The Panagea Tales Box Set

by McKenzie Austin

  Nicholai parted from the group, swishing his polished black footwear over the upturned dirt. Strange. He found no evidence that a city had ever existed here. Not like in Nenada, where vines, roots, and moss coexisted with the abandoned buildings, steam cars, and cobblestones. It was as if the forest had always been. As if it swallowed all existence of the human life that had lived here before.

  Despite the lack of civilization, he felt no isolation. There were spirits here. That was certain. As he lifted his gaze from the ground and sent it back toward the others, the man felt the pressing weight of countless eyes on him. Creatures, camouflaged in the colors of the trees.

  It reminded him of the moment they first stepped foot on Umbriel’s island, only far more intimidating.

  “You sure we’re in the right place?” Kazuaki asked, glancing over his shoulder at Nicholai.

  The former Time Father frowned. “It’s … it’s hard to tell, exactly.” He scanned the area, unnerved by how little evidence of Southwestern’s new hometown existed after all this time. “According to the coordinates I gave you, this is as close to Shilas as I could get us.” Nicholai rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “I can’t say for sure that Emont will have remained near his hometown after all this time, but … this is almost certainly where he would have been abducted from.”

  Kazuaki arched a brow. He looked down, giving a swift kick to an uprooted tree stump. “Doesn’t matter. We’ll have better luck finding Emont if we draw the Goddess of Animals to us, rather than waste time looking for her.”

  Nicholai tilted his head. “I don’t know, Kazuaki. She’s likely to be furious, after what you did to her forest. I can’t imagine she’ll just hand Emont over willingly.”

  “Hey!”

  Overhead, Penn shouted down from the airship’s deck. Everyone turned, to grant the cook their attention.

  His gaze flattened, and he leaned his elbows on the handrail. “Am I staying with the ship, or what?”

  Running his tongue over his bloody teeth, Brack simply couldn’t miss an opportunity to rattle the man’s nerves. He cupped his hands to his mouth once more and called up to him. “I doubt anyone’s gonna claim the ol’ girl for themselves out here, mate! Best you come down and join us!”

  Even from the distance, the crew watched the color drain from Penn Elmbroke’s face. Anxiety infected him. He looked to Kazuaki, swallowing his concern into the bottom of his stomach. “Right,” he called back, reluctant to admit his fear. “Should … should I bring anything down, or …?”

  Kazuaki’s gaze flattened. Penn would perish within ten minutes in this terrain. It was a gamble just dragging Nico with them. For as aggressive as the cook’s pub brawling skills were, they wouldn’t help him against the more aggressive animals of the captain’s memories. The grizzled bears, the poisonous reptiles, the tusked hogs, the hostile and fanged beasts. Childhood memories made them seem more like monsters in his mind. He wondered if they still were. Even if they were amplified and embellished in a child’s mind, they likely still had enough power to bring down a scrawny cook with no muscle mass. “No. Keep the birds off the deck. I don’t want the damn scavengers getting into our food supply.”

  Relief flooded back into Penn’s face, but he masked it quickly with belligerent sarcasm. “Pest control. Joy of all joys.” Unwilling to wait for Kazuaki to change his mind, Penn turned and hurried over to grab a loose pipe. The perfect weapon against any winged creatures that dared to approach his provisions.

  “So,” Rennington interjected, cracking his knuckles, “did we decide on a plan? Personally, I’m with Captain on this one. Let’s summon the wench and get this over with. Southwestern is some fifteen hundred miles of land here. Emont isn’t going to just fall into our laps after ten minutes of searching.”

  “Leave this one to me, boys and girls.” Brack stretched his arms upward, flexing as he brought them back down. “Ain’t no woman alive who can resist my calling, whether she’s omnipotent or not. I’ve no qualms about whispering a sweet prayer to get a goddess in my lap.”

  “Can we please think this through a little?” Nicholai stepped forward, holding out his hands. “She’s going to be irate. Every one of us, aside from Kazuaki, is powerless to stop her—and without a weapon from the realm in between, even he is going to struggle. We have no idea whether or not she’ll be able to lay siege to our minds. She may be more powerful than the others.” He looked back and forth amongst the crowd, imploring them to listen. “I’ve been under a god’s manipulation before. Trust me—it’s not fun.”

  “Here.” Elowyn slid her pack off her shoulders, long enough to dig inside one of its many pockets. She removed a small vial of pills and tossed them Nicholai’s way. “A parting gift that I took from Eastern. It’s the medicine that Doctor Evanston perfected from my notes. It temporarily weakens the emotional memories stored in the central amygdala, as well as the aggressive recollections that you hoard in the hippocampus. Essentially, any negative memory or emotion that the gods can manipulate.” She frowned. “There are some side effects, however …”

  Nicholai blinked, catching the pills in his metal hand. He cocked his head and threw her a suspicious glance. “Such as?”

  “Well,” she started, shrugging, “the medicine only fades the emotions, meaning the gods will have a harder time aggrandizing them. You’ll still be yourself,” she said, recalling how her first medicinal prototype completely wiped any shred of humanity from a person’s sense of self, “but, it weakens all incoming sensory signals. Including one’s ability to perceive threats. That’s all well and good in the relative safety of a city, but out here …”

  A nervous laugh slipped through Nicholai’s lips, as he stared at the unlabeled vial. Far too many threats existed in the raw wilderness. The Goddess of Animals was a danger, of course … but so was just about everything else. “I appreciate it, Elowyn, but … I think I’d prefer to have all my wits about me.”

  “Sound choice,” the medic replied, reaching over to take the pills back from his waiting hand.

  “All righty.” Brack rubbed his palms together, a grin on his face. “Now that that’s solved—”

  “Nothing’s been solved,” Nicholai interrupted.

  “I’ll just summon the ol’ girl with a little Joney charm.”

  “Brack, I really don’t think—”

  “Come off it, Nico.” Rennington swatted the man, as he turned to look at the others. “It probably won’t even work. We need a backup plan.” The Southern soldier thumbed toward Kazuaki. “We all know damn well that Captain only answers a small handful of the prayers that come his way. What makes you think she’s gonna just—”

  A snapping twig earned everyone’s attention. All eyes swung in the direction of the sound, staring into the dimly lit forest. Predisposition prodded many to draw their weapons. They gawked, waiting for the source to make itself known.

  “Brack,” Nicholai whispered, his narrowed gaze inspecting the shadows through the trees, “did you utter your prayer yet?”

  The man’s back stiffened. He tilted his head, trying to get a better view of what awaited them. “Can’t say that I did, mate.”

  A low growl rumbled from deep within a creature’s throat. Granite stepped forward, placing himself between the noise and his comrades. The adjustment in position was just enough that a sliver of sunlight managed to pierce through the trees and catch the snarling animal’s eyes. They seemed to glow; a trick of the brain.

  Granite stepped closer. When his vision adjusted to the growing darkness, he saw the patch of fur, sitting beneath the singed brush. Mixtures of gray and brown wove through the creature’s pelt. It looked to be a dog, but larger.

  The man spied the reason for the animal’s distress. A hefty tree limb, thrown by the recent explosion, sat over one of the creature’s hind legs. Shrapnel in the form of pointed wooden slivers cut into the same muscle. It caught on the heavy limb that pinned it each time the animal attempted to jerk its leg free. />
  Kazuaki was the first to lower his gun. Somewhere, deep in the far recesses of his childhood memories, he recalled such a creature. They were scarce. A dying breed when he was a boy. Still, the word rolled off his tongue, as if he’d never forgotten the long-extinct animal at all. “A wolf.”

  The animal’s lips peeled back, bearing its teeth. Large paws rustled in the leaves, as it tried once more to flee. The effort was in vain. It could not move its mangled body from where it was trapped.

  “I don’t know what that is,” Rennington muttered, squinting as he lined up his aim, “but I think we should put it down before it tries to put us down.”

  In one swift movement, Granite reached back. The massive man’s palm swallowed the handgun’s barrel.

  “The feck are you doing?” The soldier arched a brow, as he tried to tug his weapon out of the behemoth’s grip.

  Granite pulled the gun from Rennington’s grasp and shoved it into an empty space in the large, tactical holster he wore on his hips. Everyone watched in silence as he approached the creature slowly, measuredly, and crouched into a position several feet from it.

  With unhurried, deliberate movement, Granite reached into one of the compartments sewn into his pants. It had been months since the beast died. Months since he last had the pleasure of pulling a shred of dried food from his pocket and sharing it with the animal he adored. For each new day that passed, he still found himself tucking extra handfuls of rations into the compartments of his pants pockets, despite having no one to share them with.

  It helped with the pain. One less habit to change. One less routine to abandon, to remind him that the beast was truly gone.

  With a gentle toss, he sent the provision in the wolf’s direction. The creature’s ears flattened, and it paid the offering little mind. A noise that was half of a growl, half of a yelp, rattled out of the animal’s maw.

  Bermuda’s spine stiffened as she stood straighter. “Granite …”

  Ignoring her, he tossed the wolf another morsel. It only earned him more growling. Growling that escalated, when he took a shuffled scoot closer to the injured creature.

  Having spent time with the man during the beast’s undeniable draining of life, Bermuda recalled Granite’s silent grief. The nights that she’d return to Aggi Normandy’s home, coated in the blood of dead gods and goddesses, Granite’s stoic misery managed to invade her otherwise emotionless soul. Were it that she was not deadened by resolve—and tainted by syringes full of military-grade drugs—she would have wept for him. For his loss.

  But this wolf, though it shared an irrefutable likeness, was not the beast.

  “Come on, Granite.” The quartermaster tried to soften her tone. “That animal has half a mind to rip any one of our throats out.”

  “She’s injured,” Granite replied, surprising them with the rare sound of his voice. “Scared.” He threw the wolf another small chunk of food. “If someone demolished your home … mangled your leg … would you greet them with a smile?”

  Bermuda pinched her lips together and lowered her weapon without another word.

  As Granite took another careful scoot closer, the wolf’s fur bristled. She yelped as she tried to move away, pinned by the unforgiving weight of the tree, and the shrapnel that pierced her.

  “Elowyn.” Granite summoned her without tearing his eyes from the creature. “If I keep her from biting you,” he said, maintaining a vigilant calm, “will you remove the splinters and stitch her leg?”

  The medic’s brows pulled together. “Excuse me?”

  It was then that Granite finally tore his gaze from the animal and found Elowyn’s. He said nothing, but his expression pleaded for an assist.

  “I …” Elowyn flinched, fairly certain that she had never seen that look on Granite’s face in all of her life. “I can try, but …” She steeled her nerves, holding tight to her pack. “You better have a damn good grip.”

  Kazuaki growled when Elowyn made a nervous approach toward Granite and the wolf. They didn’t have time for this. He opened his mouth to protest but closed it when Bermuda rested a gentle hand on his arm.

  “Can you just let him?” she whispered, her eyes shining as she stared up at her lover. “You didn’t see him when he had to say goodbye to the beast …” Empathy seeped through the tight crease of her lips, and she shook her head. “I think it might be good for him … to feel like … like he’s helping to ease its pain.”

  The god parted his lips to speak but closed them just as hastily. As ridiculous as it felt to cater to one animal’s wellbeing in a forest of what likely numbered in the thousands, it was hard to say no to her. It always was.

  Nicholai leaned in, joining Bermuda in a hushed conversation that neither knew he overheard. “Something tells me he’d just do it without your permission, anyway.”

  Kazuaki frowned. He was right about that. “Make it quick,” the captain grumbled to Elowyn, as she positioned herself beside the animal and removed her surgical kit. “We don’t have time to linger.”

  The wolf snapped at Granite, getting in several successful bites before he positioned his powerful arm around her neck. The muscles in her body flailed and fought, but even with her strength, she was no match for the behemoth’s firm, yet tender grip.

  “Shh,” he whispered into the animal’s ear, gently stroking her fur as she clawed at him with the one back leg she was able to move. “Shh …”

  Elowyn scooted back as Granite reached over, holding the thrashing wolf with one arm, and removing the cumbersome tree limb with the other. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of the blood that snaked down his bicep, crawling away from the fresh bites he sustained during the wolf’s detainment. The creature bucked even more when the weight of the limb was lifted from her leg, but in seconds, Granite wrapped his other arm around the whole of her and held her as still as he could.

  The medic swallowed. She painstakingly removed the visible pieces of wood that penetrated the animal’s leg. The wolf looked small in Granite’s arms, but it was still terrifying. When a shrill cry leaped from the creature’s maw, Elowyn’s hands shot up, and she sent a panicked look Granite’s way. “Are you sure you’ve got her?”

  Softly rubbing the wolf’s cheek with the thumb of the hand that held her neck, Granite nodded. “I got her.”

  Elowyn blew out her cheeks, leaning over to remove the last few bits of wood before she cleansed the wound with a liquid pulled from her satchel. The wolf snarled, yelped, and tried to free herself from Granite’s hold, but to no avail. As soon as she was able, Elowyn made her sutures, stitching as swiftly as her nervous fingers allowed.

  “It’s not my best work,” the medic muttered before she bit the excess thread off. Cringing at the sight of her hasty seams, Elowyn sighed. “But, she wasn’t exactly the most willing patient I’ve ever sewn up.”

  Granite picked the wolf up and carried her away from the others, in the event that she tried to attack when he freed her. “Thank you,” he said to Elowyn, as he knelt some twenty feet away.

  Everyone watched with curious eyes while Granite released his grip. The wolf snapped at him when he released her but made no contact before she turned, limping off into the forest. Gaining some height after leaping onto a fallen tree, the creature looked back over her shoulder. She took the sight of Granite and the others in one final time, before vanishing into the consuming protection of her homeland.

  Granite watched her go. He waited for a long moment, hoping or wondering if she might come back. The upturned trees almost looked like the junkyard the beast had crawled out of, once upon a time. When she did not return, and the realization that she would was simply a pipe dream, he turned and walked back toward the others.

  “Your arm—” Elowyn motioned to the bite marks his efforts had earned him. “Looks like she isn’t the only one who needs some stitches.”

  Glancing down at his injuries, Granite grabbed the bottom of his shirt. He pressed the cloth into the holes to soak up the blood. “Captain i
s eager to carry on,” he said, wiping away as much evidence of the dark red liquid as he could. “Let’s get on with it.”

  Nicholai studied the towering man, his expression revealing nothing. The former Time Father’s feet shuffled beneath him, and his gaze fell downward. Had Granite found some closure over his lost loved one in that exchange? Nicholai certainly hoped so. Healing fully after being gutted in such a way was a tricky and difficult thing. He would have given Granite some advice if he had any of his own.

  A frown claimed Nicholai’s face. One would think that after losing his mother, Lilac, Umbriel—even Edvard—that he would have mastered the art of skillfully letting go. At the very least, he should have mastered the art of mourning. Even that seemed like a far off achievement, locked somewhere in a paralyzing numbness in the far recesses of his brain.

  All in due time. He had more pressing things to do than grieve. The Chronometers needed to be eradicated. Inequality needed to be eliminated.

  “There,” Kazuaki muttered, interrupting Nicholai’s troubled thoughts. The captain opened his eye and stared at the others. “It is done.”

  Nicholai’s brows furrowed together. Though he feared he knew the answer, he couldn’t help but ask. “What is done?”

  “I sent a prayer to the goddess Kekona.” The bitterness in his words let everyone know just how disgusted he felt with himself because of it. “I told her to bring Emont.”

  Lifting a hand, Nicholai forced his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve got an awful feeling about your tactics, Kazuaki …”

  “Shush up, Nico.” Brack stomped over to a fallen stump and climbed atop it to get a better view. “I hear somethin’. I think Granite’s little girlfriend might be back.” He laughed, pointing an accusing finger in the behemoth’s direction.

  Granite’s eyes narrowed. He glanced up the hill, in the direction of the noise. It sounded … rumbling. Clunky. Not the swift movements of a canine. “That is no wolf,” he murmured.

  “It ain’t?” Brack arched a brow and rubbed the back of his neck. “The feck is it then?” Turning his gaze outward, he spotted a dark-furred beast in the distance. A towering thing, with horns jutting out of the sides of its head.