by Brandon Barr
The engine roared to life, and the vehicle lurched toward the ominous mass blackening the starry horizon. Intermixed with the whine of the engine, Aven could hear screaming. But it was only a memory.
Daeymara’s cries, ringing in his ear.
_____
ARENTISS
Arentiss peered over the small berm at the edge of the irrigation ditch. Water flowed around her feet. Hark crouched nearby, watching the mercenaries who were searching for them on foot.
Her eyes were on Aven. She watched as two mercenaries bound him. He was such a caring person. His psychological state was easily read by the sag of his shoulders. He had wanted to intervene and save Daeymara and now experienced sorrow and remorse at his failing.
Arentiss was pleased. Not that Daeymara was dead or maimed, but that Aven was alive. If he had reached Daeymara while the energy was still shooting into her from the weapon, he would have been electrocuted, too. Aven was such an empathetic human. To the point of dying for another who was already as good as dead. She watched as the two riders secured him to the back of one of their vehicles.
“Lie low,” said Hark in a whisper. “They’re coming this way.” He had a rock in his hand that he’d found in the irrigation canal.
Arentiss lowered her head but stopped short of losing sight of Aven. The only light came from the vehicles. She could barely make out the two mercenaries working now on Daeymara’s body, securing her to one of their riders.
There was a crackle of static, the sound of someone shouting. It was coming from one of the mercenaries. A communicator of some antiquated variety.
“Back to the ship!” shouted a male voice in a sputter of static. “There’s a ship approaching on our radar.”
Arentiss raised herself higher so she could see better. The mercenaries who had captured Aven hurried and jumped on their vehicles.
The only ship they could have detected was the Relic, the Guardians’ starship. Arentiss knew the mercenaries’ vessel was likely fully equipped with weaponry. It was clearly a scavenger craft.
A roar shook the ground. Light flared in the sky, brightening the entire valley as charges struck the mercenary vessel from directly overhead. The flare of explosives plumed into the air as the merc’s energy shields repelled most of the blast.
It was over before she realized it. The last rider disappeared up a ramp into the ship, and then the craft was airborne. The continuous volley of explosives pounding its hull was unrelenting.
The mercenary ship shot off in a deafening roar, pursued by the Guardian starship.
Arentiss and Hark stood in the sudden silence. The stars shone brightly now in the darkness.
“Just like our training vids,” said Hark. “Never dreamed it could happen.” He paused, pulling in a deep breath. “Did you count how many they took? I saw two. Aven and Daeymara.”
“I counted four,” said Arentiss. “Pike and Zoecara too.”
Something wet touched Arentiss' cheek, startling her. She captured it on the tip of her finger. It appeared to be water. Another drop rolled down her cheek.
She looked up again at the stars, grasping what was happening.
Tears.
She hadn’t felt such strong emotion since childhood. It was a strange, confusing sensation. She closed her eyes, but she couldn’t shut out the pain.
Aven.
_____
WINTER
Winter watched in silence as Karience’s fingers danced over the ship’s controls.
“They’re heading for the tower,” shouted Karience. “Ship to Captain Hawth. This is your Empyrean. Has the tower been evacuated?”
“Yes, Empyrean, except for Nephitus and me and a handful of Shield Force members to man the weapons.”
“Get out, Captain! Now! A hostile starship is coming your way!”
Karience took a breath and then shouted again, “Ship to Nephitus. Warden! What are you doing in the Tower?!”
“We’re protecting our resources. As Warden, that is my duty.”
“You don’t have the firepower to match this ship. Abandon your post, Warden!”
“Sorry, Empyrean. It’s too late for that. I see the ship on the screen. It’s at our doors.”
Winter saw the mercenary ship far below them, racing over Anantium, toward the Guardian Tower. Blue pulses shot out from the tower, targeting the vessel. The ship weaved in and out, dodging most, but the ones that struck seemed to have no effect. Then a massive pulse of light shot from the vessel toward the tower. A blinding glare lit the viewscreen, and Winter thrust her arm out to block her eyes from the flare.
The flash faded, and Winter stared as plumes of smoke covered the place where the Guardian Tower had stood. What lay under the smoke and the pulsing orange glow beneath, she could only imagine.
Death and destruction.
It was too late. Karience had warned them, but no one inside could have taken more than a few steps.
Karience made a low, guttural noise in her throat, her face rigid with fury. Winter felt her entire body pressed into the chair as the ship shot forward in a burst of speed. The mercenary vessel filled the viewscreen. Bursts of light shot from their own starship. Each looked like a blazing white star shooting through the dark sky, curving toward the mercenaries. The moment the first one reached it, the viewscreen glowed with a hot orange explosion, then another, and another. Karience was jabbing the controls, pummeling the rear of the mercenary ship.
Red lights came from the enemy vessel, growing in size as they turned in the night sky, soaring toward the Relic.
“Hold on!” shouted Karience.
Their ship shook. The straps held Winter in her chair, but her head felt like it would be whipped off her body if not for the tall chair back.
“We can’t take much more of this,” shouted Karience. “This ship isn’t designed for warfare.”
Winter felt a pull on her mind. The tug of Whisper, drawing her away.
An image slowly formed. A butterfly wing. Whisper’s wing, torn away at the joint. The eye-like dot stared at her. The mysterious eye drew her in, becoming real, soul-bearing, alive. And then her perspective grew larger, and she saw the wing was held, cupped in someone’s hand. It was her brother’s hand. Before him was the monster that had continuously hounded her visions. The creature was hungry for him. Hideous to look upon.
It stood there, low-set eyes drooping behind a snout longer than any human body.
Whisper’s wing lay there, limp in Aven’s hand, and the vision faded.
A horrible certainty gripped Winter. Aven was on board the mercenary ship. She looked up at the viewscreen and saw the ugly vessel racing away from them into the stars.
Aven was on board.
And so was the monster.
HEARTH
Epilogue
SAVARAH
Warm energy whirled inside her right breast where she knew the arrow had torn through her chest. The healing sensation felt just like her master’s touch. A touch she hadn’t felt since the war games of her youth. But this couldn’t be Isolaug’s doing…
Unless Harcor had brought her back to the Star Garden Realm.
Horror seized her. Was she being resurrected? Was she back in Praelothia?!
The thought of what Isolaug might do to her. Images arose in her mind. Memories of tortures and mutilations she’d witnessed as a young girl.
Slowly, she opened her eyes.
Three faces hung above her. A young girl, a man not long from youth, and a boy-child. The girl’s hands appeared to be on her chest. Just as the Divine King, whose mind her master ruled, used to do.
“She’s awake,” said the boy.
All eyes turned to her.
“Who are you?” asked Savarah.
“Diviners,” said the man. “This boy is a Tongue of the gods. If you listen to him, you won’t be directed wrong.”
“I have words for you!” said the boy excitedly. He dropped to his hands and knees and put his face close to her own. She wa
nted to slap away the boy’s stupid grin.
“A ship from the stars is coming to our world! A scary, scary monster is inside the ship, with huge teeth and big claws. It has a tongue as long as a snake, and even its eyes are big. The monster’s so, so big! It’s almost as big as this whole house. And it has a friend. You are going to like the monster’s friend, if you listen to my words. He will protect you. The gods know what you want in your heart. They say they won’t give it to you, but they’ll give you something better if you trust my words.
“I think that’s it,” said the boy. “No…one more thing. You have to watch the sky. In two days, you’ll see the ship come down over there.”
Savarah was relieved when the boy pulled away and pointed. His stubby arm and finger rotated like a stunted wind vane, teetering, toward the east. It was the very direction she wanted to go. To Praelothia. She stared at the three for a moment. “Why are you healing me?”
“Because,” said the girl, “we were directed to you by the gods, the Makers.” The girl looked up at the man. “Are you going to tell her what you see?”
The man stared at the girl for a moment, then looked down at Savarah. “You have a spirit creature attached to you. It has become a part of what drives you. I thought I was supposed to remove it, but I feel pressed not to. Just know that it is there. Perhaps it will be removed by some other means. I hope it is. It’s not a pretty little creature. Do you experience many emotions?”
Savarah glared at him. “Hardly.”
“The monster will help you with that!” said the boy, grinning happily. “You’ll see. Just wait and see.”
“This woman is a killer,” said the girl whose hands held the powerful healing. Her eyes were not on Savarah, but on the man. “You were not directed to remove the spirit. It has a purpose to play. One of them is plain to me…she still has much killing to do.”
Author’s Note
Dear reader,
I personally loved writing this second book in the Song of the Worlds series. The sci-fi elements were a lot of fun, as were the many personalities within the Missionary Enclave of the Guardians.
It took me a little over a year to write book one and two in this series. I still remember the catalyst that drove me to start the series in earnest. It was the looming birth of my third son, Isaiah. I realized that if I didn’t buckle down, create a schedule and stick to it, I’d never finish. I started writing seriously on Rise of the Seer (formerly titled, Her Dangerous Visions) in December of 2013. Isaiah was due in January.
Motivated and excited, I began waking up before my day job, between 3am and 4am, and I did this without an alarm clock! My passion for the story was the thing that stirred me awake at what most would deem an ungodly hour. It is a blessed hour for me, because it allows me to deliver these stories to you! I’m a morning person anyway :D
This early morning schedule continues to today. It’s a wonderful habit, and I love the peace and quiet of the early morning. My mind is fresh, and alert (with a little boost of tea or coffee).
I can’t wait for you to start book three! The consistent reader reviews bare out that the series only intensives as it rolls on, and this pleases me to no end. A good series shouldn’t ever grow stale, but charge upward and onward. In Her Father’s Fugitive Throne, the fantasy elements return with vigor as Meluscia and Savarah’s stories intensify! But Aven and Meluscia are both in for a ride of their own…and Winter’s vision of Aven and the monster…let’s just say writing that storyline was thrilling!
Oh, and I’m sure you’ve been wondering if the characters on Loam and Hearth will ever connect.
Wonder no longer. Grab book three, Her Father’s Fugitive Throne, on Amazon!
Brandon Barr
2016
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.