Hold on. He continued to suck in the dark beast. The last of the spirit rushed forward as fireworks burst behind his eyelids.
His lungs filled once more with oxygen. Jaron's hand gripped the edge of the pit, and he pushed himself away until his back rested against the cool wall.
A crawling sensation started inside his skull. His hands scratched at his scalp, but the crawling tendrils of motion were under the skin, inside the bone, and deep in his brain.
The vile itch sent shooting pains into every part of his body. Legs, arms, and fingers twitched as the demon tried to move them according to his will.
Jaron called on every bit of magical discipline he had to retain power over his body. He made himself sit still and breathe while he concentrated on living in his body. There must be no room for the demon other than the small space Jaron had set aside in his mind.
When the creature moved into that area, it pulled all of Jaron's nightmares from his memory and replayed them over and over.
Memories of his return to a devastated world—the charred remains of his home. The demon fed him every fear and moment of loneliness and despair from his past. The tears flowed freely, but Jaron's training had been thorough.
He held onto the most precious memory of his life. It alone prevented him from giving in to the darkness that threatened to fill his body and mind. He remembered the look in Betyia's eyes on the day their son was born. That feeling of love and completeness would always be with him. In life, she'd been his savior; in death, she kept him whole.
Eventually the demon settled down in a corner, content with the promise of freedom from the depths of the earth. Jaron stood on shaky legs and retrieved the book from the shelf. The candle had long since burned out. He searched in his pack for another, lit it, and made his way out of the cave.
Back to the sunlight.
It was a high price to pay—his soul—but the demon would prolong his life and give him the strength he needed to carry out his revenge.
Chapter 1: The Planet Sendek—Today
A third vehicle carrying Space Exploration Foundation equipment had been attacked. The sleek bullet-shaped tram lay crumpled beside the track and spread across half a mile of protected lands like a serrated accordion. Its silver exterior had been marred by scorches and patches of the thick orange foam used to put out the flames. The last car in line had been flayed open. Its contents carried away while those guarding it had been left in a bloody heap in the corner. The terrorists had left forty people dead. All for the acquisition of military grade communications technology.
"There's another reason to stop traveling for the SEF." Talia rubbed the stone necklace resting at her throat.
She couldn't look at the bodies any longer. Instead, she focused on the surrounding wilderness. Trees, grass, everything near the tracks had been burned. The reporter rambled on about the environmental disaster as if no one had lost their lives.
Talia was relieved when the news feed was interrupted by the house computer, "Incoming call, SEF President Cahal."
Talia stood and smoothed her hair back. "Accept call."
The disturbing images were replaced by a gray-haired man in his sixties, sitting at a desk overflowing with books and papers. His normally kind face looked ashen.
"Miss Zaryn, are you watching the news nets?"
"Yes, sir."
He nodded. "The program has taken a hit that puts us months, maybe a year behind schedule."
"I can begin work on another satellite as soon as the parts are delivered."
"Not this time. The board has decided it would be safer to bring you here. The parts are waiting, and this time you'll have a skilled team to help. I've purchased a ticket from Gneledar to Joharadin for nine rising tomorrow. Your apartment will be ready by the time you arrive."
Her knees weakened. She leaned against the back of the couch for support. Her vision blurred, and then she remembered to breathe.
"I can't move to Joharadin."
"Sure you can. You've traveled to other locations for us, and it's about time you stayed here for a while. Who knows, maybe we'll finally convince you to make this your permanent home."
It would be permanent all right. Death always was. She squeezed the couch tighter to keep her hands from trembling. There was no way out of it and no way to explain. At least not in a way a man of science could understand or accept, but Cahal had given in to her before. She had to try one more time.
"Sir, I've always worked remotely from my living room. There's no need for me to move to Joharadin."
"Miss Zaryn, getting you here is about more than a few attacks and setbacks. The Royalists are making a big deal out of this. They've started an investigation into the SEF because they think we're leaking critical information to some unnamed terrorist group."
"You know I'm not the leak. I don't have access to transport details."
"It doesn't matter what I think. The Royalists insist every member of the team be present in a face-to-face presentation." Cahal clasped his hands in front of him and leaned toward her from his desk. "That includes you. Either you move here for the next year of your own free will, or the Royalists will arrest you and drag you here anyway."
"Yes, Sir." Her shoulders drooped. "Cahal, can I ship a personal project as well?"
"You can send anything you like, as long as you're on that tram tomorrow. Unless I can convince you to take an aeroflyer?" His eyebrows lifted in hope.
Talia sighed, "I'll be on the tram. You know I prefer to stay close to the ground."
"You're going to have to get over that. The environmentalists have been trying to phase out the tram lines for years, and these attacks have added fuel to their cause. The aeroflyers will soon be the only way to travel."
"I'll cross that bridge when I have to."
"Very well. I'm meeting you myself, so there's no backing out. I'll come all the way to Gneledar before I let the Royalists bring you in." He winked at her and let the ghost of a smile twitch the corners of his lips. With a wave of his hand the SEF's emblem replaced his image.
Talia collapsed on the couch and stared at the phoenix rising into a star filled sky. After a moment, the screen shut off and she rested her head in her hands. Joharadin, capital of Algodova. She had good reason to stay as far away from the city as possible but no way to explain them to Cahal. Sometimes he exuded a grandfatherly attitude toward her, but he was still a man of science. Talk of prophetic dreams would not go over well, especially as an excuse.
A small furry creature shot from under the table and bounced onto her lap. He nuzzled his way under her arm until his head rested under her hand. Talia stroked his back and fluffy tail. With each movement he fanned his tail wider and purred in contentment.
"You always know how to make me smile. Don't worry, you're coming with me." She stared into his bulging black eyes that swiveled back and forth. "Maybe I should set you free instead?"
Keeta trilled, spun in a circle, and lay down in her lap. With a laugh, she set him on the couch. She could never leave him behind.
"Raise blinds." She spoke the command and the house computer obeyed.
She rose from the couch and walked to the window. The trees blocked the view of the city, but she knew it was there. Her hometown.
Generally, she welcomed traveling to other places for the SEF. The weeks and months in the company of co-workers offered a semblance of a social life not available at home. But not Joharadin. Just the thought of the city from her nightmares caused her skin to crawl and her heart to race. A dull ache formed behind her eyes and she rubbed at her temple.
The light from Sendek's double suns filtered through the trees and into her living room. Flecks of gold danced with the shimmery green across the floor. The movement imitated her nerves. It was already starting.
I'll dream tonight. Talia sent her thoughts out to the trees and waited for their answer. Keeta's head popped up as if he listened as well.
We will be here when you do. The trees sang bac
k.
A wave of comfort washed over her. She relished it as she turned away from the peaceful view to pack her things. The satellite in the spare room needed to be disassembled and sorted into crates. She also needed to gather her clothes, which she did while trying not to think of her nightmares. How many times had she worn the red outfit in them? Perhaps she should leave it and pack something she had never worn in the dream? Would that give her a better chance of escaping fate?
In the end, she stuffed shirts and slacks in the bag without looking at them. It wouldn't matter anyway. One time she recycled all of her clothes, purchased new ones, and then dreamed about each outfit over the course of two months. The dreams changed to fit whatever she owned.
The last thing she did before crawling into bed was set out a pen and her journal. When the vision came she would be ready to record it. Keeta curled up at her feet, and Talia hoped this time she could change the end of her nightmare.
Death lurked in the shadows. Talia's shaking fingers clenched into a fist.
Where's the door to the library?
Her breath came in shallow bursts as she ran beneath the circles of light cast by the bulbs dangling from the ceiling. The dim glow reflected off the water filling the hall as she splashed through the underground tunnel.
I have to find it before I wake. She ran her hands along the stone wall, bits of dirt and moss crumbling with her touch. There was no sign of the door.
The cold seeped through her blouse and she shivered. The ache in her chest felt real enough. Her confidence that this was the dream wavered until the two men stumbled into view.
Long black robes hung heavy around their legs. The men paused in a circle of light while the fatter of the two gasped for breath. He leaned against to the side, ready to collapse.
No, not yet. Talia slapped the stone wall.
"I need more time," she screamed down the corridor, but the men ignored her.
They always did.
Her mouth moved in sync with the man's words, "It's too late. They're here."
Her body reacted immediately. Dream or not, her heartbeat quickened as three huge creatures walked out of the shadows. They moved in silence, barely disturbing the water with their smooth motion. Two legs, but definitely not human.
The creatures towered over the men by several feet. They had elongated faces traced with ridgelines surrounding yellow-green eyes. The ridges accented a muscular thickness that lined the shoulders and neck. Their skin had a peculiar opalescent sheen making it hard to decide the color in the weak lighting, but she knew from other dreams it was the green of summer leaves flecked with spring hues.
Talia had dubbed them Scalies during her childhood years. Now as an adult, they still evoked a hopeless dread deep within her.
Calm down. The silent mantra did nothing for her nerves. Every particle of her being ached to run.
"There is no escape from the Dragumon." One Scaly glared at the men.
Talia stiffened. Dragumon? Is that their name?
They had never spoken before. The deeply accented voice resonated to her core, but a grating harshness lay under the bass tones. Fighting the urge to run, she inched along the wall toward escape.
The Scaly pointed his staff-like pole at the two men and fired the laser weapon. The tunnel glowed red-orange, burning their deaths into her memory—fire and scorched bones. She hung her head as their ashes floated past her. How many times had she watched similar scenes?
"Now we will take care of our other problem."
Talia's head snapped up in time to see the red light rushing toward her. She gasped, flinging her arms up.
She was back in her own bed.
Stupid. Flesh doesn't block plasma weapons.
She stared at the ceiling and tried to catch her breath. Every muscle in her body tensed and cramped from the urge to run. Her skin burned. She knew it was turning an angry red. If she was lucky, she wouldn't get blisters this time.
Keeta crawled up to the pillow beside her and whimpered.
"Sorry to wake you." It came out a whisper.
Keeta wiggled his backside at the sound of her voice and moved in to lick her face. Talia's arms and legs twitched as they relaxed. The feverish heat drained into the air, leaving only sticky cold perspiration. Then came the shivering she could never control. She closed her eyes and waited for the shaking to stop, trying to concentrate on the little tongue licking its way down her arm. Sometimes Keeta's saliva eased the ache of cuts and scrapes she received from the dream, but she doubted it would help the blistering.
This nightmare had always been a part of her life. Although the locations and method of death changed, each dream took place within one city—Joharadin. Talia had accepted she would never be free from the visions until the Scalies found her or she found them. It might be pointless, but she would keep searching for clues. This one had brought a new piece of information she could record.
"Lights." She flinched as the lights flared on. "Dim fifty percent." The room automatically adjusted to the command.
The leather journal waited on the bedside table. It was cool in her hands as she hugged it close for a moment. She flipped through and glanced at the other dreams she had recorded. The last time she stood in that particular tunnel she had found a secret library. Unfortunately, the Scalies, no, the Dragumon, found her before she could read any of the ancient texts on the shelves. Talia turned to a new page. She wrote the day, time, and setting before writing:
Tonight they spoke. They called themselves the Dragumon. What's more, it seems they are aware of me. Perhaps searching for me? Whatever the case, they think I'm a problem. One they won't have any trouble disposing of.
A new shaking started. In twenty-eight years of dreaming she had never considered they might be hunting her. She let Keeta crawl under the blanket to curl up next to her. His soft fur and rhythmic breathing continued to calm her while she tried to ignore the way the sheet chaffed her tender skin.
"The sunsrise won't come soon enough."
Keeta sighed, and Talia knew he was already asleep. She held him close and waited. He might calm her spirit, but only the energy from Sendek's binary suns could heal her body.
Dressed in unrelieved black, Jaron moved from one shadow to the next as he walked down the line of indistinct buildings. Three moons glimmered above the almost deserted street, but the crowded skyline blocked most of their light. He reached a passage between two skyscrapers and slipped out of sight.
Within the alley, he brushed aside some trash and uncovered a manhole.
"Just where he said it would be."
He checked his watch, scanned the entrance to the street, and waited by the hatch. At twenty minutes after the hour, the cover rotated and lifted away from the hole exposing an illuminated stairway leading under the street. He slid into the opening, found his footing and climbed down, pausing long enough to watch the cover move back into place above him.
A man waited at the bottom of the stairs, also dressed in black. He was at least a decade older than the skin Jaron wore as a disguise. His hard expression matched his military hair cut.
"While we are underground you may address me as Ruin. Were you tailed?"
"No. I followed every precaution you gave me." Jaron licked his lips. The air tasted stale and smelled of mold.
He noticed Ruin had a small red dragon embroidered on his tunic. A smile formed at the sight of the dragon, but he masked it by looking around. They stood in a circular room cut out of the rock beneath the city streets. It spanned six or seven feet across, with one door carved into the wall opposite the stairs. The ceiling loomed thirty feet above him at street level. He took all of this in at a glance and returned his attention to Ruin.
"What you are about to see is part of a seven-thousand-year vigil. Very few people know the true nature of our group, so the penalty for betrayal is very high. Do you understand?"
"Of course," Jaron murmured.
"The Elders have gathered everyone for a rally.
As part of the group, you listen and keep your mouth shut. You are an entry-level foot soldier. In order to rise among the ranks you need to prove your loyalty."
"I understand." Jaron lowered his head just enough to show his willingness to obey, but not enough to look weak. It was a well-practiced movement.
The two men walked down a stone tunnel lit with lights that hung from the ceiling every five feet or so. Jaron stretched out his hand and fingered the cold smoothness of the walls. He could feel the indentions left by the chisels used to carve the tunnel out of the rocky earth.
Ruin unlocked a large metal door and they stepped into an underground cave. The cavern held several hundred men and women standing side by side. Everyone faced a platform at the far end of the room where five middle-aged men sat. They also wore long black robes with red dragons embroidered on them.
"Wait here. Selvan Werner will speak soon." Ruin left him to walk around the crowd toward the platform.
As soon as Ruin left, Jaron pushed his way into the crowd moving closer to the stage. A large-bellied, gray-haired man stood and the room erupted in cheers. He lifted his arms to silence the crowd. Jaron assumed he was Werner.
"We are The Signum! In ancient times, we gathered all the wisdom needed to tame the mighty dragon, and we've waited for the chance to do the same with their spawn. For seven thousand years, we have waited patiently. Children of the Signum, the time has come!" The crowd once again broke into cheers.
Jaron pushed his way through the throng of sweaty bodies toward the front of the room. He could feel the heat rising as the mob mentality continued to build. People shifted their weight around, ready for action. Fists clenched and unclenched.
"The dragons may be gone, but their legacy has returned." The room erupted in hissing, but Werner spoke over it. "With the communications technology we've stolen from the Royalists, we made contact. We will use the Dragumon to move us to power, and then we will destroy them."
Stellar Cloud: A short story collection Page 5