Scorched Souls (Chosen Book 3)

by Jeff Altabef

  I shift my weight and the straps of the duffel bag rub against my shoulder. I forgot about the duffel, too. I grin and swing it onto the cocktail table with a thud. “The Prime Elector gave us back our swords.”

  Blake zips open the bag. “Why did he do that?”

  “Maybe we can trust him?” Troy looks over his shoulder toward Blake. “We need to fly to Arizona. Can we use the company jet again?”

  Blake glances at Barrett, who talks in a reassuring voice. “Yes, certainly we must go to Arizona. We will need to meet this Prime Elector. We cannot defeat him from here, and we certainly wouldn’t want him to obtain the Heart Stone.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “He sounds like a powerful, elite Deltite. If he possesses that red crystal, he’ll become almost all-powerful. We’ll have no chance at defeating him, and the planet will fall under his control.”

  I step toward him, my hands clenched. “So, it’s true. You guys left a bomb on Earth that can destroy the entire planet.”

  Barrett shrugs. “This was not my decision, but yes, a Heart Stone is on Earth.”

  I take another menacing step forward. “Where is it?”

  He rakes his fingers over his short hair and sighs. “I wish I knew, but I have no idea.”

  Akari looks confused. “Why would you guys leave such a thing on Earth unprotected?”

  “My....” He stutters, as if unsure of how much to tell us. “My leaders would never leave a Heart Stone unprotected. They will have devised an intricate trap. If the Prime Elector tries to steal it, it is likely the stone will explode and take the entire planet with it.”

  Juliet

  Aaric’s private jet leaves from the same small airport we used only a few days ago. It’s hard to believe how much has changed in such a short time. Ever since Sicheii started me on this path I’ve been whipped about like a snowflake in a blizzard. I wonder if I’ll ever settle on the ground.

  Aaric sits a row behind me with his eyes closed. He’s not sleeping. He’s holding a crystal in his hand, and the aura around him burns with an intense white light.

  I sense that he’s communicating with someone far away.

  I attempt to settle my mind by playing the What If game. I used to play different versions of the game to chase away my anxiety. Often, I’d play the what’s-the-worst-thing-that-could-possibly-happen version, where I spiral downward to the most horrific end possible. Usually, I’d do this when facing a big test I wasn’t so sure about, or a lacrosse match. Eventually, I’d realize the worst-case scenario wasn’t all that bad, comforted in knowing my life wouldn’t be ruined by a failed test or a bad game.

  For obvious reasons, I don’t play that version anymore. Worst-case scenarios have become terrifying.

  In the other form of the game, I take one action and spin it outward, projecting as far into the future as possible, often revolving around Troy and me. What if he went to the same college as I did, and he realized we should be a couple, and we had our first kiss, and...? Eventually, everything becomes fuzzy as the possibilities multiply and it all becomes silly.

  Now, I realize I’m much better at the What If game than ever before. I take a single event, like Connor and me running to Fiji, and spin an entire life out of it. The problem is that each starting point is based upon so many variables now: what would the Alphians do if we don’t kill Aaric; or what happens if we disarm the bomb; or can I trust Aaric? It’s hard to make sense of all these futures.

  I create one game with a trustworthy Aaric, and feel a blush when I envision us together. Not that I want to be with him—I like Connor—but what if I was with him anyway? The notion seeps into my thoughts without invitation. How would my life evolve? How would his warm skin feel pressed against mine? Can he feel love the way humans do?

  My heart starts to beat fast and my skin turns clammy. The What If game is supposed to relax me, but it’s doing just the opposite.

  I open my eyes and find Aaric settled into the seat next to me, his gaze watching me. “What were you doing?”

  I shift away from him so he doesn’t see my still-flushed face. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

  “Remarkable. Your mental capacity has increased since we took the linking potion together. In just this short time, your brain processes thoughts using more of your gray matter than it did before.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  He smiles but before he says anything, I add, “It’s neither good nor bad. That’s what you’re about to say. It just is.” I look down, failing to hide the worry in my eyes. I don’t like the specter of being an abomination hanging over my head.

  “Do not worry. I am developing a plan.” He looks honest, his face unlined, his eyes clear and unblinking.

  Can he really save me? My voice squeaks just above a whisper. “A plan about me?”

  He nods, and his eyes twinkle. “Of course.”

  He squeezes my hand, and I feel his warmth again. It relaxes me, and I find myself squeezing back, soaking it in.

  Suddenly, I’m aware of how close he’s sitting, so I break eye contact with him and say the first thing that comes to mind. “Who were you communicating with before? I know you were using a crystal to link with someone.”

  He releases my hand. “I was linked with Jared. He has met with the covey at Guernsey.”

  He pauses, so I prompt him. “And....”

  He smiles. “And... it is complicated, but nothing I cannot handle. They will fall in line. I will find the traitors. It will just take time.”

  I see strain in the ends of his lips. He’s not sure he can retain power, but I won’t press him on it. He deserves space to work, to breathe. At some point, though, I’ll need to know everything to fully trust him.

  But that moment isn’t now, so I change the subject. “What is Alpha like? I’ve seen a few glimpses of it. We found a crystal globe that projects certain holographic images when we concentrated on it.”

  A wistful look settles in his eyes. “Beautiful, is it not? I hope you have not been seduced by the narcotic that is Alpha.”

  “Narcotic?”

  His eyes sparkle with mischief. “Alpha is nearly perfect in its beauty. There is no equal in the universe. Over time, Alphians have brought only the loveliest items to the planet: flowers of breathtaking enchantment, animals of unspeakable power and grace.”

  “I saw turtles the size of small islands.”

  He nods. “They were imported from a nearby world.”

  “You make it sound like all that beauty is a bad thing. Why?”

  His voice lilts. “It has become addicting. Alphians want to forsake the rest of the universe to stay on their perfect planet. They have turned their back on the rest of the worlds. They do nothing to prevent suffering on other planets. All they care about is comfort and luxury. Some Deltites even feel that pull. Gagarin, for one, was obsessed with returning to Alpha. These Deltites have confused our mission. They want to take Alpha back, but our true mission has little to do with our home planet. We are meant to benefit the rest of the universe, those who need our help.”

  I think about Earth and all our problems: disease, war, famine, and poverty. Would they help us, or would they take away our freedoms and turn us into something even worse? I realize how little I know about Deltites. How can I decide if they are friend or foe when so much is a mystery?

  “Tell me more about Deltites? How did you become Prime Elector?”

  “That is easy.” His eyes burn a combination of arctic blue and regal lavender. “I drew the short straw.”

  I elbow him in the side. “Be serious.”

  “Each member of the Counsel voted and I was chosen to be most suitable. Our votes are different from yours. We vote by mental acuity. The collective ability of those who selected me outweighed those who did not.”

  I frown. “So, each person doesn’t get one vote.”

  He laughs. “Of course not. Where is the fairness in that? The votes of those with the strongest ability should weigh
most. They are the most apt to make the right choice.”

  He grabs a water bottle from a cooler in the seat next to ours and hands it to me. “Any other questions?”

  My mind spins. I should find out more about their society and their plans for Earth, but my thoughts slip to another topic. I’m acutely aware of my differentness from other humans, so I imagine it must be worse for him. “Are you lonely? Being so far away from home?”

  “Home? I have no home.” He scoffs. “I reject the idea. I will live were I can logically do the most good.”

  It sounds sad to me. I wonder if he means it or if he’s never really had a home, and just doesn’t know what he’s missing. Humans need a home, a place to return to where they feel safe and wanted. “How about love? Do Deltites marry?”

  “Two very different questions.” He smirks. “Deltites couple in a monogamous relationship. We have Arrangers who research bloodlines and genetic matches to arrange the most advantageous pairing. Sometimes we choose among different potential mates, but often one pairing is the most logical.”

  For some reason, I’m holding my breath. “What about love? Isn’t there room for love?”

  “For a short time, courtship for what you call romance is permitted by those who want to partake in the ritual. It is never permanent and only lasts a few years after we reach maturity. Afterward, we submit to the Arranger’s wishes. It is what is best for our people.”

  “My grandfather told me about the Native American Crane Dance. The dance would last for one or two days, giving both men and women a chance to see each other. Once a young man found a woman he liked, he would speak to his mother. She would then talk to the young woman’s mother and, if they agreed, he would sneak into the tent where the young woman was sleeping and present her with a lit candle.

  “If the young woman accepted the proposal, she would blow out the light and the two would be joined. If not, the young man still had a chance to woo her over the next day and try again.”

  Aaric chuckles arrogantly. “Sounds preposterous to me. Where is the logic in that?”

  “It’s not preposterous, it’s romantic—two people finding themselves, the woman blowing out the light.”

  What he described, these Arrangers, is the opposite of romance. It sounds clinical and unfeeling. How could he let some Arranger decide his mate for the rest of his life?

  “Arrangers lead to the best matches. It is more practical.”

  There’s no use arguing with him. He won’t change his mind. Logic and romance seem incompatible in his world.

  “How about you?” I ask. “Has an Arranger selected a mate for you?”

  His smug expression drifts from his face. “We should get some rest before we land.” He stands and retreats to the back of the plane.

  I can’t shake the feeling that he’s torn, even sad. Maybe he’s not as big a slave to logic as he’d like me to believe.

  Juliet

  Sicheii smiles at me. He’s wearing his straw fedora and a canary-colored linen shirt.

  I spin in circle, but the room is dark. “Where are we?”

  “That is a good question.” He glances around with an uncertain look on his face. “It seems that only you know the answer. You summoned me.”

  “How did I do that?”

  He places one of his strong hands on my shoulder and squeezes. He had the strongest hands of anyone I’ve ever known. “The how is not important. The why is what we should concentrate on.”

  Of course, he’d answer my question with a riddle.

  I groan and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. Vague shapes appear. One looks like a lamp, so I find a switch and turn it on.

  The dim bulb casts enough light for me to recognize our surroundings. We’re in Roundtree’s living room. It appears the same as it did the last time we were here: his possessions tossed haphazardly about, furniture splintered, books ripped open, glass shattered, and the paneling in the corner of the room smashed, where we discovered the Book of Wisdom.

  Sicheii frowns. “I never understood why Roundtree cluttered his life with so many possessions.”

  “It probably seemed a lot better before the Deltites destroyed it looking for information about me.”

  Sicheii wrinkles his face as he scans the room. “True, but not a whole lot better. He tied himself too closely to material things, as if these things actually matter.”

  “If I remember correctly, you liked some of the nicer things also.” I tick them off my fingers. “The antique Porsche, the studio apartment, artwork—”

  “Yes, yes, you make a valid point, but my life was never cluttered.” He waves his arms around in obvious disapproval. “Why are we here?”

  “I’m not sure. I need a clue to find the Heart Stone. I had the feeling you knew something about it and suddenly we’re here.”

  “Oh.” Sicheii starts to wander around the room with an air of distaste following him like a tail.

  I block his path. “Do you know where the Heart Stone is hidden?”

  “A Heart Stone, you say?” He shrugs. “How important is it?”

  “Very.” I recognize the coy look on his face and grab his shoulders. “Tell me what you know.”

  He’s unfazed by the urgency in my voice. “What are you going to do when you find it?”

  I release him; as usual he hasn’t answered my question, but asked one of his own. “I’m not sure. Aaric saved my life. I think I can trust him, but who knows if he can hold power against the other Deltites. And I’m sure I don’t like the other Deltites. I... I want you to tell me what to do.”

  He leans down and bumps his head against mine, like he used to do when I was younger and he wanted me to listen to what he was about to say. “Do what’s right.”

  The world shakes and dissolves and I hear the pilot’s voice. “We’ll be landing in a few minutes. We’ve started our descent.”

  Aaric returns to sit next to me. “Do you have any idea where we start looking once we land?”

  My stomach rumbles. “First, I have a craving for a cheeseburger. We need to find a place to eat.”

  He grins. “Me too.”

  “It’s strange, but I was considering becoming a vegetarian. I haven’t had a craving for a burger like this for a long time.”

  “You’ve expended a lot of energy. Protein sources like beef are the best way for you to replenish your supply. Your body is just telling your brain what it needs.”

  “So being a vegetarian is out?”

  He shakes his head. “It is not a good idea. How about our search? Any thoughts?

  I nod. “I know a good place to start.”

  Barrett

  A red-hot blade carves through my temple and pries open my skull. I see stars but refuse to call out in pain. I don’t want the others to notice my distress.

  My father’s image begins to appear before me, the energy hologram shimmering with a bluish light, his features blurred yet unmistakably his, surrounded by blackness as deep as space. The link doesn’t have to hurt, but he likes to inflict pain. He’s reminding me that he holds my life in his hands.

  His image sharpens a touch, and his baritone voice projects in my head. “Where are you on our little project?”

  “I am well, Father. Thanks for asking.”

  A crimson serpent materializes before me with two heads and armor-like scales. The fangs in one of the heads are poisonous and the other simply doles out mind-wrenching pain. It’s impossible to tell which one is deadly.

  I try to grab the snake before it strikes, but it moves too fast and one set of fangs plunges into my arm. The pain knifes up my flesh and explodes throughout my body.

  I wait a heartbeat to see if poison grips me, but all I feel is the searing agony in my arm. I try to keep my thoughts steady, but they crack slightly. “Okay... Father... I just thought you might have been worried about me. I’ve reached the Chosen. They are preparing to confront the Prime Elector.”

  The snake recoils and both heads hover inche
s from my throat.

  My mind dances. I’ve got to keep as close to the truth as possible. He’ll sense any lies if I stray too far from reality. If he finds out that Juliet has already told the Prime Elector about the Heart Stone, he’ll activate it. Humans and all other life on the planet will cease to exist. It will be as if they never existed.

  I’m not sure I can live with that, just yet.

  His thoughts rumble, practically shaking me. “I know you’ve met with the Chosen. I want to know whether they suspect a Heart Stone is on the planet.”

  “How do you know that I met with....” I stop, the answer obvious. He employs spies on the planet. I wonder if he’ll tell them to leave before he incinerates the place, or if he’ll sacrifice them too—just another logical choice for the greater good.

  The snake springs at me. This time it wraps itself around my chest and squeezes, its hard scales compressing my lungs.

  Pain lights along my ribcage and my breathing becomes ragged. I almost bend over from the torture—almost—but I will not give him the satisfaction.

  “I asked you a question, Son. Don’t make me repeat it.”

  The pain helps me focus and adds more conviction to my thoughts. “They don’t know much. They want to take down the Prime Elector.”

  “So the Prime Elector is still blind to my plans.”

  The pain intensifies and my ribs feel as if they might snap. I choose my thoughts carefully. “You are correct as always, Father.” It’s as close to the truth as I can muster.

  The serpent tightens its grip on me again and both heads hiss in front of my face.

  I can’t breathe. Entire galaxies explode inside my mind as I’m running out of air. I begin to worry that he’s discovered my lie, but the serpent abruptly releases me and slithers toward my father, leaving me to gasp for air.

  “Good. Do not waste time, Son. You have a way of dallying when you should not. Lead them to the Prime Elector and their slaughter, and return home to take your test. Rumors swirl that Cassandra will submit to the test soon. You can still be first.”

  He unlinks us and vanishes.