Old Secrets (The Survivors Book Thirteen)

by Nathan Hystad

  I stifled a laugh and nodded. “Sure, Walo. You can join us. Everyone ready?”

  We entered the portal room, and before we left, my thoughts drifted to Jules. I’d said my goodbyes, and considering they were about to head to the next world holding a Deity, where they expected to meet Patty and the other Zan’ra boy, she’d been oddly calm about it.

  When we were in position around the table, Rivo activated the portal, sending us to Bazarn Five. We transported instantly, and I was glad Lom hadn’t chosen to drop by for an uninvited visit in the void. I didn’t want to waste time on that today, not when we were growing closer to solving this puzzle.

  Bazarn’s Shandra room was as ornate as ever, a regal entryway to the most luxurious vacation planet. I’d been through a lot on this world. Lom had attacked while I’d first met Rivo’s father, Garo. I’d met Regnig here, deep underground, and Jules had realized how powerful she was as someone attempted to blow up the Peaks of Duup resort after Garo’s funeral.

  “Dean, you okay?” Slate asked as we walked toward the exit.

  “I’m fine. Just thinking about Bazarn. Lots of memories.” The guards were the same race as they’d always been, huge and growling.

  They weren’t the same ones I’d grown to befriend. Those two had moved to Magnus’ ship Horizon, meaning they’d been killed along with the rest of the crew seven months ago.

  This duo let us pass the moment they spotted Rivo behind Slate. She was essentially royalty here, and we entered the next room, a quiet foyer leading outside by a wide set of stairs.

  We exited, ending at the promenade, and it was clear that commerce was in full swing on Bazarn Five once again. People of all shapes and sizes lingered about, walking in groups, talking amongst one another as they sought transport to the resort of their choice. It was a nice sight, but for now I was on alert, scanning the area for signs of any Padlog.

  Sergo leaned in, talking over the crowd. “We’re going to move into position. It wouldn’t do us any good to be seen here with you, because if I know Foral, she’s watching.”

  I nodded, sending the two Padlog on their way. Slate went ahead, cutting a trail for the rest of us through the crowd of people. I was wearing casual clothing, and had strapped a pulse pistol around my hip. While it wasn’t stiflingly hot out, the pressure of bodies around us caused me to sweat, and I finally breathed easier as we neared the edge of the promenade.

  “It’s busy today,” I told Rivo.

  “Good news for the economy, but I’m not seeing my shuttle anywhere.” She scanned the parking lot, and I saw nothing marking her private Alnod Industries transportation.

  The smells of various food markets wafted through the air, and I heard at least four different music types from vendors outside the promenade. The restaurants were busy, and I glanced at one across from us with people on a rooftop patio, enjoying the sun. The place had a carnival feel, reminding me of Pier Thirty-nine at San Francisco. If we were on Earth, it would have been full of blinking lights, freshly popped corn, and cotton candy.

  Someone bumped into me, nearly knocking me over, and before I could turn to the offender, I spotted Sergo pacing toward us. His gaze locked with mine, and he gave a slight shake of his head. He was afraid.

  “Something’s wrong,” I whispered to Slate, but he was looking in the other direction. I tapped him on the shoulder. “Slate, Sergo’s coming.” I pointed, and he saw the gun the same moment as I did. Slate shoved me out of the way as the blast raced past us, striking a parked hoverbike.

  A shuttle lowered directly behind us, causing a group of tourists to scatter, and the door opened, revealing an armed Padlog. Slate moved to track his pulse rifle, but the enemy shook his head as five armed attackers circled around our team. They shoved Sergo and Walo between us, and a Padlog woman with the face of a spider walked forward.

  “Drop the weapons,” she said, her fangs waving slightly.

  “Boss, what do you want to do?” Slate asked, still gripping his gun. Loweck was tense beside him, and I knew it was eating her alive to not attack them. I didn’t doubt she could disarm a few of the enemy before being overthrown, but now wasn’t the time for heroics.

  “Foral, I presume?” I asked, stepping toward her.

  She spun her long gun around, jabbing it into my stomach. I keeled over, gasping for breath, and heard Slate struggle with someone. I reached for my pistol and was knocked to the ground as Foral clubbed the back of my head. I hit the concrete, and everything went black.

  Fourteen

  Boria was dead. Jules stepped from the cavern where the Shandra remained hidden, and balked at the gray-brown landscape. A strong wind carried over the emptiness, bringing a chill, a bitter sensation through her bones.

  “What is this place?” Dean asked, and she saw the reflection of the desolate land through his helmet’s facemask.

  “This is Boria, but it’s a far cry from the world I remember.” Dal’i walked up and out of the crevasse, leading them to higher ground. She stopped as soon as they were on the flat earth and slowly took in the setting.

  “What was it like before?” Dean asked.

  “Lively. There were no people to interfere with nature, but the land was full of animals. The ecosystem was healthy and hearty. The trees rose high into the sky, the grass was deep and dark. Can it be that I’ve been away this long?” Dal’i wasn’t in a sphere or an EVA, but she had no problem breathing, so Jules removed her own protective energy barrier, taking the advice the Zan’ra had offered in the past week. She’d been training Jules to do simple tasks, wondrous things Jules had never thought even a Zan’ra could accomplish.

  At times, the orange-eyed girl seemed like a peer, another teenager with nothing but boys and clothing to think about, but now she was ancient, her voice different, her posture bearing the weight of millennia. Would Jules live forever? Would she want to?

  Dal’i turned toward Jules, eyes streaming with tears, and Jules grasped her hand, keeping hold of it. “Ja’ri, what have I been doing? Clinging to some archaic hope that we could correct what was once wronged? I’ve wasted so many years. The others were right to seal themselves away. O’ri never expected to return to life. The Deities know Ja’ri wanted to stay preserved forever.”

  “Why?” Jules asked her. “Why did Ja’ri do it?”

  Dal’i met Jules’ stare, her eyes burning hot orange. “You don’t want to know. We all have secrets we live with, terrible things we’ve done. The Deities may have been right.”

  Jules shivered. The Zan’ra girl suddenly sounded like an elderly woman. “I deserve the truth.”

  “You want to hear what Ja’ri did? The races she devoured? The planets she destroyed in an effort to stop the Deities? Is that something you can handle?” Dal’i shouted, and Jules fell back like she’d been slapped. Dean caught her, his arms supportive and strong.

  He whispered in her ear. “Ja’ri’s not you, Ju. You’re not the same.”

  But she was. Jules had destroyed the Sprites. She’d done the same to the Arnap. The races she devoured. Perhaps she was Ja’ri, only reborn.

  “What about this place? What happened to it?” Dean asked, pointing to the immense clay-like ground ahead of them.

  “I don’t know. Maybe the Deity trapped here is leaking, sending poison throughout. I closed off this world a long time ago so that none could visit it. I couldn’t risk anyone stumbling upon the god.”

  “And Desolate… I mean, Uleera?” Jules used the name Dal’i had given her for the Zan’ra homeworld.

  “It’s not supposed to be open either. How did you access it?” Dal’i asked.

  Jules hadn’t thought of it. She’d been compelled to visit, but the truth was, she’d never attempted to bring anyone else there. “I’m not sure.”

  “Come. Let’s find our buried enemy and wait for the others. I sense them closing in,” Dal’i said. She’d tried to show Jules how to use her projection abilities. It also allowed her to track someone, at least by a feeling, if
not by empirical data. So far, Jules had been unable to feel anything from Patty and Lan’i, even if Dal’i claimed to.

  Jules threw her sphere up, circling it around Dean. It had taken a lot of persuading for Dal’i to permit Dean to join them, but in the end, she’d agreed he couldn’t mess anything up. She glanced at the pair of them with something close to contempt as she rose from the ground, no energy visible around her, and Dal’i raced forward faster than Jules thought possible.

  She chased after the girl, the landscape below rushing by in a brown blur.

  “I don’t like it here,” Dean grumbled.

  “Neither do I,” Jules assured him, moving higher into the sky, tracing after the Zan’ra’s movements ahead of her. The ground arced over the horizon, with no landmarks to go by.

  “I don’t see any water,” Dean said.

  She scoured below, slowing slightly to see the view. It was nothing but an expanse of rock and beige dirt. She continued on, and in a few minutes she began to see the start of a peak in the distance. As they grew closer the mountain became larger, until Jules was sure the thing had to reach through the atmosphere.

  “We’re going up there?” Dean asked. The clouds hung around the midway point of the peaks, four jagged points connecting near the base. The Four.

  She lifted them through the thin clouds, dampness dripping from her sphere as they broke through, moving for the top of the mountains. Dal’i was already there when Jules arrived, standing on the precipice of the rocky top.

  Jules landed them on the flat top, which was only a few meters wide, and stood near the middle, a wave of vertigo threatening her vision. Dean remained still, staring over Dal’i’s shoulder, and Jules caught the view he was quieted by. The planet curved here from this high vantage point, making the view of Boria a pleasant one, despite the boring and mundane landscape. From here, Jules felt what it must mean to be a god, to mold worlds and people, to change futures.

  “Where’s the Deity?” Dean asked, breaking the silence.

  Dal’i stepped to the edge of the platform, pointing down. Jules hesitantly moved there, peering over the side to see the coffin fifty meters below, four chains mounting it to each of the four mountain peaks.

  “Isn’t this a little dramatic?” Jules asked.

  “This was O’ri’s work.” Dal’i looked to the sky. “The others are near. The Four will be together again.”

  Jules stared at her, then peered at the clouds. She was nervous to hear that Patty and the other boy were coming, but that had been the plan all along. It didn’t change the fact that she wasn’t ready to face off against them.

  Jules pointed at the coffin over the cliff and focused on it. “O’ri did this one?”

  She nodded. “Mine is beneath the tree. You placed one under the water on Uleera.”

  “And Lan’I’s is the one I heard about in the Golnex system?” Jules guessed.

  “That’s right. One for each of us. O’ri was the most dramatic, though I’ve always appreciated your work too.” Dal’i grinned for the first time since they’d arrived on Boria.

  The chains held the long box up, but the heavy wind shook it from side to side, rattling the metallic bonds. “Can you speak with it?” Dean asked.

  Jules closed her eyes, willing it to talk with her. Hello, Deity. I am Jules, but you may recognize me as Ja’ri. I’d like to speak with you. The other Zan’ra wanted nothing more than to keep them imprisoned, but Jules was sensing an alteration from Dal’i over the last week. Being around people again seemed to be changing her.

  “Anything?” Dal’i asked, but Jules told her there was nothing.

  They sat on the rocky mountaintop, staring over the world like guardians of a dead planet.

  Jules decided to investigate, to take matters into her own hands, and she tapped Dean on the shoulder, gaining his attention. “I’ll be right back.”

  He glanced toward the edge and nodded his understanding. “Be careful.”

  “I will.” She hovered, moving toward the opening between the mountain peaks, and lowered toward the hanging coffin. Was the Deity sleeping inside? Was it aware, awake, slowly going mad by the thousands upon thousands of years being contained?

  At last, you’ve come.

  The voice was powerful, low and deep. Jules floated above the wooden case, peering at it from her perch. “I’m here.”

  Do the others know? it asked.

  “The other Deities?”

  Your true self. Do they know?

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  It laughed, a booming sound in her eardrums. She felt the blood falling from her nose and ears again, but didn’t react. Free me. I will explain. You are special.

  “You want to kill the Zan’ra. What will happen if I do free you?” Jules asked.

  You will not be harmed. We will strip them of their powers. We make the same agreement we made before.

  Jules reeled at the words. “You offered this to them before they sealed you away?”

  We offered it before they killed their own. The Four dealt destruction to the Zan’ra. They must be stopped.

  The Four? “You’re saying the Four killed their own people?” Jules was appalled and glanced up. She was still alone here.

  Child… remember…

  A gust shook the coffin, and something poured from the wood, an inky black mist entering Jules’ sphere. She inhaled, and it filled her.

  Ja’ri smiled at her work. The Zan’ra were gone. At first, they’d listened to Lan’i’s suggestion of creating burial shrouds near the Shandra, but eventually, the others saw her side and stopped helping him. She stared toward the lake far from the city, knowing Lan’i was occupied, moving the bodies of their people. He was weak. They were all weak.

  Ja’ri was the only one who could lead, who could prevent their deaths. The Four would become one, when she was finished sealing the damned Deities away. For that, she needed their strength.

  The city still burned, and she could smell the singed flesh of her people.

  She smiled, elation filling her bones, and she clapped her hands, bringing her to the ocean. The others arrived seconds later, staring at the box. It shook and rattled the chains binding it, but the god was trapped.

  Ja’ri lifted it with nothing but her thoughts, and plunged the coffin into the raging whitecaps. A storm brewed, a last-ditch effort of self-preservation from the Deity, but it was pointless. He was done.

  Jules’ eyes snapped open, and she panted, disgust filling her. “That isn’t me!” she shouted, wanting to shoot the essence of the evil Zan’ra from her body.

  I know.

  “Then why do they all think of me as Ja’ri?” Jules asked.

  A shadow emerged from the coffin, filling the air in front of her. It took a form with two strong arms, two strong legs, an elongated head, and something similar to fins jutting from its neck. We had one last gift, left on Lainna.

  “Lainna? I don’t recall where that is,” Jules admitted, and the shadow flashed, an image subsequently burned into her mind. Colorful shards, crystals and gemstones. “The crystal world. That’s where my mom was possessed by the Iskios.”

  I know nothing of that trivial point in our timeline. We guided you there to free us.

  Jules trembled, listening to the words. “Are you saying… I’m not a Zan’ra?”

  In a sense. You were made to give the impression of the one they call Ja’ri. They would trust you, show you our resting places. You are to free us.

  Jules couldn’t believe her ears. It was too much to take. After what they’d been through, she’d just learned she wasn’t some terrible Iskios creation. Then she’d been part of something, a Zan’ra; at long last she’d discovered she belonged. Now she’d learned they were evil, and she wasn’t one of them after all.

  “If I’m not Zan’ra, what am I?” she asked.

  The shadow grew, filling the void between the mountains. It laughed, as if she’d told the universe’s funniest joke. You are one
of us.

  Blasts of orange, purple, and blue cascaded from above her, striking the shadow. It shrieked, hissing and evaporating into the coffin. Dal’i arrived beside her, still firing a wave of energy at the wooden casket. More purple and blue shot from overhead, and Jules saw the forms of the missing Zan’ra.

  “Patty!” she shouted.

  “Come. We have much to discuss,” Dal’i said, urging Jules to follow.

  They landed on the flat peak, and Patty settled to the ground near her brother. “Dean!” she said, wrapping her arms around him.

  Dean hesitated for a moment, as if this were a dream, but eventually picked her up, spinning around in a circle. “Patty, you’re here.”

  She looked older, her lighter hair long and pulled into a top bun. She wore a dark uniform with silver accents. Lan’i’s outfit matched, and he ran over, excitedly greeting Dal’i.

  Jules ran over to Patty, taking her hands. “Are you in there? Is it you?” she asked.

  Patty rolled her eyes. “God, you’re always so dramatic. Of course it’s me.”

  Dean spoke, keeping his voice low. “How could you do this?”

  “What? Lan’i told me about the gods breaking free, and how he couldn’t seal them away without my help. I helped. No biggie,” she said.

  Dean’s arms flew in the air. “No biggie! You disappeared for seven months and never sent a damned message to Mom or me? No biggie?” He was shouting, and Jules set a hand on his shoulder.

  “Mom and Dad are busy, and you’re having fun with Jules on Light. I didn’t think you’d care that much,” Patty said, acting like the spoiled selfish kid she was.

  Dean looked ready to explode, so Jules stepped between them. She still hadn’t had time to process what the Deity had just told her, but she could later. Now she had some news to deliver. “Patty… your dad…”

  “What about him?” she asked, eyes big and glowing purple.

  “He’s dead.”

  ____________

  My head pounded fiercely, and I blinked my eyes five times to clear some of the cobwebs. The room was bright, too light for my current headache. I glanced around, seeing I was alone in the cell.