitable, he was dismissive.

  “I hope his father isn’t much like him,” I griped to my ancestor, Drusica.

  Catane chose a rocky hillside beside a stream for our camp. I tended to Rantoom and set up my small silk tent as quickly as I could so that I could spend some time alone. Why didn’t other people find so much time with people exhausting? You always had to pretend to be something you weren’t.

  “Focus on weaving the Common, child,” Drusica said. My body was sitting on my bedroll on the ground in a lotus position, but my spirit was in the meditation world with Drusica.

  I turned my attention back to the massive shield of air I was weaving, but I still had more to say. “The High Tazmin must be very old to have thirteen sons. And this Catane is as old as I am.”

  “You knew he was old. Concentrate on the weaving.”

  Deftly, I pulled on the thread I’d created and the shield fell into place as seamlessly as a blue sky in summer.

  “Why do I need to keep practicing, ancestor. He won’t love me for my magical strength.”

  I turned to the next exercise of our daily practice, weaving painful flecks of fire that w
ould send an enemy to the ground writhing in pain. I was so used to weaving them, that I had to be careful not to accidentally set them loose on every person who annoyed me. Maybe I should let that iron self-control down a bit and show Catane how much fire I could put into something. Then he’d see something he’d never seen before.

  “He may not love you at all, but he will certainly value your strength. A good consort to an Emperor has value beyond her attraction. We will make you so useful that he cannot deny you the power you deserve.”

  “I-”

  My words were cut off by a ripping sound, the boom of thunder and the smell of burning silk. I was ripped out of the meditation world and into the real world so suddenly that my head spun. It was not the only part of me spinning, I was barrel-rolling across the ground, wincing and grunting with every bump and bruise.

  My momentum stopped as I crashed into a thorn bush. I pulled myself back to my feet, spinning to see what had happened. My tent was in fiery shreds. Behind it, Catane stood, lightning streaking from his hands. I flung my hands up and wove a shield from the Common and thrust it between us. Was he trying to kill me? He should realize that I was capable of defending myself.

  His lightnings crackled and vanished. Around us, cries and startled exclamations were still sounding from around the camp. The elephants bugled from where they were picketed and grooms rushed to calm them. Catane strode towards me, the campfires and moonlight glinting off his golden tattoos. Behind him, the older military man strode, muttering and scowling.

  Catane wore no shirt, and the right half of his chest was closely detailed with the strange tattoos. How did you even get a gold tattoo?