Savant & Feral (Digital Boxed Set): Books 1 and 2 of the Epic Luminether Fantasy Series

by Richard Denoncourt

  Sevarin voiced the thought for him.

  “Milo. It has to be Milo.”

  CHAPTER 39

  “J ust concentrate,” Lily said.

  She and Emma were sitting on the floor of their dorm room, facing each other, Emma with her eyes closed and her fingers pressed to her temples.

  “I’m trying,” Emma said.

  “You can do it, sis.”

  Emma wasn’t so sure. She had never been able to use her Sight at will. In the darkness behind her eyelids, all she saw were dull flashes of light. They flickered in a strangely familiar way, like a thunderstorm.

  Milo’s face appeared at one point, followed by a flash that revealed water coating his skin and soaking his hair. Emma described what she saw and opened her eyes.

  “Strange,” Lily said. She hugged her knees and stared blankly down at the carpet, toes curling and uncurling. “Maybe Milo’s caught in a storm somewhere. Or it’s symbolic in some way.”

  “Or it’s just my brother getting a thrill. He always liked thunder and rain.” She shrugged. “He’s sort of weird that way.”

  “Was he reaching up?”

  Emma winced a little at her friend. “Why?”

  “Just a thought. Try it again. Maybe you’ll see more.”

  Emma sighed. They had been at this for an hour now, and she was getting tired.

  “Okay. Give me a sec.”

  She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began to massage her temples. The same visions played in the darkness. Her brother’s face was the same, shiny from what appeared to be rain falling against him in sheets. Emma did her best to pan out, like a camera taking in a wider view. She only got far enough to see Milo’s shoulder, twisted back, the arm extended…

  “You’re right.” She opened her eyes and blinked at Lily. “It’s like he’s reaching up.”

  Lily curled her toes hard enough to pop several of the joints. Her eyes lit up with an idea.

  “What is it?” Emma asked, leaning forward.

  “Maybe Milo isn’t caught in a thunder storm. Maybe he is the storm.”

  Emma frowned. “If he’s casting a spell on campus, he could get a warning.”

  Three warnings, Emma knew, would lead to probation. Spells more powerful than Tier One were not allowed on campus unless it was under direct supervision. Milo had already received two warnings—delivered impersonally to his Araband’s inbox—for the fireball spell he’d cast inside the train, and again for the spell he had used to bring the lake to a boil.

  An abrupt, musical noise made Lily and Emma shudder. It was coming from their Arabands, which had gone off at the same time, playing the distinctive, three-note melody of an incoming call.

  “Maybe that’s him,” Lily said.

  They jumped to their feet and slipped their bands on their foreheads, both tapping the crystal at the same time. A moment later, they were staring at two floating displays. Milo’s face was on Lily’s, his features dark beneath the night sky. His hair shivered wildly in the powerful current sweeping over him. On Emma’s display, Sevarin wore an alarmed expression visible in the seedy interior light of a Wingcab.

  “Lily,” Milo said, “find Emma and get out of there.”

  “Emma, you and Lily need to run,” Sevarin said.

  Horrified, Emma and Lily could only stare at each other in silence.

  The door to their room banged open, startling them again. Owen stood at the threshold, his face agleam with sweat and his chest heaving from each excited breath.

  “Guys,” Owen said, “we’ve gotta talk.”

  He slipped in and shut the door, then dropped his voice to a whisper. Lily and Emma stared at him in silence, and so did Milo and Sevarin.

  “I know where they took Barrel,” Owen said. “We need to get out of here. They might come for us next.”

  “I’ll get my staff,” Lily said.

  “I’ll meet you all by the lake,” said Milo, before vanishing.

  Lily dashed toward her closet. Sevarin urged his Wingcab driver to hurry up, and the man yelled something back at him, starting an argument. Emma stood helplessly in the center of the room, watching as Lily threw open drawers containing her underwear and socks. The room buzzed with activity and angry voices.

  Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and shouted her next words into the room.

  “Will somebody please tell me what the heck is going on?”

  CHAPTER 40

  Emma, Lily, and Owen arrived at the lake just as Milo and Zander were touching down. The sky was a deep purple with an extravagant array of stars and a crescent moon, no hint whatsoever of the rain and thunderstorm Milo had experienced. As he dismounted, Emma saw a strange blankness in her brother’s eyes that she hadn’t noticed before.

  “Milo.” She ran to him and flung her arms around him in a tight embrace. “What happened?”

  “I’m okay,” he said. “Really.”

  She pulled back to study his face and was horrified by what she saw. Her brother’s eyes had gone pale, the color of dense fog. She let out a soft cry and covered her mouth. The fogginess was that of impenetrable blindness, as if her brother had been born that way. As if his eyes had always been dead and empty.

  “It’s okay,” he said, and the indirect way in which he looked at her face made a shuddering sob work its way through her body.

  “What happened? Oh Milo, please tell me it’s not true.”

  He hugged her again. “Don’t worry. Eyes aren’t the only way to see in this world.”

  Emma heard quiet sobs behind her and quickly got out of the way. Lily ran up to Milo and threw her arms around him and cried into his chest. They exchanged a few words Emma didn’t hear, because at that point, she had wandered over to the lake to gaze at the stars reflected on its surface.

  A life without sight. Her brother might never get his eyes back. And it was all their fault—Kovax and Iolus.

  Rage made her feathers tingle. She felt no desire to laugh when Owen cut in with one of his jokes.

  “Do I get a hug, too—or would that be weird?” he said, and Emma heard a few thumps as he clapped Milo’s back. Then her brother’s voice, more confident than usual, said, “I’m okay. It’s going to be all right, I promise.”

  She turned back to her friends. They gathered in a tight cluster at the edge of the lake to talk. Emma couldn’t stop staring at her brother’s face.

  “Bad news,” Owen said. “I found Barrel’s Araband. Crushed. Up near the mountains. Whoever did it tried to hide the evidence in the dirt.”

  “Kellan and Garig,” Milo said. “It took two of them.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I found their footprints. Ara did a scan, and they go all the way into the mountains. There’s a path.” His voice shrank. “I—I didn’t follow it.”

  “Good work, Owen,” Milo said.

  The words made Owen stand a bit taller. Lily sniffled and wiped away tears.

  “We have to go there,” she said.

  Milo nodded, though he didn’t look convinced. “Not right away. Not until we know what we’re walking into.”

  A mechanical hum made them all look skyward. It rose in pitch as a vehicle lowered itself onto the grass, a Wingcab with blinking exterior lights. The door popped open and Sevarin jumped out, looking dirty and disheveled. He tossed a wad of bills at the driver, who grumbled an insult.

  Gunner followed, which meant they were all here—except Oscar—where was he?—and, of course, Barrel, who was missing.

  The blonde woman who stepped out after Gunner, however, was no one Emma had ever laid eyes on. And yet, she was distinctly familiar.

  “Pris Walksprite,” Emma whispered, awestruck.

  “I don’t believe it,” Owen said.

  Sevarin strode confidently up to Milo. “Was that you that did the lightning storm?” he asked, giving him a pat on the arm. “Impressive stuff.”

  Sevarin must have noticed Milo’s eyes. Immediately, his face crumpled. “Oh, man. Don’t t
ell me…”

  Milo put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Not now. We have bigger problems.” His next words surprised Emma. “Who’s the woman?”

  They all stared at Milo, similarly impressed. He must have felt their eyes on him because he immediately explained. “I heard extra footsteps.”

  Emma’s mind spun with questions. Why was this woman here? Could she save Barrel? Where was Emmanuel? And why did Sevarin look like he’d been run over by a truck? What should they do next?

  As if sensing Emma’s worry, the woman approached her. She was so tall, easily over six feet, with a slender, womanly figure that contrasted sharply against the tight cords of muscle visible in her thighs and arms. Her blonde hair was cut short around her chin, and the flowing cape that fell around her body made her seem regal, like someone who spends most of her time in castles protecting kings and queens.

  “I’m Pris Walksprite,” she said directly at Emma. “I knew your mother and father, and your uncle Emmanuel.”

  “Knew him?” Emma said.

  Her pulse had risen. She dreaded what the woman would say next. Pris looked away, her expression taking on a guarded sadness that broke Emma’s heart.

  “Oh, no. Uncle Manny. He’s dead, isn’t he? He—he’s really dead.”

  Pris nodded, and Emma immediately began to cry. Lily pulled her into an embrace, and they held each other, sobbing quietly.

  Milo’s voice was stern. “How did it happen?”

  “He died honorably,” Pris said, “after saving the lives of an entire village of people. It was an infection of a magical nature. He took it into his own body and saved a little girl from a gruesome death.”

  Milo made a hammering motion with one of his fists. “It can’t be.”

  “Calm down,” Sevarin said. “He saved a bunch of people.”

  “No. He wouldn’t just sacrifice himself like that. He was too important.”

  Emma had never seen Milo this angry, not even after the death of their parents. His rage was that of a person who had been lied to, cheated, or betrayed.

  “Hey,” she said, going to him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Everything. Uncle Manny had things he needed to do, a war he wanted to see through to the end. No offense,” he glanced blindly at Pris, “but he wouldn’t give everything up to save a little girl, or even a village. Not when there are millions of lives at stake.”

  Pris bowed her head respectfully. “I promised him I would defend you all to the death.”

  “Did he leave anything behind?” Milo said, fighting past Sevarin’s half-hearted attempt to restrain him. “Something. Like a plant, or—or a symbol…”

  “No,” Pris said, frowning. “We buried his corpse. I brought back his clothes.”

  Shaking his head, Milo turned away before she could finish. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “He’ll be okay,” Emma assured Pris. “Our uncle spent two years training him. It was just the two of them.”

  “I understand. He was loved by many.”

  Her voice had wavered slightly. Was she hiding some secret? Emma searched the woman’s face and found it impenetrable, like a wall. Then Pris’s eyebrows shot up as if at a sudden memory.

  “He recorded a message for all of you,” she said, digging out an Araband and waiting for someone to take it. She seemed incapable of turning it on herself.

  Emma went to grab it, but the device flew off Pris’s palm and shot past her, tugged by an invisible force. Milo had cast the spell. He caught the Araband easily despite his blindness. He really could see in a way that didn’t require eyesight. Incredible.

  As Emma watched, Milo summoned a hologram from the device. The figure appeared in the center of their circle. It was Uncle Manny, standing outside somewhere cold and full of snow, his sunglasses probably in his pocket. Even in the dim light from where he had recorded himself, Emma could see the frosty blue of his eyes.

  “Milo,” he said, and then he proceeded to recite all of their names in a calm, methodical voice, “Emma, Oscar, Lily, Barrel, Sevarin, Gunner, Owen, Calista. These are the names that play in my mind every night before I go to sleep, and again when I wake up in the morning. They’re my prayer for good luck.”

  He smiled as if he could see all of them standing there. Emma’s vision blurred until she had to wipe away tears. Her friends were also sniffling.

  Except Milo. He stood with his arms crossed, staring vacantly down at the grass in front of him.

  “You kids are my greatest students,” Uncle Manny continued, “every single one of you is a bright light in a darkening world.” He sighed, struggling beneath the weight of his words. “I have to make a sacrifice now, and because of this, I may never see you again.

  “But in my place, another Champion has agreed to look after you. Her name is Pris Walksprite, and once, I loved her with every ounce of my being. I love her still. With her help, you all will go on to accomplish remarkable things. Just make sure you listen to her. She knows her stuff.”

  His gaze shifted, and Emma felt he was looking straight at her.

  “I don’t have much time left, so I’ll use what minutes remain to give you a piece of advice. I hope you will take it to heart as it’s the most important lesson I will ever teach you. Train like your lives depend on it, because they do. Train until you bleed, until your body cries for mercy, and your mind begs for sleep. Then, train harder. Train until you collapse. The person standing beside you will pick you up, and if that person loves you, he or she will slap you across the face and yell at you to go twice as hard. And if you love that person back, you’ll do the same for them. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, and your chain is made of Tiberian. Pris will help you understand how that is possible in the face of such great evil.

  “Now I must say goodbye. I love you all, and someday we will join each other in the realm of heroes. Your parents and everyone else you have lost will be there with me, waiting for your arrival. That time will come, but it must not come too soon. Farewell.”

  With a final, reassuring nod, Emmanuel extended a hand and killed the recording. The light died with it, leaving them to stand together in darkness. No one spoke for several seconds.

  Milo broke the silence.

  “Pris,” he said. “Pris Walksprite.”

  The woman approached him.

  “Yes, Milo.”

  “If my uncle trusted you, then I do, too. But we need you now. My friend is missing. Can you help us find him?”

  “Yes, of course. The boys who kidnapped Baraltimus,” Pris said. “I fought them earlier tonight. I let them live, unfortunately.”

  “You didn’t know,” Milo said. “Let’s move forward.”

  Pris gave a solemn nod. Emma felt a cool shiver slide across her wings. Milo had never been one to take the lead like this. Now, he sounded just like their uncle—calm, confident, and fully in charge. It wasn’t like him at all.

  “One more thing,” Pris said, approaching Milo. “He wanted you to have this.”

  She dug something small and shiny out of a pouch on her belt, then handed it over to Milo. He took it gently into his right hand, then used both hands to open it.

  Sunglasses. The circular ones Uncle Manny used to wear. Seeing them caused a bolt of sadness to shoot through Emma’s chest, and she nearly moaned.

  He was gone. Her uncle was dead.

  “Thank you,” Milo said in a voice that wavered slightly. He slipped the glasses into his pants pocket and rested his fingers over the spot for a moment. Then his hands fell away and he began to speak as firmly as before.

  “Owen can take us to the spot where it happened. We can follow the path into the mountains and look around. It’s almost morning, so we’ll have enough light. But we have to go now. We’re not safe in Theus anymore, even here at the academy.” He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I destroyed the Archon’s largest fountain tonight, so he’ll be hunting me. Sevarin and Pris, you fought his only son. Kellan will lie about who st
arted it, so we’re probably wanted criminals by now. We can say goodbye to our time here at the academy.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Pris said, gripping the handle of the broadsword slung across her back. “Let’s move.”

  “There’s one more thing,” Milo said.

  He tipped his head back and released a shrill whistle. Zander came to stand beside him, and they both looked up at the sky.

  Emma followed their gaze and spotted winged, black shapes cutting across the stars. They were flying down toward the lake.

  “Levathons,” she said in a breathless whisper.

  “Zan and I brought a few friends,” her brother said, and she could tell by the sound of his voice that he was smiling.

  CHAPTER 41

  T he spell took Kovax and his son far away from Iolus, all the way across the realm to the High Republic of Theus.

  He appeared where the dark energy was strongest, in the spot the Archon had chosen for his largest project yet. There was supposed to be a fountain here, but when Kovax opened his eyes, he instead found himself standing among wreckage. Energy gushed up from a busted pipe in the ground. Shattered stone lay everywhere. The fountain had been destroyed by a spell only a handful of people could cast.

  “You’ve grown powerful,” Kovax said, picturing Milo’s face as he’d seen it back at the lab, older and wiser than it had appeared the day the boy’s father died.

  Kofi looked up at him. “Where are we?”

  “Don’t ask questions, boy. Just follow me.”

  He stepped over chunks of broken granite. The air was hazy with dust, misty with particles from the fountain’s energy source. He peered through it at buildings surrounding the large park. They all had broken windows and cracked faces, with the front doors blown off the hinges. And yet there were no corpses. The boy had cleared the place before decimating it.

  “What happened here?” Kofi asked, then clamped his mouth shut and gazed timidly up at his father. “Sorry. No questions.”