The Xenoworld Saga Box Set

by Kyle West

  I doubted that, but of course, I didn't voice that opinion. I supposed if the Dragonlord's family was going to be there, there was little chance of things getting bloody. Despite myself, I was curious what the family of a gang lord looked like.

  We left the room, following Valan down the well-lit corridors. When we reached the atrium, high windows admitted a generous amount of light. The place was busier today than late last night, but was mostly just other gang members gathered in small groups. There was a sense of anticipation in the air that I just couldn’t place, as if something big was about to happen.

  We followed another corridor, passing a large amount of guards, before turning into a wide room with people sitting around a table laden generously with food – eggs with peppers, ham, roast potatoes, toast with butter and jam, along with beans and tortillas. My mouth salivated at the sight, and there seemed to even be milk, coffee, and orange juice. The latter was something only rich people drank in Colonia – after all, who wasted an entire orange by squeezing out the juice? Only wealthy people could be so wasteful. Coffee, however, was something drunk by both rich and poor, in varying degrees of quality.

  My eyes went from the food to the man sitting at the head of the table, who I guessed to be the Dragonlord. He was surprisingly mild-looking for someone in command of an entire gang. He was shorter than average, with a light, well-groomed brown beard and light brown eyes that had a peculiar hardness to them. His skin was light brown; he would not have looked at all out of place on the streets of Colonia. His facial features were sharp, reminding me of a hawk. His eyes were overly large and set too close together, while there was almost a feminine arch to his eyebrows. Three marks were branded into his forehead; apparently, there was nothing above three marks, since I couldn’t imagine a rank higher than his.

  He was a strange-looking man, not blessed with looks, but none of that seemed to matter, because the woman sitting at his side was beautiful, with wavy brown hair and high cheekbones that made her appear queenly. Even the three marks upon her forehead did not mar her beauty. Her warm brown eyes, coupled with her smile, made me feel welcome, even if I knew that it was just for show. Her ears were studded with ruby earrings, and she wore a gold and diamond necklace, along with a rich, red dress with golden trim that exposed a generous amount of bosom, far past the point of modesty. There were also two young boys, looking a couple of years apart, not quite old enough to grow any facial hair – the older was like a miniature version of the father, perhaps twelve years of age, while the younger was softer and more delicate-looking. He looked more like his mother. Neither of the sons had marks, which made me think that they weren’t given until one came of age.

  Curiously, there were two other women sitting at the table who I couldn’t place. They were both beautiful, but seemed reserved, not even looking up from their plates in greeting. Perhaps sisters of the Dragonlord, though both didn’t look much like him. Each bore two marks, which was telling in why their behavior seemed more submissive.

  The Dragonlord nodded. “Be welcome, Seekers of the Sanctum. Please...be seated.”

  There were three empty chairs at the end of the table. Isaru and I took the last two, leaving space between ourselves and one of the unknown women. Immediately as we were seated, slaves appeared from the woodworks and began to fill our plates – with thick slices of honeyed ham, fluffy eggs with jalapeños, peppers, and onions, black beans laden with spices and butter and bacon, with golden toast buttered and jammed thickly to perfection. Not engorging myself right there and then was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

  “Cream and honey for your coffee, my lady?” a female slave asked, pleasantly.

  I was about to tell her there was no need, but then again, I really did want both. “Yes. Lots.”

  Fresh coffee was poured, and the steam curled up from the cup, the aroma tantalizing. Once coffee was poured, a generous dollop of cream and three spoonfuls of honey were mixed in delicately. I had never taken either with coffee; it had never occurred to me to drink it with anything added to it. As bad as it was to be served by slaves, in my state, I only had an eye for the food.

  The slaves stepped away, giving us space to eat.

  The Dragonlord watched me with a small smile on his thin lips, seeming to know every thought that ran through my mind.

  “Please...let us begin.”

  For a gang lord, I was surprised at the man’s manners. Then again, he might have just been doing this because he thought we were Seekers and didn’t want us to think less of him. But judging by the fanciness of the dishes, as well as the quality of their clothing and their mannerisms, this was probably a daily occurrence. Indeed, I felt out of place in my shabby clothing.

  Feeling out of place, however, was trumped by the need to eat. It was hard to make myself go as slow as everyone else. My stomach was positively screaming at me to scarf everything down before me as quickly as possible, as if at any moment it might be snatched away. Everything was delicious, but my favorite was the orange juice and coffee, mainly because I wasn’t used to sweet things. I had to get my glass refilled three times in the course of the meal.

  In between bites, though, we answered the Dragonlord’s questions.

  “Thank you for joining us,” he said. “You do our table great honor. I have never hosted a Seeker, though I have always wanted to meet one. It is my good fortune, praise the Sphere, that today, I have the privilege of meeting two.”

  Praise the Sphere. Apparently, people thought the thing was some sort of deity.

  “We are grateful for the invitation,” I said, not sure what else to say.

  The Dragonlord nodded, as if that answer was as he expected. “I am called Avon Galice; I am not sure my name has been given, but I am called the Dragonlord by my men. This is my wife, Delrania...” The beautiful woman I had guessed to be his wife gave a gracious nod. “My sons...Camillo and Nathaniel.” He nodded across the table, as if making a side comment. “This is Penelope and Firenzia...two of my other wives.”

  I tried to hide my shock at that, and thankfully was able to keep my face steady. Such things weren’t allowed in Colonia or the Red Wild for all I knew, but I supposed when you were the king of your own kingdom, you could make all the rules you wanted.

  Isaru, however, seemed to be far more comfortable with the situation. As a prince, I was sure he’d had his share of fancy dinners with important people.

  “We are pleased to make your acquaintance, Dragonlord. You do us great honor in inviting us to dine with your lovely family. We look forward to getting to know you.”

  I almost wanted to laugh; there was no way Isaru actually meant that, but from his tone, it was as if he meant every word.

  The Dragonlord smiled graciously, and even the Lady Delrania smiled with pleasure.

  I decided there and then to be as polite as I could, but to let Isaru do the talking. Everyone else remained quiet, apparently knowing that it was not their place to speak. Even if the family was there, there was a sense that, among guests, it was the prerogative of the father to speak.

  “Allow me to introduce ourselves,” Isaru said. “I am Elec, of the Champion Sect of the Seekers’ Sanctum, and this is Alara, of the same Sect. On behalf of the Sanctum, we thank you for this reception, which was most unexpected, but appreciated.”

  Dragonlord Avon smiled at that. “But of course, Champion Elec...if I am correct in that title.”

  “Yes, but please, call us simply Elec and Alara, should you please.”

  “It would please me greatly. Lord Avon shall suffice for you.” He leaned forward. “So tell me, for I am curious; you are both so young, and yet Nael’s tale of your prowess cannot be doubted. Are all Champions so versatile, and so young, as the two of you?”

  He was testing us. It was hard to tell how much he knew of the Seekers’ customs, but generally, they weren't well-known outside the Red Wild. Seekers were the subject of stories, but many – like the soldier who had protested to Nael when we ha
d claimed to be Seekers – didn’t believe they existed at all. It was hard to tell which camp the Dragonlord fell into.

  “The usual age of ascension is twenty,” Isaru said, carefully. “We are far from that, as you may have guessed. I myself am eighteen, while Alara is seventeen. Ascension before then is uncommon, but not unprecedented. Our Gifts are such that the Elders of the Sanctum found more benefit in an early ascension than a usual one.”

  The Dragonlord leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard. “Yes, I see. I suppose you can't have been a Seeker long, though.”

  “You suppose correctly, Lord Avon. Not long at all,” Isaru said. “A few weeks, as a matter of fact. Our business here in the Ruins will be our first mission, and it was judged to be something a newly ascended pair of Seekers could handle.”

  The Dragonlord raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Few would be so brash as to speak of the Ruins in that way. I don't doubt your talent; but by a similar line of reasoning, you shouldn't doubt the danger here.”

  “It’s been a long time since the Seekers have come here,” Isaru said. “It could be that the Elders were not as well-versed on the dangers here as they believed. Indeed, we had not expected to encounter such resistance.”

  This statement seemed to mollify the Dragonlord somewhat. He hadn’t liked hearing that two teenagers had been able to cut their way through the Ruins like hot butter.

  There was an awkward silence as everyone continued to eat. Several Dragons stood to the sides of the room, wary of any aggression on our part. Even if we didn’t have weapons, they were taking the security of the Dragonlord and his family very seriously.

  “All the more dangerous,” the Dragonlord continued, “for we find ourselves in the midst of the greatest war that has ever visited itself upon the Ruins. Every gang is involved, and for the last year, it has been nothing but death and horror.” He looked at each of us pointedly. “I hope for nothing more than its swift conclusion, by almost any means necessary.”

  By now, I was almost done with my second plate. The Lady Delrania was watching me with open horror, probably because the amount I was eating was rude. Lord Avon’s opinion was more important, and it didn’t seem as if he cared much. So, I ate on.

  “My dear,” the Dragonlord said to his wife, “might you take the children to the nursery?”

  “Come, children,” Delrania said briskly.

  Without a word, both children rose from the table. Even if they weren’t spoken to, the Dragonlord’s other wives also rose, knowing the order included them; if even the first wife couldn’t stay, they obviously couldn’t either. I noticed that there was clearly tension between them and Avon’s first wife, who didn’t do well in hiding the dirty look she gave each of them as they departed. I guessed that it wasn’t custom that they eat at the same table, but for some reason, Avon had wanted them there today. Maybe to show off to us, or perhaps to put us off balance?

  When the room was cleared, Lord Avon next nodded to the guards, who hesitated only a moment before vacating the room. They shut the door behind them, leaving us in silence.

  The Dragonlord studied us both, seeming perfectly at ease with the long quiet that followed. “You both clearly haven’t had a good meal in a while.”

  I didn’t say anything in response, instead waiting for Isaru to speak.

  “The desert...hasn’t been kind, Lord Avon.”

  “You traveled afoot, I presume,” Lord Avon said, leaning back in his chair. He grabbed a nearby candle while taking out a fat cigar. He lit it and gave it a few testing puffs.

  “Fine tobacco. Imported from Chiapas, in southern Nova.” He reached for another, offering it to Isaru and completely ignoring me. Perhaps it wasn't deemed proper for women to smoke.

  Isaru politely declined. Lord Avon took a few long draws, holding the smoke in for a long time before breathing it out.

  “Now,” he said. “To business.” He tapped the ash from his cigar onto a small, empty plate. The smell was just now reaching us, and it was pungent. “You have just arrived in the Ruins, I presume.”

  Isaru nodded. “Just yesterday.”

  “I am guessing you know little of the...political situation.”

  “Almost nothing. Our aim is our mission, and any relevant information was to be acquired on arrival. It's been years since Augurs have conducted a proper study of this place.”

  The bit about Augurs not performing any study on the Ruins was probably correct, for all I knew. Isaru always had strange snippets of knowledge like that in the back of his mind that had a way of serving him well later.

  “Then, allow me to enlighten you, Seeker Elec,” Lord Avon said. “The entire city has been in a state of war for the past few months. The Red Suns – ten members of which you've killed – are the largest and most powerful gang, controlling almost half of the territory and slaves. Their leader – a man by the name of Mithras – has declared himself as the Grand Prophet of Elekim. A man who was sent to clear the way for his coming, which is due any day now.” Avon chuckled darkly. “Of course, anyone with a brain can see right through it. Religion is used as currency here...currency that buys souls willing to die for that religion. The problem, however, is so very few in the Ruins have a brain.”

  “What do you mean?” Isaru asked.

  “The so-called Prophet Mithras is a brilliant tactician. He gained control of the Suns by overthrowing their former leader...a man named Virgo. And since then, he has led the gang on a series of conquests, taking over much of the prized territory of the city, mostly in the north. He promises freedom to any able-bodied male slave that escapes to his borders, only swelling his ranks, discarding with centuries of tradition, uprooting communities. Any in his path who do not join him are defeated and put to the sword. If nothing is done, they will take over the whole of the Ruins.”

  “Why should this matter to us?” I said, cutting in.

  Avon looked at me, annoyed by the interruption. He had not had the same reaction to Isaru. This man did not see women as his equal, but I continued to stare him down.

  “It matters, because we can help each other, Champion Alara. Ever since the beginning of Mithras’s conquests, I have endeavored to form a coalition of gangs to stand against him. Such things are not easily done.”

  Isaru nodded, as if he was well-aware of that fact.

  “However, the Red Suns have done something so vile, so despicable, something never seen in the history of the Ruins...that the coalition has formed, and we stand ready to attack.”

  “What have they done?” Isaru asked.

  Lord Avon leaned forward meaningfully. “They have taken control of the Sphere itself. They allow no food to leave, nor do they even allow the Priests who live there to leave. For this outrage, they must be crushed, every one of them slaughtered, and the Priests freed from their tyranny.”

  I remembered what Rasi had told me about the Sphere; it was the only place that was off limits to attack. It was seen as holy, and its priests inviolable, so it was easy to understand how it being taken over was enough to get the gangs to unite against the Suns.

  “A battle will soon be fought,” Lord Avon said. “A surprise attack upon the Sphere itself, which is surrounded by three layers of walls. Should the attack fail, the Red Suns can starve the rest of us into submission. The Twelve Gangs are usually unable to set aside petty rivalries in the face of a greater danger, but this is not the case now. This very night, the final attack will begin.”

  “Where do we come in?” Isaru asked.

  “You are to aid in the attack,” Avon said. “Not in the main charge, of course – that is for the rank and file. You are to attack Mithras himself.”

  I could hardly believe what Avon had just told us. He wanted us – two perfect strangers – to risk our lives doing his dirty work.

  “And why would we do this for you?” Isaru asked.

  “You came to the Ruins at a very bad time,” Avon said. “Even if you tried to escape from here, you would likely be killed
on your way out. Mithras’s patrols are everywhere in force, and it’s not likely you would get out alive.”

  “We got in alive,” I said.

  “You also entered from the only area that we control, in the south,” Avon said. “I know that, because otherwise, you would be dead.”

  “Killing Mithras will not be easy,” Isaru said. “Generally, commanders are in the back of battle, surrounded by guards.”

  “And yet, you killed ten without even batting an eye,” Avon said. “It can be done. The hardest part will be going around the battlefront and into the back ranks without being noticed.” Avon gave a small smile. “But we have devised a way.”

  “How?” Isaru asked.

  “The Sphere is the key to most of Mithras’s power. If it’s in our control, he won’t be able to feed all of his troops. This means he must defend it. It is his weak point.”

  “But is it not already heavily defended?” Isaru asked.

  “Very much so,” Avon said. “Yet, we have the advantage of numbers. Another attack will occur far from the Sphere, but not too far to arouse Mithras’s suspicion that it is a feint. The Drakes are going to be attacking into some of their territory, and since the leader of the Drakes, Caralis, is brash, it is believable that he would do such a thing. Mithras will be forced to respond, leaving the Sphere weaker. That is when the real attack begins.”

  “What does the Sphere even look like?” Isaru asked. “I will be blunt – it is exactly what we came to study, being interested in old Elekai technology. We know very little of it at the Sanctum, as the records somehow wound up in Brevia years ago, which, as you probably know, none have access to.”

  “I see,” Avon said, considering. “Then this is even more fortuitous.”

  “How so?”

  Lord Avon lay down his cigar, having finished with it. “Because your sneak attack will go into the Sphere itself. The Sphere is considered a holy place. None are permitted inside, save the Priests who maintain it, drawn from every gang and selected by the Priests themselves. Not all are born with ability to work the Sphere, so those who do form a special caste – one which is not allowed to bear any weapon, nor ally with any gang. Their sole purpose is to run the Sphere, according to their secret art. None are permitted inside on pain of death.”