“That sound was from a Novai?” Edie whispered. She was so short she barely came up to my shoulder, but my senses were so alert that I heard her easily. “I thought they screeched or something.”
She was right; the only Novai I had ever seen had been in the company of Kharid and another Elder whose name I didn’t know, and, when it had spoken, it had emitted an awful screech that had made the hairs on the back of my neck stand. I didn’t know the extent to which their vocals ranged, but I couldn’t imagine the same creature that was able to call out such a high-pitched note would also be able to create such a deep, soul-crushing roar as the one I’d heard.
“They do, I think,” I murmured back.
“I don’t think we should stay here,” said Antoinette nervously. She was a horse-faced woman in her mid-thirties from Albany, and, though I didn’t consider her a friend, I’d often regarded her as a capable nurse.
“We were told to stay here unless we see a Novai,” Edie protested, spinning around.
“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure that if we see a Novai, it will already be too late to run,” Antoinette pointed out.
Unexpected movement in my peripheral vision made me jump, and I whipped my gaze to see the towering Elder Kharid sweeping into the foyer. Though his face was tightened into a rather distressed expression, he strode calmly and smoothly, the hem of his floor-length indigo robe brushing the tile beneath his feet as he walked.
“Thank you for coming so quickly, kind healers,” he said graciously, stretching his hands out on either side of himself. “I regret the circumstances under which you find your first visit to my humble home.”
While I certainly wouldn’t have chosen the phrase “humble home” to describe the palace, Kharid’s relaxed demeanor soothed my prickling nerves slightly, and I felt the tension in my shoulders lessen. I hadn’t even realized I’d flexed my thigh muscles, prepared to sprint at the first sign of an eyeless monster until relief began to ripple through me.
The other nurses were exchanging anxious looks, but I didn’t want their silence to be interpreted as rude, so I responded. “Thank you for inviting us,” I said awkwardly. “But we’re not sure why we’re here, and our IAO just ran off after we heard a loud yell—”
“Yes, and I do apologize for both the lack of information as well as the outburst you involuntarily witnessed,” he said, lowering his head in traditional A’li-uud fashion. “I would explain everything to you now, but it seems Zuran is not the only one missing from your party, and it is of the utmost importance that we have every healer from your colony present.”
I shriveled my forehead in confusion at the mention of someone named Zuran before realizing that was likely the name of the IAO I found so attractive. It definitely sounded A’li-uud.
“I would be most delighted if you would allow me to escort you to the conservatory while we wait for the others,” he added, gesturing to the east with his arm.
Edie shifted uncomfortably at my side, and the nurses behind me continued with their silence. I wanted to ask more questions, to at least understand what caused the horrendous roar and sent the A’li-uud running with weapons drawn, but I didn’t want to offend the Elder. We’d probably find out when the rest of the medical staff arrived anyway.
“Sure,” I agreed. “Thanks.”
He smiled, revealing startlingly white teeth that appeared almost diamond-like against his deep blue skin. “Follow me, please.”
Edie encircled fingers around my forearm as we fell into step after him, and I could feel her pulse throbbing in her clammy palm.
“Does this mean we don’t have to worry about coming across any Novai?” she asked me quietly.
I opened my mouth to respond, but I didn’t have time. A lanky, spectral being burst into the room so fast it was like he’d been zapped into existence, and Edie’s nails raked my skin as her scream of terror split my eardrums in two. The Novai flung his head back as if it were on a hinge and let out a colossal, floor-quaking roar.
Chapter Five
Zuran
The last time I had sprinted through the palace, I had been in my early boyhood. The Elder of the time hosted an annual festival dedicated to second-born children and, as Venan was the older twin by mere minutes, that made me the second-born. Those of us honored were permitted to race through the palace on an exquisite scavenger hunt with prizes of rare speckled angui eggs.
As I ran through extravagant room after extravagant room, I felt transported back to the youthful thrill I had once felt, but there were no angui eggs at the end of this hunt. Instead, I was in pursuit of a diseased Novai who sounded as if he had gone out of his mind.
“How did he escape?” Venan snarled. He was just two steps ahead of me, but I heard him as clearly as if he were right beside me.
The guard who had fetched us was running with his spear tipped outward, prepared to strike at a moment’s notice. “He awoke on the stretcher and leaped up,” he furiously explained. “There was no warning to be had.”
“You thought it wise to leave him unrestrained?” I demanded in disbelief. My daggers were poised before me, one lifted to neck-level and the other hovering around my midsection. I, too, was prepared to attack if needed.
We ducked into the next room, a grand dining hall with a heavy table stretching nearly the entire length of the space. A mural was painted on the ceiling above to offer one the illusion of being outside, but the temperature within was quite comfortable rather than sultry, which marred the illusion slightly. I dodged a tall-backed chair that had been left turned from the table’s underside as the guard groaned, “He was asleep. We expected he would remain so.”
“Incompetent,” Venan hissed. For once, I was in agreement with my stiff-humored brother.
Then, just as ear-splitting as the first we had heard, another roar echoed throughout the entire home. I froze in place and tilted my head, hoping to decipher from whence the noise came, but Venan snagged my arm and yanked me forward.
“There is no time to stand idly by!” he scolded.
I tugged my arm from his grasp and glared. “I am not standing idly by. It seems more prudent to determine the Novai’s location by following his cries than to run about aimlessly, does it not?”
“The entire palace comes full-circle,” Venan argued. “We are certain to cross paths with him eventually.”
“Unless he manages to slip out, in which case you have unleashed an ill and dangerous Novai on all of Ka-lik’et.”
Venan paused, and I saw frustration curling his lips. “Fine,” he snapped. “We shall go about it your way, but it will be on your head if he harms anyone.”
The face of the beautiful flaxen-haired nurse flooded into my mind, followed by a terrible image of that lovely face lacerated and bloodied at the hands of the rogue Novai. I squared my shoulders and strode to the nearest load-bearing wall. As I pressed my ear to it, Venan made a noise of disgust in his throat, and the other guard furrowed his brow with incomprehension.
“You are useless,” Venan shot at me. “You are wasting time.”
“Have you forgotten the earliest days of your training already, brother?” I asked testily.
He stared at me, his cobalt skin flaring navy in his cheeks. “Of course I have not forgotten, and I certainly do not recall any part of training to include listening to walls in a crisis.”
“I am listening to the vibrations,” I contradicted. “A task that would be rather easier if you were to silence yourself for the briefest of moments, I might add.”
Venan’s mouth closed into a slim line, and he glared at me resentfully, but he quieted, and I closed my eyes to better hear. At the innermost part of the wall, I could hear gentle reverberations that shuddered throughout the construction. I took a slow step sideways without lifting my ear from the surface, and the vibrations deepened.
“East,” I affirmed, straightening up and turning to my two cohorts. “He is to the east.”
For the briefest of moments, Venan remained
still and silent, squinting at me suspiciously. The guard beside him was in awe with his mouth hanging open by a fraction and his slanted eyes wide. I shook my head and repeated the very phrase Venan had spoken degradingly:
“There is no time to stand idly by.”
He scowled but twisted and began to run again, and I clipped closely behind him on his heels. We rounded through the dining hall and skipped the kitchens entirely, instead focusing on the receiving parlor. Just as we entered the room, which was significantly less colorful and quite a bit more traditional with its shades of tobacco and cream, we heard not a third roar but a screech. It speared through me like a blade, slicing my senses into paralysis and forcing my knees to bend against my will. It was the screech of the Novai, the cry with which I had grown familiar since their Albaterran colonization, but it was sharper, higher, distinctly more visceral.
“Wise One!” Venan bellowed, streaking forward like a bolt of lightning.
Over his blurred shoulder, I saw the group of nurses huddled into a corner and, locked in hand-to-hand combat with the Novai, was Kharid. As an Elder, Kharid was considered just, merciful, and exceedingly friendly. Most of the Dhal’atian population had never seen him in battle. I had witnessed it once, many years ago, and he had been an adept and able soldier. Now, however, he was nothing short of a lethal force. His teeth were bared, his eyes slit, and an aura of power emanated from him as tangibly as the robe he wore. The sleeves had fallen back into the crevices of his elbows to reveal flexed forearms, and his fingers had become as white as his hair as he squeezed the pulse from the Novai’s throat.
Somehow, however, the creature was stronger. Its talon-like nails dug deep into Kharid’s flesh, and my Elder’s grip around the beast’s throat was of little efficacy if any. It continued to shriek without interruption, and its bloody lips leered with unperturbed malice.
Venan lunged forward. The tip of his blade met the Novai’s spine, and I saw it disappear through the assailant’s tunic. Suddenly, my heart stopped. I moved so quickly I was unable to see anything on either side of me, my vision becoming tunneled solely on my twin and my Elder.
“No!” I shouted. “You will kill Kharid, too!”
As the last syllable fell from my lips, however, Venan shoved the sword in as deeply as he could. It soared clean through the Novai, bursting forth from his chest, and burrowed into Kharid’s chest. Time stopped. Life stopped. I watched in horror as the beloved Elder of Dhal’at gasped, gurgled, and dropped to his knees.
Chapter Six
Phoebe
I didn’t notice the scream echoing around the room was mine until I tried to speak. Edie was sobbing into my shoulder, and several of the other nurses had turned their faces away entirely. As I saw Kharid kneeling backward, however, his blue cheeks waxen and his white eyes clouded, I felt the same call to action I’d felt hundreds—thousands—of times during shifts in the emergency room of Cleveland Memorial, and I flew into action.
“Edie!” I yelled over the hubbub that was emerging. “I need something to dress the wound! Something occlusive, and find tape or something to secure it with!”
My feet moved over the mosaic-style tile floor as if I had broken free from gravity’s hold. Zuran sprang to seize me around the waist and prevent me from nearing the Elder, but I threw him back with as much force as I could muster and dropped to Kharid’s side. The IAO said something urgently in A’li-uud to the unfamiliar guard nearby before grabbing me by the collar and pulling.
“A healer is being summoned!” he exclaimed. “Do not touch him!”
“You want him to die?” I snapped, reaching behind me to claw at his wrist. He released me but stepped forward, and I saw the guard he had commanded sprinting out of the palace.
“You are human,” he growled. “You know nothing of A’li-uud physiology.”
Deep, rich, mahogany blood was blooming across the chest of the luxurious indigo robe, and the wound was visible through the saturated, severed fabric. “I know enough,” I argued. “And I’m the best you’ve got right now, so get out of my way, or his death will be on your hands!”
The A’li-uud identical to Zuran, who was either a doppelganger or his twin brother, had frozen. The Novai was still skewered on his blade, limp and unmoving, but the A’li-uud had released the hilt in his astonishment and permitted the body to fall to the ground. He took no notice of the deceased creature at his feet; his milky eyes were pinned to Kharid in sheer, unadulterated shock.
“Toni, get him out of here!” I ordered to Antoinette, pointing at the stricken A’li-uud. Then, I rounded on Zuran again, who continued to hover over me with a torn expression on his fierce features. “You either need to back up and leave me alone or get down here and help me! I’m not kidding, Zuran! He’s going to die!”
Finally, the alien succumbed to my demands and fell to the ground beside me. I heard his knees crack against the tiles, but he didn’t flinch. “What do you need me to do?” he asked rigidly.
As he spoke, he leaned close to me, and I was overcome with an aroma I had never smelled before. It was like Ka-lik’et air; heady, savory, layered, and the Dhal’atian desert; zesty, warm, and delicate, and masculinity in its purest form all rolled into one. I was immediately famished and satiated as the odor permeated my nostrils, and I had to remind myself of the task at hand.
“I need you to get me something air-tight to dress his wound with,” I hastily said. Edie was scrambling around the room analyzing everything from curtains to cushion fabric, but she was basically useless, and I knew Zuran would prove more beneficial.
He got to his feet at once and disappeared from the room. The moment he was gone, I focused all of my attention on Kharid. Though he was clearly in the stages of dying, he was much warmer than I expected. It was my understanding that A’li-uud ran at a much higher temperature than humans, but I was still surprised to find he was practically hot to the touch. I pulled back his eyelids to reveal the ghostly irises beneath. They were distant, distracted, almost detached from reality, so much so that it was like opening the eyes of someone deep inside dreams.
“Kharid!” I cried, hoping to elicit any response I could from him. He didn't move. His eyes didn't even twitch with acknowledgment. I felt a rise of purpose within myself, a sensation I had become accustomed to working in the ER when encountering patients on death's door. If I was going to save the Elder, it would have to be now.
I wrapped my hands around the collar of his robes, and then, with all of my strength, I pulled. They tore away from him, slowly at first and then easier as the seconds passed until his chest was bare and I could clearly see the massive puncture from the sword's blade in the center of his pectorals. The wound was deep enough that I could see inside his body, see the muscles contracting, the blood flowing, and even a hint of ivory bone. I attempted to see if his chest was rising and falling with inhalations and exhalations, but either I was shaking too badly with the spirit of adrenaline coursing through me, or he wasn't breathing at all. I bent low over him, placing my ear beside his mouth, pulling his chin back to open his lips. I listened for even the slightest sound of breath, a simple gasp or even a hoarse shudder. I heard nothing.
As I opened my mouth to scream for Zuran, he reappeared. In his hand was a strange fabric I had never seen before, thick and waxen and woven so tightly that it appeared more like rubber than fabric. He tossed it to me before he reached me, and, when he dropped to his knees again by my side, he handed me a jar.
“What is this?” I asked, holding up the jar. As I did, I pressed the odd fabric to Kharid’s injury.
“It is a natural adhesive,” he told me. “I have seen the sticky strips you use in your infirmary. This is much better.”
I didn't question him, not because I believed him but because there simply wasn't time to argue the point. With my free hand, I dipped my finger into the jar and extracted a tarry, eggplant-purple substance on my fingertip. I looked at Zuran for instruction, and he made a motion as if I was to trace
the goop around the edge of the dressing. I did as he indicated.
“Put it on all the sides,” he said.
“No,” I disagreed. “One side needs to remain open.”
Suddenly, without warning, Kharid’s eyes flew open of their own accord. He let out a terrible rattling, coarse and gritty. For a moment, just a moment, his gaze met Zuran’s. Then, his eyes closed once more, and he became motionless.
Chapter Seven
Zuran
Dhal’at at night was very different than Dhal’at during the day. The temperature dropped to a prickling chill, the sky became so dark it was impossible for one to see further than a few feet ahead, and the only sounds that could be heard were within the walls of Ka’lik-et. It was peaceful and serene, but it was also unarguably ominous, as if one could expect to find demons lingering behind the star-reaching sand dunes that dotted the desert landscape.
In my opinion, there were plenty of demons to be found.
Elder Kharid was gone. Despite the ministrations of the human nurse, whose name I later learned to be Phoebe—how strange, and despite the best efforts of the healer when he arrived, it was too late. Our Elder had passed, and the kingdom was stricken with darkness and grief.
After he had been pronounced dead, I left. I did not bother to ask or take the humans back to the infirmary, nor did I wait to speak with Venan or other warriors. I had never felt the unconditional devotion to Kharid as Venan had, but I had revered my Elder for his goodness, his loyalty to his people, and his moral ground. To have him die at my side, the last eyes he saw mine, was a trauma I was wholly unprepared to handle. I slipped from the palace, leaving the nurses and Venan and the corpse of the Novai unattended, and I went to the only solace I knew, the very same solace I had sought earlier.
Zuran: A Paranormal Sci-Fi Alien Romance: Albaterra Mates Book 6 Page 3