Wrax

by Starr Huntress

  “Send Ambassador Fellopian to meet me here in a hovercab,” I tell the AI, standing outside the arena with my hands on my hips, and a certainty lingering in my gut that I have never felt before. Ever. “He’s going to take me to meet Paxia. The goddess and I have some things we need to discuss.”

  We zoom faster than I have ever known a hovercab to go before. I don’t even know where we are going. But, I remind myself, of course I don’t. I have never gone underground to try to chat with a tree before.

  “So, Paxia is the planet,” I say, but Fello isn’t quite listening. He is looking out of the window, silently willing the hovercab to move faster, drumming his fingers on the leather. “And she is also the Tree of Varrasque?”

  “If the planet is her body, the Tree is her heart,” Fello explains, “although of course it’s much more complicated than that. Paxia can communicate with her Catalyst anywhere on the planet, but it’s the strongest there, at the tree. You’ll have no hope of hearing her voice for the first time anywhere else.”

  I nod slowly. I have no idea if this is all a joke, or a hoax, or what. I don’t know if these aliens truly can talk to their goddess. I do think that it’s a very nice idea to worship the planet they live on — it means that they treat it with respect — but do they literally think that it can open its mouth and speak back to them? I don’t understand.

  I’ve got no clue if telepathy, or whatever it is, can actually really exist somewhere in this universe. And if it’s something else that’s going on, will I find out or will I just be lost? Floating in space without a mate.

  I have put all my eggs in this basket. From what Wrax confided in me, I don’t see that anyone can help him out of this pinch. Nobody seems to be particularly higher up than him in terms of the hierarchy. And if they were higher up than them, and they disagreed with him on a fundamental issue, he could challenge them to an arena fight to decide.

  Since he’s the strongest warrior on the planet, he can’t be disagreed with. I wonder if he uses his powers for good. From the happy atmosphere I can sense on this planet, I have to assume that he does.

  With nobody above Wrax here, there is nobody that can help me get him out of his death match. I can’t stand the thought of losing him and it’s only been a day. How will I feel about it when it happens in a couple of weeks, or months? I can’t stand to think about it.

  That’s why I’m going to talk to Paxia about it. This is my last hope. I am pinning everything on the fact that an ancient unproven myth is true.

  This is truly something of a low point for me.

  But it is also the first time I have ever felt something tug strongly in my gut … and then followed it. Outside the cab flap a couple of those beautiful multicolored tousorin and I can’t help but smile.

  “Are you alright?” Fello asks, as we start to alight in a nearby grove.

  “Yes,” I answer. “I am.”

  Above the grove is a beautiful sight — a home set into a hill with twisting, winding trees covering the surface and framing big windows. Bright flowers are scattered across the face and roof of the house. I wonder if anyone lives there. “What’s that?” I ask.

  “That is the Palace of Varrasque,” Fello says, sounding surprised that I didn’t already know that. “Traditionally the King of Paxia lives there so that his lifemate, the Catalyst, lives right next to the Tree.”

  The hovercab descends past the canopies and then, to my surprise, it keeps going. There was a chasm in the grove that I hadn’t even noticed. Down we continue to go, until it is pitch black. And then it becomes light again. Artificial light; a blue glow. Fello exits the cab and sweeps around to let me out.

  “I’m so glad you have decided to do this,” he says. “And … I thank you for not involving my colleague, Kivak.”

  I frown at these words as I hop out into the most bizarre setting I have ever stood in. All around me, covering the cavern walls, are bright blue mushrooms, pulsing and emitting their own light sources. Flowers with puckered red openings open and shut like blinking eyes, and in the center of the cavern stands a gnarled gray tree that looks like it’s made of cement.

  Only a couple of brown leaves scatter across its twisting branches. I get closer and realize quickly that I was not awed enough the first time. The Tree of Varrasque is as big as a small skyscraper.

  “Why?” I ask, jolting myself out of my reverie. “Why couldn’t Kivak know that I was doing this?”

  Fello sighs. “There are some that do not believe in the Firosan ways. Not to say that they are glad to see the back of them, but people like Kivak are very proud of their Mahdfel culture. The Mahdfel culture leans more towards … arena fights, bazaars, warriors and warlords. The snap and clash of two trained blades to settle any argument. It was the Firosans who were followers of Paxia.”

  “Not only Firosans, though?” I ask, sensing that he isn’t telling the whole story.

  “No, many of us consider ourselves Firosans. Or at least Firosan Mahdfel. I think that two things that differ greatly can only ever come together to create something stronger.” He smiles at me and I wonder if he is thinking about Wrax and I. Or if I just can’t tear my mind away from the thought of my purple warrior.

  I wish I hadn’t had to leave him back there on the grass. But I am doing this for him.

  For us.

  “It’s unfortunate that not everyone agrees.” Fello continues to talk as we near the tree. I clear my throat nervously to interrupt him and he turns to me.

  “Um … what do I do, exactly?”

  The Tree of Varrasque towers over us and its trunk is so thick that I can barely see anything else out of my periphery now that I am standing so close to it. I swallow. There is something seriously unnerving about things so impossibly huge.

  Something draws me, some intense curiosity, to place my palm on the gray twisted bark of the tree, and a shudder runs through me when I feel the chill. It’s cold. Colder than a tree should be. Colder than the muggy temperature of the cavern. It’s like the chill is coming from within.

  I look at the Ambassador, who has stars in his eyes gazing over at me. I think he misses the old ways, when the Firosans were around. And having somebody who can communicate with the god of the Firosans would be a wonderful start.

  I find myself wondering, for a moment, if I would gain anything by faking a connection with Paxia. It might make Fello happy for a few minutes. But then I would be at a loss. The thought of walking away from here with nothing is heartbreaking.

  “What do I do?” I ask.

  “Keep your hand on the tree and, um, try to speak to her,” he says, clasping his hands together in front of his chest. “I … don’t know. It’s not something I was ever present for.”

  Right. Of course not. That would be way too helpful.

  I let out a breath.

  “Hey, Paxia,” I say, reaching up to rest my other hand on my hip. “What’s going on, girl?”

  Nothing.

  Of course there is nothing. I wince. I feel my muscles all tense. There can’t be nothing. This is my only hope. My last resort. My only resort.

  “Paxia,” I say, my tone harder this time. “Please. Speak to me. Hey!”

  Nothing.

  Tears prick at my eyes. “Paxia,” I say, my voice cracking. “The man I think I am supposed to be with is going to die and you’re the only one who can help. You abandoned the Mahdfel for too long. Now I am here, and you’re going to return and take your place once again as their goddess!”

  There is a rumble, suddenly, and I gasp, pressing my free hand to my mouth.

  “What?” Fello demands.

  “You didn’t feel that?” I am still tingling with aftershocks from what had to be a very mild earthquake under my feet.

  “No,” he says sadly.

  But I’m not sad … because I definitely did feel something. There is no doubt about it. “Paxia!” I say again. “We need you. Wake up and take care of this planet!”

  “N…o…”
>
  What the hell was that? Was that the wind?

  And did the wind seriously just say no to my desperate request?

  “What?” I whisper.

  “No…”

  “No? What? No to what? Really?” I gasp. I did not think that this would happen, of all things. She’s real, but she won’t help me? That didn’t even occur to me!

  “I am not … the one to take care of this planet.”

  I definitely heard that. There’s no question about it. And it’s in plain English. Good old Aphrodite must be working away to translate the humming sounds of the wind into the language I can understand.

  This has been a really weird day.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, my voice trembling.

  “Because … I am the planet.”

  “What?”

  “I am the planet. I am the flowers you crush with your foot. I am the tree you press your hand against. I am the veins of silver ore in the mines. I am the sweet mountain water that trickles from above. I am the planet.”

  “Wh—” I start to say again, but I think I’ve said that word too much. “Can you tell me more?” I ask, limbs shivering. I don’t want to look at Fello because I don’t want to see the excitement on his face when all I feel is fear. I know in my heart that he cannot hear what I hear.

  “I am a living, breathing organism,” Paxia says, and her voice is like a rumbling, creaking wind coming from inside the great trunk of the tree. I know it’s her. It truly is. “Just like you. And I have travelled from orbit to orbit before settling here.”

  My eyes could not be wider.

  “You breathe space air?” I ask quietly. I immediately kick myself. That is not the question I came here to ask!

  Fortunately, she hums a gentle laugh. It sounds like branches in the wind. I look up and see that green leaves are sprouting before my very eyes. Slowly, but surely.

  “Thank you, human, for waking me up. I know a little bit about humans from the people who come and go.” Her voice is slow, singsong. Hypnotic. I could listen to her forever. “They are a funny species. So varied in personality.”

  I don’t know what to say. I open my mouth a little and then decide that it’s best to probably chat with her a little before I ask any favors. “Paxia,” I say, “why did you abandon the Mahdfel when the Firosans died?”

  The soft sound of wind through branches could be a sigh. “I communicate directly with the soul. I … resonate on the wrong frequency to discuss anything with males. With the Mahdfel. Love them as I may, I cannot speak to them. Or they cannot hear me. Whichever it is does not matter. Especially because now you are here. You can hear me. We can fix all that is broken. Thank you ... for coming.”

  “Cara,” I say, though she didn’t ask.

  “Catalyst,” she neatly corrects me. “Lifemate of the future King.”

  “You know?” I ask.

  “I see a lot. There is little else to do but see.”

  “Then … do you know that the Eroder is planning to kill Wrax in their battle?”

  “Of course he is. The Mahdfel love their death matches, do they not?”

  “No. I mean, is he going to cheat? Is he going to try to defeat him honorably or not?”

  “I don’t know names,” Paxia says, her absent voice suddenly low. “But I see a terrible plot. Treason against your King. Dishonor. Yes.”

  My heart sinks, and I didn’t know that I was holding out hope that Wrax was wrong. Of course he would know if something like this were to happen. The arena is his more than it is anyone else’s.

  “How do I help?” I ask, feeling desperate. “Can you help me fix this?”

  There is a pause, except for the noise of rustling leaves. I don’t know if it’s in my head or not, because there is no wind down here. I wonder if I’m hearing Paxia think.

  “We will fix this,” she says finally.

  “Thank—”

  “Cara,” she interrupts. “We will fix everything. Is that acceptable to you?”

  “Yes!” I cry.

  “You do not understand, I fear. I want you to be at my side. We will fix everything. The Mahdfel are my children but they are … toddlers. Humanity is no better, but you can hear me and I can speak to you. I have travelled far and I have listened to every species who has evolved from dust on my back into sentience. Every experience they have had. Every theory, every invention. I have it all logged away.”

  I wonder how many species have lived on Paxia throughout her lifetime … the thought hurts my head. All the time in the universe that came before my life.

  “They have spaceflight but they cannot control the systems needed to unlock the ships without cybernetics. They have been trained to fly the crafts once set up, but they cannot open the doors without Firosan implants. Do you understand the predicament that their species is in? They live in dependence of a technology a millenia too advanced for them. With your help I can allow them access once again. I can allow them maintenance once again. The next generation will flourish with your assistance, Cara.”

  “Right,” I say. “And all that sounds really exciting. But for now … what about Wrax?”

  “The King,” she says, more to herself than to me, to confirm his identity. “Well, if I know my Firosan Mahdfel as well as I think I do … then perhaps I have an inkling for what might work.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “... what?”

  I laugh to myself, surprised at the idea that such an advanced ancient organism would get tripped up by a simple English idiom. Everything is relative. “Sorry. It means I’m happily listening. Please, tell me whatever you think will help. I don’t want Wrax to die, Paxia.”

  “I understand.” There is a heavy pause. “They might listen to the Catalyst. And to be my Catalyst, Cara, and to gain my wisdom and my help, you must do something simple.”

  “Yes?”

  “You must trust your gut. When not touching the Tree of Varrasque you will not feel the beating of my heart and the working of my mind. Organisms are electrical deep down, like the devices I have created for my children, and when our circuit is broken you will no longer be able to hear my voice.

  “But, you will be able to feel me. Because I am in everything. I am everything, here.”

  I nod.

  “So, Cara, to be my Catalyst and to have some hope of saving your King, you must simply trust your gut instincts when you are back in the world. Go with every choice you think is best. I will always be with you, willing and whispering. The Mahdfel cannot hear me, but … perhaps you will be able to.”

  “Trust my instincts,” I repeat. “I haven’t got a good track record for that.”

  She pauses as if churning that over. “It will remain to be seen. Please … I wish you luck, but I have things to prepare for now. And I must recover from a half-decade long rest. Allow me to fully wake up and get my bearings, and together we will figure it out.”

  “Figure what out?” I ask, desperate for this connection not to end. I don’t feel like anything has actually changed; like anything has been resolved. I am on the verge of panicking. Wrax cannot leave me. I don’t want to go back to Earth. I don’t want to live the rest of my life wondering what things would be like if I had my perfect match at my side.

  “How to save them, Cara,” Paxia says coolly, her words like the breeze in my hair. “If your instincts prove to be correct, then we will do it. We will save them all.”

  Chapter Nine

  Wrax

  I wake slowly, the light from the moon penetrating my eyelids. Only Aeo is out tonight; Phi must be on the other side somewhere. The light therefore is cool and blue-tinted, and the air smells distinctly sweeter than usual.

  But I notice what is wrong almost immediately.

  Where is my Cara?

  I sit up, still nude, and look around the darkness of the outdoor bath house. The pool ripples with the water from the artificial jets. The grass is bent and flattened by our bodies. The moon is high and proud. But she i
s nowhere to be seen.

  I grit my teeth. She has run away. Presumably to gather her thoughts, or to curse my name alone somewhere.

  It is difficult to blame her — I laid the truth on her so quickly and without any real thought or diplomacy, like she would have been so capable of. And now she is undoubtedly experiencing some anger towards me for my secrecy. Or for entering my DNA into the Lottery and forcing her to come all the way to this once-great planet only for me to die.

  I lay my hand on my chest to feel my heart beating. If only things could have been different. I may not know her well but she excites me, body and mind. I think that we would have been happy together, had things worked out the way they should have.

  I make my way around the back of the pools and through the winding network of connecting tunnels. First to the training rooms where Riven is still here, working hard, smashing the dummy foes with the dull edge of his sword. I think about going to greet him, but I don’t.

  There is something that I should do. Something that I would have done much earlier, had I not been … well, I suppose a coward.

  I can either fight and I can die the moment his weapon makes contact with my skin — and the Eroder is a fine battler. There is no question at all in my mind that contact will be made, even if I know for sure that I would have defeated him in the end.

  Or … I can surrender. I can live a life outside of the arena and I can lose the one thing that I believe I have: my honor. I can go into hiding and I can live like a recluse with my lifemate and my children, never to show my face again. I can watch from afar as all of Firosa descends into madness, because the closest thing they had to a leader is gone.

  And if I choose the latter, it is only so much time before somebody decides to go rogue and kill me anyway to prove their mettle.

  The only way to go forward is to die an honorable death; no question about it. At least then my lifemate will return to Earth to claim her reward credits in the place of her next of kin. She will live a life of luxury on her home planet if I die in battle. A Mahdfel widow.

  It is better than being bound to a Mahdfel fugitive for Paxia knows how long.