Four Worlds

by Maureen A. Miller

  Sema’s eyes glowed.

  “Solont,” Gordy called down. “You don’t have to come with us. If we make it to Aulo, we can return for you. At least you are safe here on land. There are plants and animals to sustain you.”

  “What if the Solthum people come looking for me?”

  Sema lifted a hand into her hair, pulling it back from her face. In profile, there were worry lines around her eyes.

  “I have a confession.”

  Resting his hip against the balustrade, Gordy crossed his arms, curious to hear what she had to say.

  “This boat–this is all mine–invented from what I read, and just–just–” she glanced around, “sheer practicality.”

  He nodded, encouraging her to go on.

  “But, it is not the first vessel to be created by a Solthumian.”

  “You won’t be the first to travel these waters–well, besides the Lowlanders back during the epidemic?”

  “Correct. I understand the Lowlanders were very savvy–both technologically and scientifically. They had crafts to fly across the ocean when they made their exodus. My ancestors found a few of those, but could not get them off the ground. Instead, they improvised and tweaked them into floating facsimiles.” She searched the sea. “I can’t assure that they made it, but a party was sent to Aulo to–to–”

  “To what?” Gordy suddenly stood at attention.

  “I’m not sure what they were going to do. My father didn’t share that with me, which worries me.”

  “And me,” he uttered. “How fast do you think that wind can move us?”

  “Only one way to find out.” She leaned over the edge and looked down at Solont. “My people left from a different shore. They did not come this way because it required passing through the chasm. You should be safe here.”

  Solont squinted up. “I’ve survived everything that has been thrown at me. What’s one more challenge?” He examined the boat and winced. “So–how do we get it in the water?”

  Sema smiled, seemingly grateful for their confidence. “There are some logs over there. We’ll need to roll it. It’s downhill, so it shouldn’t be so bad.” She dipped and opened another panel, drawing out several hand-carved bins. “But first we need to gather some berries and fresh water from the stream we just passed.”

  “I’ll put the logs into position,” Gordy offered.

  “I’ll help you with the water and berries,” Solont affirmed.

  Sema glanced down at the blood stain across Gordy’s thigh. “I’ll get the paste for that. The healing plant is just over there.” She pointed to a group of white-tipped ferns.

  It was a mere scratch–a scratch that had already started scabbing. But, if she wanted to put paste on it, who was he to stop her?

  ***

  Gordy tented his hand over his eyes as he gazed at the sun. It filled the horizon, searing the water where it coursed a golden score–a shimmering path to their destination.

  “A little bit more,” he urged Sema to move the lever to the rudder.

  The soiled sail billowed in the wind. That force of nature hurled them across the water. Gordy marveled at the crude but effective transportation. So far there had been no signs of leakage, and they had been at sea for two sunsets. If there was to be one discomfort, it was the exposure to the elements. The days were warm–the sun overbearing. Already, his skin was taking on a bronzed hue to match Sema’s. The color looked good on Solont’s face. Despite their lack of bearings, his outlook had remained positive, and even with the food being rationed, he thrived on the sustenance.

  Night was a different story, though. As soon as the sun set, the breeze took on a sinister sting. Icy fingers wrapped around them, not releasing their clutch until morning.

  As the sun eventually set, Solont reached into a bin beneath the deck to retrieve one of the furs Sema had stored there. He sat in the corner with the blanket wrapped about him and whispered, “Tomorrow. I know we will reach Aulo tomorrow.”

  The redundancy of Solont’s comment went disregarded. Gordy liked to believe Solont’s prophecy.

  Crouching beside him, Sema reached for two of the blankets and handed him one. He smiled his gratitude. There was enough room for them to all sit alone, but they gravitated to the bow of the ship, the region most protected against the wind. Shoulder to shoulder they settled, listening to the groan of wood, lulled to sleep by the ebb and flow.

  At some point the nudge of a wave jostled Sema’s prone form, bobbing her head until it settled on Gordy’s shoulder. He sat still, expecting for her to jerk awake and withdraw. Instead, she slept on, curling into his heat. For a moment he smiled, but then he closed his eyes and circled his arm around her to contain her from the pitch of the boat.

  Other than in a work capacity, he had never had time to engage in relationships with females. Every time he sought a break from the rigors of Warrior duties, there was always another task–another mission. And when he did have an opportunity to try and engage a female, it was hard to speak about mundane subjects. There was nothing mundane in his life.

  Feeling the warm body against his made him rethink his efforts. It wasn’t just the feminine curves, or the soft breath against his neck–it was the trust. Only a few days ago she thought he was the enemy. Now, she rested her head against his collarbone, and he was certain she had some cognizance about her, even if she was half asleep.

  One thing was certain about Sema…there was nothing mundane in her life either.

  ***

  “Gordeelum!”

  Gordy tugged on the fur blanket, wondering why it no longer produced heat. His palm flapped across the wood until the absence of the body he sought brought him to consciousness.

  “What?” he lurched to a standing position, fighting a bout of nausea at the motion.

  “Look!” Sema pointed excitedly.

  The sun was rising on the water, a vivid dome of gold scored by a dark string of clouds. Beneath the clouds another shadow eclipsed the bright orb. It was jagged in shape and seemed to run the length of the horizon.

  “It’s Aulo,” she cried.

  “Are you sure?”

  “It’s Aulo.” Solont rose to join them at the helm. “That is the sight I witnessed as the Solthumians took me away.”

  Gordy stared at him in surprise. “I didn’t realize they kidnapped people right from Aulo’s shores. I thought you had found your own way over to the mainland.”

  “Nope.” Solont shook his head, staring at the horizon. “There’s more of them over there–” he nodded at the vista, “–than you would think.”

  That was a sobering notion. Not so much for what the challenges they were about to face, but rather for what they might find. Gordy feared for the citizens of Aulo. The Anthumians were a peaceful society. How many had been abducted–or worse? And what of Zak and Aimee? And Raja and Craig? What of Vodu himself? Would the Solthumians go after him first to make a statement?

  Gordy glanced up at the sail, urging the wind to swell it into action. In deep space, and even against the resistance of an atmosphere, he could control speed–manipulate it–demand it. On this water, he was powerless.

  Helpless, he stood beside Sema and watched the spiky coastline slowly draw closer.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Another cramp. Another dagger to her abdomen–this one greater than all the previous. The muscles in her back knotted to the point she thought they might snap. Aimee hoisted herself off the wall and stumbled a few steps in the direction she had come from–to the location she had last seen Zak. She called out his name, but each cry was frayed by pain.

  She glanced back over her shoulder to see if Salvan had second thoughts and returned. No such luck. Rubbing her belly methodically, she cooed, “Easy, Zon. Just hang in there a little longer.”

  Empty words. What was a little more time going to buy her? She was stranded. Literally. A landslide cut off the path to the east, and the path to the west was literally severed. Tipping her head back she searched the
crater wall for any means to climb it. It was sheared flat, with not even the slightest of footholds. Leaning over to search beneath her, any attempts to jump to the roof of the hangar would result in death. She was literally stuck.

  Rather than wallow, Aimee analyzed the flow of the landslide that had split her and Zak. She took a deep breath and called out his name again. This time it was between stabbing pains and she was able to holler successfully. The only response was the keening whistle of the wind trapped inside the basin. It stirred up the red dust, making her cough.

  Taking a shaky step back towards the gap in the walkway, Aimee doubled over. The pain was so intense that she sank to her knees, huddling against the crater wall with her arms wrapped around her legs as she pitched back and forth. Whether it was a few minutes, or an hour, she could not tell, but she swore she heard her name.

  On a soft moan, she struggled to her feet again, and inched closer towards the gap.

  “Aimee!”

  It was a distant cry–muffled, most likely the acoustics of her desperate imagination. In fact, it was desperate enough to conjure up Zak’s voice.

  “Aimee!”

  This time it grew more distinct–more emphatic–and more like her husband.

  “Zak!” she cried, halting at the gap, watching as her toes launched a shower of loose pebbles down into the crevasse.

  In school, she had excelled at the long jump. Dressed in a gauzy gown, with debilitating labor pains, she doubted that childhood agility would be an asset. She gauged the five-foot space, knowing that if she missed the leap she faced certain death.

  “Aimee!”

  “Zak!” she shouted.

  And then he was there in all his dark attire–ever the contrast to his surroundings. He was there in all his might, with his chest expanding, drawing attention to the power within. He was there in all his vigilance, with amber eyes locking on her and then scanning the situation, only to solemnly reconnect with her gaze.

  “Aimee,” he murmured with tenderness and desperation.

  “Zak, how–how did you get here? You were behind me–trapped behind the landslide.”

  He stared desolately down into the abyss that separated them.

  “Corkos heard the tremors. He found me and showed me a utility exit through the hangar. Lots of stairs. It’s why he took us this way originally.”

  Zak saw her hand clasping her abdomen.

  “Oh, Zer-shay,” he murmured. “We have to get you to the Bio Ward. Now.”

  Aimee slumped against the rock wall. “How?” she asked, forlorn. “Someone sent another boulder careening down the crater–” she flailed her hand in front of her, “–and you see what damage it did. I can’t jump over this.”

  “I’m just grateful you didn’t try. I know you.”

  Aimee wrinkled her nose at him, and then smiled sadly. “I am cut off the other way too. What are we going to do, Zak?”

  Dark eyebrows descended, his focus on the gap. He turned and looked back over his shoulder, beckoning someone waiting inside the tunnel.

  Aimee gasped when Salvan emerged carrying a plank, a piece she recognized as one of the long lab tables Corkos had used for storage.

  “Salvan,” she exclaimed. “But–”

  “We ran into each other at the base of the crater,” Zak explained. “He told me where you were.”

  Aimee stared across the gap at the cold pale eyes.

  “Why?” she whispered. “Why would you help me, when you just left me here?”

  Salvan shrugged. “Maybe I recognized that you were stuck, and the only alternative was to get help. Maybe you just assumed I abandoned you.”

  “Oh, no, no, no,” she prepared to scold. She wasn’t ready to accept a benevolent Salvan.

  “Enough,” Zak ordered. “We can debate Salvan’s intentions later.”

  He grabbed the end of the plate, nodding to Salvan to inch closer to the edge. Together they stood the long panel upright.

  “Step back, Aimee,” Zak instructed solemnly.

  Aimee complied, feeling the pain kick in again. Sweat nestled down her spine. She appreciated the quick pulse of air as the plate fell and slapped onto her side of the walkway. The length exceeded the size of the gap by several feet on each side. It was the width that gave her pause. No wider than her shoulders, it was passable, but left little margin for error.

  Before she could even wrap her mind around the task at hand, Zak was crossing the plank, his arms extended slightly for balance.

  “What are you doing?” she cried as he leapt onto her side of the footpath and wrapped her in his arms.

  “Hugging you?”

  “No.” She pushed back against his shoulders. “What are you doing coming over to this side? You were safe over there.”

  “And you weren’t,” he declared in a sober tone.

  Aimee knew better than to argue with that voice. Her Warrior would risk anything to keep her safe. Rubbing her tummy, she unconsciously circled the tiny scar that remained from Ziratak. She knew how much that scar troubled him.

  “Well, then,” she said, “let’s get going because your son is pretty emphatic about getting out.”

  Although she kept her tone light, she could see the concern in Zak’s eyes. He reached up and swept some of her hair off her perspired cheek. His palm cupped there, feeling the heat.

  “The board is wide enough as long as you don’t look down,” he cautioned.

  Aimee glanced at it edgily. “I’ll be fine,” she assured.

  “If you have pain–you might double over–you might lose your balance.” He wrapped his hand over her hip. “We’re doing this together.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me you’re going to carry me.”

  Zak grinned in spite of the situation. “You squirm too much. That’ll surely send us both over the edge.”

  “What about him?” she whispered, nudging her chin in Salvan’s direction.

  Salvan sneered, or was that just his permanent expression?

  “He sought me out. He told where to find you. He didn’t have to do that.” Zak frowned at Salvan, and murmured. “That said, you never know what his motivations are, so it’s you and me for getting out of here.”

  “Just how I like it.” A cramp had her clasping her knees and breathing hard. “Give me a minute, though.”

  “Aimee, if you can’t do this, I’ll go find more people to help.”

  Sensing the urgency of the pain, she stuttered, “We d–don’t have that much time.”

  Zak wrapped his hand around her abdomen. “I love you,” he said, breathing into her hair. “You’re going to go first. You’re not going to look down. I will be behind you and have a hold of you the whole way. We’ll go as soon as you think you can.”

  Aimee gulped in a deep breath and tried to steady the pulsing ache. She stood up straight, seeing Salvan looking disinterested across the way.

  “I’m ready,” she declared hoarsely. She cleared her throat, and repeated louder, “I’m definitely ready.”

  Zak’s hands traveled, dusting lightly below her arms, ready to grab on. Aimee stepped up to the plank, testing it out on the end that sat over the walkway. There was plenty of leeway. It was the shock of walking over the gap that played tricks with the mind. On Ziratak, Zak had obstructed her sight so that she couldn’t see the great drop off the side of the mountain. Here, nothing concealed the gaping abyss. The crater wall had a slight arc at its base. If she were to fall it would be like going on one of those death-defying water slides at an amusement park–only there was no water at the bottom.

  Aimee took her first step, cursing the flowing white gown she wore. Where were her jeans? They would come in handy right about now. Instead, the gauzy material flitted between her legs, threatening her stability. She fisted the material in her hands and hiked it up to her knees.

  Ahead remained five precarious feet to travel. Literally, just a few strides. Piece of cake. She was on her second step when a cramp kicked in. She cried out and
Zak’s hands tightened beneath her arms. Aware of him so close behind stabilized her. Forcing the pain aside, she rushed the next few steps, surprised to find Salvan’s hand stretched out to catch her. She grabbed it because she needed the balance, but as soon as she was on solid ground she yanked it back so that her palm could wrap around her stomach again.

  “Thank you,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze.

  Zak wasted no time. He stooped over, hooking his arm under her legs and hauling her up to his chest.

  “Don’t squirm,” he instructed with a tight smile.

  With Salvan leading the way, they traveled through the tunnel, emerging from the mountainside under a crown of trees. The ocean breeze clashed with the sweat dotting her forehead. She hated exhibiting weakness in any respect, but she was starting to whimper against Zak’s shoulder.

  “Almost there, Zer-shay,” he whispered, his arms wrapping firmly about her.

  Salvan jogged past them without looking back. He reappeared a few minutes later, pointing at them as Raja and Craig’s concerned faces floated before her.

  That was the last Aimee saw. She surrendered to the pain, letting it whisk her away–back to the pond–its surface covered in algae–back to the sound of Ziggy, panting at her side–back to the woods, and the dark lair that she now disappeared into.

  ***

  Crying.

  No, not crying.

  Wailing.

  All out, heart-pouring-out-of-your-lungs, wailing.

  Aimee frowned, not ready to open her eyes yet, but the sound was making it impossible to go back to sleep.

  Someone help the poor soul.

  Such misery, she thought. Surely, someone would come to their aid.

  “Aimee.”

  Aimee jerked at the soft invasion. It was a deep timbre–a total contrast to the agitated cry nearby.

  “Aimee, open your eyes.”

  She wanted to obey this command. This voice was ethereal. It lured her enough to manage a slit between her eyelids.

  A face appeared before her, but her eyelashes made the visage fuzzy.

  “All the way, Zer-shay.”

  She knew that voice!