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

by Richard Denoncourt

  Someone was trying to send a message.

  The second face—looking eerily like Garig—brought up a pair of hands and closed them around the neck of the first face that had appeared, which was clearly Kellan’s. What happened next surprised Emma: the hands tightened and began to strangle.

  Oblivious to the drama unfolding inside the tank, Kellan continued spewing his monologue at the orphans. “And you, Sevarin. You’ve done nothing but smear the academy’s name…”

  Emma was only half-listening. Now, she was completely focused on Garig. He caught Emma looking at him, and Emma took the opportunity to roll her eyes up at the tank, an obvious gesture meant to redirect his attention. Hopefully, he wasn’t too stupid to realize that.

  She was in luck. Garig glanced behind his shoulder at the tank, saw what was being formed inside its glass walls, and turned to stare at it in open fascination.

  No, Emma wanted to scream at him. He’ll see you staring at it, you idiot.

  Garig must have read her mind, or he wasn’t nearly as stupid as she had suspected. He was, after all, a trained Academy cadet, schooled in the art of outsmarting his enemies and spotting ways to gain the upper hand on a battlefield.

  She hoped.

  Motion caught Emma’s eye. She looked to her right, where Milo stood listening to Kellan’s rant. Or was he? His left hand hung down by his thigh, hidden from Kellan’s view, the fingers twitching. Then it made sense to her.

  Milo was the one shaping the figures inside the tank. He was the one sending the message, with Garig as his intended recipient. If anyone was going to save their lives today, it was her blind Savant twin brother.

  Hope surged inside Emma, a cool blush in her chest. Silently, she willed Garig into action. Just do it. Grab his neck and squeeze. Don’t kill him, just knock him out…

  The only problem was Kellan’s constant pacing around the room. He changed direction again and was now walking away from Garig.

  Emma looked to the wardens for help. Maybe one of them would get the message and block Kellan’s path, forcing him toward Garig. But the wardens had other things on their minds. They kept glancing at the door behind the orphans, obviously eager for an escape.

  Pris Walksprite had only just noticed the tank and the figures within, locked in their repetitive struggle. Maybe she could find a way to get her hands around Kellan…

  No, even Pris wasn’t that quick. Kellan would notice the move. He would say the command that would set off the explosive.

  Garig was literally the only hope they had left. He would need some help.

  Emma stepped forward. Kellan caught the movement like a frog spotting a fly for its next meal. His head whipped around to face her.

  “You think you can talk to us that way?” Emma said.

  Kellan’s eyebrows shot up, his smile turning appreciative. He stopped in place. “Emma Banks. If I had to guess which one of you was the real leader of this group, the only one with any guts whatsoever, it would probably be you.”

  “Oh yeah?” Emma threw a glance at Garig. Garig only chewed his lower lip and stared back. “Why do you say that?”

  Kellan strutted over to her. “I see it in your eyes. You’re strong. I know you see things. Far-away things.”

  Emma looked away, her wings shivering slightly. Kellan would be drawn to her look of vulnerability—so much so, hopefully, that it would give Garig the chance he needed.

  “You’ve got the brains and the beauty,” Kellan continued, admiring her body in a sleazy way. “Look at those wings. I’ll bet if I plucked a feather off one of them, it would sing like a harp.”

  Sevarin snapped at him. “I’d break your fingers and make you sing, you freak.”

  Kellan chuckled at that. Emma ignored Sevarin and stuck to her plan. “Is that right? And here I thought Garig was the one with the crush on me. I guess it was you all along.”

  Kellan chuckled and waved dismissively in Garig’s direction. “Him? Garig? Nah, he’s all talk. Trembles like a leaf when he’s around a girl he likes, unless he has four Sargonauts backing him up.”

  Garig’s face went tight in a sudden scowl. An angry blush began to creep up his neck, edging his freckled face. He glanced at Emma, then at Kellan, then back at Emma.

  He was ready, fists clenched and shaking with rage, but he was waiting for something. For her command.

  “Do it, Garig,” Emma said.

  Kellan’s smile fell away. He opened his mouth to speak, probably to say the command that would blow the place up, but he ended up gagging instead.

  In a flash, Garig had lunged at him, clearing the room in a single jump, like a chimpanzee. He now had his beefy hands around Kellan’s neck.

  “Get away from my son,” the Archon shouted.

  The wardens stiffened. Pris dashed toward the nearest one, leveling her sword with his neck.

  “Move and I’ll cut you all down,” she said.

  The Archon ignored her threat. A luminether crystal appeared in his right hand, and he ran toward Garig, electricity crackling around his fingers. A stun spell, most likely.

  Sevarin intercepted the man and tripped him. The Archon landed on his jaw with a nauseating smack. The spell fizzled out as he lost consciousness, and the crystal fell from his grasp. Gunner picked it up and passed it to Owen, who passed it to Lily, who slipped it into her pocket.

  Garig was gripping too hard, evident by the purplish color that entered Kellan’s face.

  “Don’t kill him,” Emma shouted. “Just knock him out!”

  Garig nodded and loosened his grip. Kellan struggled to force out words.

  “Death… to…”

  “No!” Emma made a strangling motion. Garig tightened his grip again, and a part of Emma wished they could all just watch Kellan die and have it be over with.

  Most of the wardens used the commotion as an opportunity to flee the room. A few of the more courageous ones stayed behind. They went to pick up beamcasters and were almost immediately cut down by Pris, who had begun a chopping, slicing dance around the room.

  Rocky entered the fray, picking up two wardens attempting to leave the room. He knocked their heads together, then tossed them into the nearest wall. The men fell and didn’t get back up.

  “I’ll see how many are outside,” Sevarin said.

  He picked up a sword and ran out of the room. Pris frowned, on the verge of stopping him. Instead, she stayed, turned, and leveled her sword at Garig.

  “Don’t let him die,” she warned the boy. “If it’s the only honorable thing you do.”

  By now, Kellan’s face had turned bluish and his eyes had rolled up into his head. His lips squirmed as he struggled to do two things—breathe and form the words that would kill everyone in the room and poison thousands more in the city.

  “I won’t let him go so easily,” Garig said. “He deserves worse than death.”

  “We’ll remember you saved us,” Emma assured him, to which Garig replied with a grateful nod, hands still clasped around Kellan’s neck.

  “He’s a tough one,” Owen said, watching Kellan struggle.

  Gunner smacked his friend’s shoulder. “Come on. The tubes. We have to set them free.”

  “He’s right,” Milo said, breaking into a sprint toward the filtration machine, the faces in the tank quickly dissolving.

  Emma ran straight to Barrel’s harvester. “Milo, tell me what to do!”

  Milo had opened a panel and was running his fingers over the guts of the machine, which were a mess of colorful wires gathered in tight coils, a board of switches adding to the confusion.

  “I can’t see them,” he cried out. “I need help with this.”

  Lily ran over, Rocky pounding after her to ensure her safety. Gently bending down to his level, Lily put her hand over Milo’s and moved it across the coils, reciting the assorted colors and switch labels in his ear.

  Garig called out to the orphans: “He’s out.”

  He released Kellan, who slumped to the floor, e
yes shut.

  “Make sure he has a pulse,” Pris said.

  Gunner ran over and put his fingers to the boy’s neck. “He’s alive and breathing. What now?”

  “If he wakes up, knock him out immediately,” Pris said. “For now, seal his mouth.”

  “With what?”

  “I got an idea,” Owen said.

  He tore off his boot, peeled away the sock, and put the shoe back on. Then he stuffed the sock into Kellan’s slack mouth.

  “That’s gross,” Gunner said.

  “Serves him right,” said Owen as he stepped back to admire his work.

  Emma was startled by an alarm that suddenly began to wail. The room blazed with flashing red lights.

  She had to scream to be heard. “What is that?”

  “I triggered it,” Milo shouted. “But I killed the locking mechanism. When it stops, that means we need to open the chambers. Fast.”

  Sevarin rushed back into the main chamber, dirt and dust all over his clothes.

  “I climbed up the mountainside and looked around,” he said, wide-eyed. “The backup force that Archon was talking about? They’re coming.”

  “Wardens?” Pris said, jogging up to him. “Were they carrying casters?”

  He shook his head. “Mercenaries. Big guys with swords and maces and other stuff.

  “I’ll take care of them,” Pris said, and ran out.

  While this was going on, Emma stood studying Barrel’s face behind the glass of the tube. The breathing device weighed his head down, giving him the look of a sad boy praying for some sort of forgiveness, eyes closed against the flashing red lights of hell.

  Then he twitched. Emma put a hand on the glass and watched. His body began to shake as if in the grip of a powerful seizure. She looked around. All the bodies were shaking now, twitching with a violent intensity as if the yellowish fluid were some sort of acid burning their skin.

  “Oh no,” Emma said.

  The bubbles rising from Barrel’s breathing device had disappeared. That could only mean one thing.

  “He’s drowning!”

  She spun to watch Milo work deftly with the controls. Lily had gone back to guiding his movements, but she could only do so many things at once. Her neglect had caused Rocky to shrink down to the size of an infant.

  “Lily, conserve your energy,” Emma shouted to her. “Let Rocky go.”

  Lily flashed her a desperate look. She whipped her hand at the golem, shouted the command, and a moment later Rocky dissolved in a shower of light.

  Across the chamber, someone made a sputtering sound.

  Emma turned to see Kellan try to rise. He coughed out the sock Gunner had stuffed into his mouth, and Emma was certain he would say the words that would blow them all up.

  Owen and Gunner both punched him in the face before Garig could even think to react. Kellen toppled onto his back, out cold again. They went to stuff the sock back into his mouth and were stopped by Garig, who pointed at a nearby unconscious warden. The three boys exchanged a few words and went about removing a pair of handcuffs from the warden to bind Kellan’s wrists together.

  This time, Owen stuffed his sock into Kellan’s mouth and tied a second one around the unconscious cadet’s face to secure it.

  Emma noticed all this while whipping her head around like a maniac, observing many things at once. She saw Barrel drowning in the harvester, Lily and Milo frantically flipping switches, Sevarin picking up a sword and running to join Pris outside, and then something totally new—a voice from a hidden loudspeaker overhead.

  “Timer set. Initiating self-destruct sequence,” the voice said, a woman who sounded like a pompous robot. “Ten seconds…”

  “Hurry,” Emma shouted.

  “Nine seconds to self-destruct…”

  The alarm screamed. Barrel went limp, no longer drowning but unconscious, or possibly dead. Emma pounded a fist against the glass, shouting his name.

  “Eight seconds…”

  Swords clashed in the tunnel outside the chamber. Men shouted just beyond the door and screamed as blades were driven into them. Emma saw a broad-shouldered mercenary stagger through the doorway, teeth bared as he clutched a belly wound. He flew forward, kicked by Sevarin, who immediately took up the man’s spot.

  “I’ll hold them back,” he shouted into the room.

  Emma shouted back. “Okay.”

  “Seven seconds,” the voice said. “Six seconds…”

  Owen and Gunner ran to the harvesters, ready for orders. They didn’t seem afraid of being blown to bits or run out of the room in fear, abandoning their friends, as normal kids might have done.

  “Five seconds…”

  “What’s taking so long?” Owen shouted.

  Milo ignored the question. “When I say go, start opening them.”

  “Four seconds…”

  “The latches,” Lily added. “He means the latches with the black handles.”

  Emma searched the harvester and found a metal latch with a black rubber grip. Now, all she had to do was wait… and hope.

  “Three seconds…”

  It was counting down so fast!

  “We’re gonna die,” Gunner said, stepping back from a harvester, his eyes cranked all the way open in fear. “We’re gonna die.”

  “You better not run,” Owen said. “You stay right here with me, Gun-woo.”

  “Two seconds…”

  Emma placed a hand on the glass. “I’m sorry, Barrel.”

  “One second…”

  She shut her eyes for the blast.

  But it never came.

  “Now!”

  Milo’s voice. The alarm had stopped. Emma opened her eyes and saw the light in the room had been fully restored, no longer red. Her hands shot forward, gripped the latch, and yanked it all the way down.

  The glass slid down so quickly it left a column of fluid that held for a split-second, then broke apart in a splash, Barrel tumbling down a moment later. Emma grabbed him and lowered him gently to the floor. She pumped his chest, wishing she had learned CPR at some point in her life.

  “Come on, come on…”

  More sounds of battle filled the chamber. Sevarin had left his post at the door. A mercenary appeared, bearish and angry, clutching a long sword. He did a quick scan of the room and dashed toward Kellan’s unconscious body.

  Garig stood in his way, but only for a moment. The merc brandished his sword and growled at the cadet, and Garig’s courage instantly melted. He stepped aside, allowing the merc to retrieve Kellan’s body and carry him outside, slung over one shoulder.

  “You idiot,” Emma shouted at Garig. “He can still set off the bomb.”

  The look Garig flashed at her was surprisingly sympathetic. “Good luck,” he said, and ran out of the chamber.

  Emma’s stomach clenched in a sudden grip of anxiety. She pictured the mercenary unbinding Kellan’s wrists, pulling the sock out of his mouth, waking him up, and giving him the chance to set off the explosion.

  They had to get out of here.

  “Flip the latches,” she shouted at the others. “All of them. Hurry.”

  Owen and Gunner moved with surprising speed and efficiency. The chamber filled with the clanks of falling latches, the bursts of water splashing to the ground, the thumps of bodies tumbling out.

  Emma had to decide—try to save Barrel, who looked to be dead already, or join the others in freeing more victims. She chose Barrel. Kneeling at his side, Emma did her best to pump fluid from his lungs and get his heart beating again. Please, please, please, she prayed. Aliara, help me. Grant me your gifts…

  “They’re all dead,” Owen said.

  He and Gunner had been feeling pulses. The tubes were all empty now.

  “What do we do?” Emma cried out. “Kellan might blow the place.”

  “Should we run?” Lily asked.

  They all looked to Milo for guidance. He stood with his head tipped back, as if studying the blue, swirling energy inside the tank—exc
ept that his eyes were closed. What was he planning?

  “We need to break it,” he said. “Sevarin.”

  A voice from the tunnel yelled, “I’m here.”

  “We need you. Bring swords, as many as you can carry.”

  “Okay!”

  Emma understood now. “The bodies—we have to drag them to the center.”

  The orphans fell to action. Lily took Milo’s hand and guided him to the nearest victim. They each grabbed a body by the ankles or wrists and began to drag. Luckily, the fluid had made them slippery, easier to move.

  Emma finished dragging Barrel to the center. Owen and Gunner brought the remaining victims, until all of them—orphan and victim alike—were within a few feet of the central tank.

  Sevarin appeared with an armful of swords, picking up more along the way. There was blood all over him. The Tiberian-edged blades had cut into his skin.

  “Now what?” he asked, looking miserable.

  Milo gripped the arm of a terrified Lily. “Do you have your staff?”

  “It’s here somewhere…”

  “Got it,” Gunner said, digging it out of the mass of bodies and handing it over.

  “Thanks, Gunner,” Lily said, then turned to Milo. “What now?”

  “We need a shield spell, one that will let in energy, but not metal. Think you can do that?”

  Her fear melted away and became a smile. “Yes. I know that one.”

  “Do it,” Milo said.

  Lily lifted her staff, the crystal as bright blue as the healing energy inside the tank. Her lips squirmed as she half-whispered, half-mumbled a chant. The crystal’s glow intensified.

  Light flashed. A transparent blob sprang from the crystal and grew in a misshapen way, like melted glass filling with air until an oddly shaped dome encapsulated them. Grayish skeins of light radiated from its surface.

  Lily shrugged. “It’s ugly, but it’ll do the trick.”

  “Now what?” Sevarin said.

  “Throw them up at the glass,” Milo answered, gesturing toward Sevarin’s pile of swords. “You’ll want to shatter it.”

  Sevarin took a deep breath and dropped the swords. Then, one by one, he picked them up and hurled them at the tank.