Seeker's Light

by N. I. Snow

  The ancient lizard's head bobbed, “Indeed. After all I am the keeper of the relics. I find it best if I care for her.”

  The amber-eyed Elder nodded, “I have no argument.”

  “Neither do I, and I'm sure Soforin would agree with our decision had he come along,” replied the female.

  Zaharak bent down and removed the bonds from Emma's wrists. He shoved the girl towards the Elders and the girl nearly stumbled into Lutianist and then fell as Zaharak spoke, “Then take her; I have my payment.”

  Emma glared at the Seeker who had held her prisoner as Lutianist's dulled clawed hands helped her up. Without another word Zaharak turned and walked away, all eyes on him. Stiff-backed and tail hardly moving he melted into the crowed of Tazalian citizens. Abilasso snorted, “Good riddance.”

  The emotionless female Elder turned and marched back through the doorway. Abilasso gave both Lutianist and Emma a cautious look before turning to follow. Only the guards and the cloaked Tigret remained with the grizzled Elder and the human girl.

  Lutianist turned his foggy eyes to Emma as she pulled herself from his hold. His milky white eyes looked over her slender body, examining her ragged clothing and matted hair. “I was right, Zaharak did not give you a change of clothing.” Turning slowly the ancient Tazalian beckoned her to follow him. “Come along, young one. You have a lot of studying to complete.”

  Emma followed after the slow moving Elder, her eyes darting over to the curious guards. She wondered if she could outrun them; but at the sight of a cloaked Seeker, thoughts of escaping melted as quickly as Zaharak moving into the crowd of Tazalians. A chill went down her spine as she walked past a nearly concealed Tazalian. She imagined cold, impassive eyes watching her every movement. Despite her time aboard the Valkyrie, she was still unnerved around the Seekers, especially Zaharak. As Lutianist and the girl entered the doorway, Tigret faded into the shadows behind them.

  The low-roofed tunnel they entered was freezing to Emma. The girl shivered and she wrapped her arms around her chest. The aged Lutianist gave her a sympathetic look. Humans had poor capacity for enduring cold environments, and the vest and short-sleeved shirt she wore clearly provided little warmth. As her eyes adjusted to the dark tunnel, Emma noted faint, light shining from small mushroom-shaped plants. Each plant emitted a different color; red, blue, green, even lilac light painted the stone walls of the tunnel.

  After a long walk through the narrow enclosure, the two came to a stairwell built into the very stone. Despite the darkness Emma could make out each reddish stone step perfectly as they spiraled downward underground. Lutianist allowed the girl to begin the descent first. After she easily started down the stairway, the Elder slowly made his way, one clawed hand pressed against the stone wall for support. Emma glanced back to see if she could find the hidden Tigret; but even in the narrow stairwell the Seeker remained invisible.

  The stairway curved downward for several stories tiring Emma, who had grown used to her inactivity aboard the Valkyrie. After the first five bends, the ancient Lutianist caught up to the exhausted girl. It didn't take long before she had to use the wall for support as well. Her mind foggy from the exertion and stress, hardly picked up the hum of power in the thick air or noticed the soft glowing white light slowly coming into focus. Just as her knees felt ready to give out, her aching feet touched down on the landing of a flat, open tunnel.

  Emma gazed around the tunnel which was large enough to house a Tazalian dropship. Lutianist carefully stepped onto the landing as Emma's awe-filled eyes gazed around the tunnel. Plasma lights ran along the roof, bathing the tunnel in a pale, white light. Roots from above-ground foliage cast odd patterns as they hung from the ceiling, and plants grew in the crevices of the walls, their gray flowers looking dead despite the green stems they sprouted from.

  The faded black-scaled Elder placed a gentle claw on her shoulder, noting how her body stiffened at the touch and guessed Emma had grown accustomed to Zaharak's cruel grip. Carefully Lutianist lead the girl down the tunnel, the hum of energy becoming louder with each of their steps. Hardly a quarter of a kilometer from the stairwell, a large opening appeared before them. As they passed through, Emma's jaw dropped.

  They stood on a stone balcony overlooking an enormous round chasm well beneath the surface of the canyon. Ramp ways carved from the rock connected several balconies to one another. Oval plasma lights in the center of each ramp way provided light for Tazalians, who crossed from one balcony to another. Even with the colossal power generator towering in the center of the opening, Emma felt as though she was at the center of the largest ant hill ever made.

  Lutianist stood beside her, his nearly blind eyes following her gaze, “Beautiful, isn't it?” his calm voice whispered. “Nature and technology working together to sustain life.”

  Emma's voice did nothing to mask her amazement, “Our planet is all but dead from our technology.”

  Lutianist's bearded snout nodded sadly. “Your race is not the only one to have killed their nature, and we are not the only race to have integrated our technology with our planet.” The stooped Tazalian turned towards a ramp way leading upward. “Of course, had it not been for me, our planet would have been no different from your own.”

  Emma followed Lutianist as he made his way slowly up the steep incline, his tail dragging along the ground.

  “Because of Salianos, right?”

  Lutianist clucked his tongue. “You are a clever one. Indeed had I not intervened, Salianos would have moved our cities to the surface and killed off other life forms.”

  Emma’s eyebrows raised as they stepped onto the new balcony, “He listens to you?”

  “I am the only one he takes advice from.” The Elder’s voice became strained as he started down the next ramp way, and he was barely able to keep himself steady as his feet shuffled downward. “Whether due to my ever-growing knowledge, or,” looking up at the girl following behind him, a roguish grin appeared on his snout, “he forgets that I am the youngest of the Elders.”

  Emma paused on the balcony and looked at Lutianist's graying scales and silver hair with skepticism, “You're younger than him, but you…”

  Lutianist raised a four-clawed hand. “There is no need to remind me; the other Elders do that well enough.”

  They continued onward for some time, going up one ramp and down the next until they came to a balcony forty-six meters below where they had started. Lutianist turned into a wide-open tunnel leading from the landing. As they progressed through the tunnel, Emma gazed at the walls. Nearly every inch of the stone had been carved with images of a much younger Lutianist. Each image appeared to depict a different event in the Elder's past. One showed the infant Elder building a strange device out of scrap metal, another showed an adolescent Lutianist wielding two daggers as he fought off a large beetle-looking creature. As Emma's gray eyes took in each image their story sank into her mind.

  At the end of the tunnel was a large, metal door etched with a current image of the grizzled figure of the Elder holding a relic in his claws and a carved image of the sun shining from behind him.

  “The other Elders have their own stories carved in the walls of their tunnels,” Lutianist answered the girl's intrigued expression. “Though I would recommend staying far away from Tarline's. He insisted his favorite tortures be carved in stone.”

  Emma shuddered. “I'll be sure to learn where it is located.”

  Lutianist nodded as he placed a claw on the surface of the tall door. “I will teach you the layout of the city.”

  Lutianist shuffled through the doorway when the massive panels slid open. Once more, Tazal didn't fail to surprise Emma as she entered into the high-domed, oval room. Her eyes roamed from every relic filled shelf that lined the room to the small pillar sitting in the center of the room. Red-and-gold patterned rugs lay across the smooth, stone floor. As Emma gazed around the room, Lutianist crossed to a table at the right.

  Emma's eyes turned to the grizzled Tazalian as he un
folded a red and white dress with embroidered flowers decorating the front. The Elder smiled kindly to her. “I understand you don't really care for dresses, but as you can tell we Elders wear robes. I decided it best if your clothing matched ours.”

  Emma walked over to Lutianist, her gray eyes studying the dress. “How did you know so much about me?”

  Lutianist smiled gently, “I know all about your history, young Emma Sholtal, though I will admit I do not know your life before your adoption. As for how I know,” a sly gleam appeared in his milky eyes, “I have my ways.” The Elder handed the garment to Emma. “Well, don't just stand there like a nophien out of water. Try it on.”

  Emma held the soft silk-like dress in both hands. She gave the ancient Tazalian a bemused look as he gazed over at her. “You mind?”

  Lutianist gave her an odd look before realizing what she meant. He shuffled past her to the doorway, “My apologies, I sometimes forget which creatures enjoy their privacy. After all I have every known culture recorded in my poor skull.” As he walked through the doorway, he called to the shadows, “Come along, Tigret; the young one needs to be alone for a moment.”

  The shadow Tigret appeared from between two relic compartments. “Is it a wise idea to leave her without a guard. She could try to escape.”

  Lutianist waved a claw. “I highly doubt she will. She has nowhere to go, and I'm sure you would have no problem tracking her.”

  Lutianist clucked his tongue as he watched Emma clutch at the long scar on her left arm, “Tigret won't need to use such vile ways of tracking to locate you. Your scent alone is enough to set you apart from the world around you.”

  Emma frowned with indignation. “It's not my fault Zaharak only gave me a rag and a bowl of water to clean myself with.”

  Lutianist paused midway through the doorway, a thought crossing his mind. “Change of plans. Tigret, will you lead our young translator to the bathing chambers?”

  Tigret's voice was as sharp as a dagger tip as she replied, “My orders are to guard you, Elder, not play maid to a human whelp.”

  Emma gave the cloaked Seeker a angry look as Lutianist shuffled towards a cushioned chair beside the table. His voice was weary as he replied, “It will do you no harm to escort her. I would do so myself, but the journey above ground was almost more than my poor bones could handle. I highly doubt Kahluna will appear during your absence.”

  Reluctantly the shadow shifted silently over to Emma. The girl stiffened as a scarred, bronze-scaled arm appeared from the recesses of the cloak. Four sharp black claws extended over the girl's right shoulder. Tigret turned Emma none too gently towards the doorway while Lutianist lowered himself into his chair. Emma managed a last look at the feeble Elder, her arms holding the dress close to her body. She wondered how far his kindness extended. Was it all show in order to comfort her into deciphering the relics? Or was the aging Elder truly benevolent? So far everything else on Tazal was different from what she had come to expect. Why not Lutianist?

  Twelve

  A shadow moved across the hull of the Tazalian dropship, its target lay within the pilot's cabin. Silently it flowed towards the barred doorway keeping a wary eye on its surroundings. Inch by inch, its hidden hands readied the stun rod in its hold. Just as it opened the sliding door, a larger shadow appeared behind it. Before it had time to react a long, blue-green tail whipped out and pulled its feet from beneath its body. Jonah braced himself as he landed painfully on the ground. The hood of the cloak Kahluna had crafted for him fell way from his thick, dark red hair.

  His green eyes glared painfully at the laughing, red eyes of the former Seeker. “I almost had you.”

  Kahluna smiled rows of sharp fangs flashing. “Not even close, young one,” she said reaching down to help the young man up.

  Jonah grabbed hold of Kahluna's clawed hand and with her aid, pulled himself from the ground. “How was I this round?”

  Kahluna shook her head, her green hair rustling quietly, “Still not good enough. Your breathing is still too heavy and you shuffle your feet every now and then. Work with the cloak not against it. When used right it can provide you a more fluid and seamless movement through the darkness. Also we need to work on masking your scent.”

  Jonah gave her an offended look. “I used the bathing facilities just the other night.”

  Kahluna let out a snort like laugh. “That is not what I meant. Humans and Tazalians have far different pheromones. You would be discovered the very moment you stepped foot on Tazal.”

  Jonah let go of Kahluna's hand. “What can we do to fix that?”

  A smile appeared on Kahluna's snout. “I have been working on an oil to cover your skin with. So far it is nearly scentless, though there is still a hint of motor oil in it.”

  “Motor oil?” questioned Jonah.

  Kahluna nodded. “Among other liquids I have found aboard the ship. Rota berry juice, lotar coolant, and veta acid.”

  Jonah backed away from her with mock horror in his eyes, “I get it. You're just trying to burn off my skin.”

  Kahluna walked towards him a menacing look in her humor-filled red eyes. “How else do you expect other Tazalians to be able to deal with your musky scent?”

  Jonah laughed and puffed out his chest defiantly “You’re one to talk, scale face. I have to hold my breath when you're around.”

  Kahluna chuckled and turned to walk towards the aft. “Enough bantering. We have five more months left before we reach Tazal and you still have much to learn.”

  Jonah followed after the former Seeker. “Emma would have arrived there by now, wouldn't she?”

  “She will have,” nodded Kahluna, “and you need not worry about her for now. Lutianist will care for her well,” Kahluna finished as she stepped into the cargo hold.

  “How do you know?” asked Jonah, surprised.

  Kahluna sat down on a bench chair lining the wall, “Lutianist is not like the other Elders.” Her eyes saddened. “He is kind hearted and gentle in nature. It pains me to know that he is trapped within the center of evil and corruption. I even asked him to leave Tazal when I fled.”

  “Why did he stay behind?” Jonah questioned softly at the sight of the downcast Kahluna.

  Kahluna closed her eyes. “His place is on Tazal. His wisdom is what keeps our civilization from collapsing underneath Salianos iron claws.”

  “Speaking of the devil,” Jonah gritted his teeth at the memory of being in the blue Tazalian's hold, “what will happen to Emma if we don't rescue her before his arrival?”

  “Salianos respects Lutianist's wisdom, but even then I doubt that the Elder can protect Emma for long. Should she not be able to decipher the relics fast enough, Salianos will have her handed to Tarline.”

  Jonah's eyes flashed with anger and pulled the hood of his cloak back over his head. “Then let's get to training. I'm not letting anything happen to my little sis.”

  Kahluna smiled softly, hiding the heartache she was feeling. A twinge of uneasiness ran through her blue-green scales as she looked at the cloaked figure of Jonah. She wished she could feel the boy's emotions, but having no family of her own she found it impossible. Besides the Jensolan farmers, Kahluna never knew what it was like to have someone there to help her or wipe away her tears. Seeing Jonah train until his muscles caved in reinforced Kahluna's desire to rescue Emma. She wanted to help preserve what remained of Jonah’s and Emma’s family; maybe then she could know what it was like to belong.

  An odd thought crossed the former Seeker's mind. She could take them to a planet far away from Tazal and there the three of them could live out their lives as a small family. Kahluna shook the idea away. Careful, you may not be a Seeker anymore, but such dreams are for fools.

  “Let's get started.” Kahluna’s mouth twisted into more a grimace than a smile. A deep part of her wished she could believe differently.

  Salianos stared empty-eyed into the inky darkness of his cabin. The normal green glow from the torch had been dimmed, hardly givin
g out any light. His gaunt snout was devoid of any emotions as he tried to review the events the past few months. His thoughts were plagued, though, with the vision of two scale-covered Tazalians, so starved they resembled skeletons. For nearly three hundred years they had not haunted his mind. Was it the discovery of the girl that brought them back? He pushed their images from his mind. Nothing would hold him back when he was so close.

  The High Elder was anxious; that was certain. The human cub could be unlocking secrets about the Gaia at that moment and he was not there to learn them. Then again, Lutianist would tell him all the girl learned. Salianos always respected the Elder of Knowledge. Even during their trials as the first Seekers, the dark-scaled Tazalian's wisdom had never failed Salianos. The High Elder even trusted the old one with his most precious of secrets. Salianos closed his eyes. The skeletal Tazalians were there waiting for him. Why couldn't they leave him alone?

  Despite his trust, the High Elder could swear upon his blue scales that Lutianist knew about his darker secrets. Every time his violet eyes looked into the depths of those murky orbs, he thought he could catch a glimpse of knowing, even resentment.

  Salianos let the thought drop. Careful, High Elder, paranoia will drive one mad. Such thoughts should never be allowed to grasp one’s heart.

  A light tap claimed the High Elder's attention and his sharp, violet eyes focused unwaveringly on the sliding doors as they opened before him. And, the skeletons in his mind fully faded as the bronze-scaled Tarline entered, a fresh, still-bleeding wound on his scarred snout. The wiry Elder stood before Salianos. His stubbed tail flicking the air with impatience. Salianos looked coolly up into Tarline's crisp, emerald eyes and watched as blue blood flowed down to Tarline's thin mouth.

  “You should have that taken care of, brother,” Salianos commented calmly.

  Tarline drew a claw across the open wound. His green eyes examined the blue liquid as it ran along the curve of the sharp talon. Then his brazen voice rang out in the room like a ship’s bell, “It will heal on its own.”