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

by Richard Denoncourt

  Jason gave a solemn nod, seeming much older and wiser than when they had first met. “Same with your father. He was a good man.” He sighed deeply. “One thing I need to know—is it true what you said about the Orglots? That they’ve sided with our kin?”

  “Yes. They’re our friends now.”

  Biting his lower lip, Jason squinted in the direction of camp. He seemed to be picturing an Orglot army lurking somewhere within, hungry for Feral flesh.

  “You know they tried to eat me and my friends,” he said.

  “I know. I was there. But you broke into their home and tried to steal their gold.”

  “True. I took that gold with me. The pieces we left in the tunnel. It’s how I was able to rent these ships. I figured I owed you one for saving my life—but I hope you don’t expect me to adopt one of those monsters.”

  Oscar shook his head. “Many of them died. They sacrificed a lot of their own kin to destroy a tower that burned up thousands of Ferals. Our people can’t ever forget that.”

  With a nod, Jason turned and looked out at the ocean. The ships had dropped anchor a short distance away. They were waiting. It was time to go home.

  A rumbling voice came from the forest, speaking the Orglot tongue.

  Jason startled, but Oscar smiled, knowing exactly who it was.

  Ukril.

  Jason staggered backward. Behind him, the crewmembers on the ships all stared at the Orglots in horror.

  “It’s—it’s him,” Jason said. “The fighter…”

  “Relax,” Oscar said. “He won’t hurt you.”

  Ukril limped toward Oscar and Jason, bloody bandages speckling his body. His war paint had been reduced to a collection of messy smears. If anything, this made his appearance even more frightening.

  His one eye blinked at Jason.

  “Translate for me,” Ukril said in his native language.

  Oscar nodded.

  “Whoa,” Jason said. “You understand him?”

  “I learn languages quickly,” Oscar said. “He wants me to give you a message.”

  Jason stared up at the towering Orglot. Ukril spoke in a series of clicks, grunts, and rasps. Oscar did his best to translate.

  “I’m sorry about your brother,” Oscar relayed to Jason. “I am thankful for the use of your ships so we may return home. You will receive ample gold in return.”

  Jason cut him off with a raised hand. “No gold necessary. I’m not doing this for riches.”

  Oscar translated. Ukril smiled at Jason. He thumped his chest and barked.

  Jason thumped his chest and barked back.

  THE WAVES SLAMMED against the ship’s hull.

  Oscar stood gripping the handrail and looking out at the horizon, savoring the gentle sway of the ship as it sailed toward the only place he considered home. The academy had rejected him, and Theus held little interest now that his father was gone. But his friends were there, and his friends were his home—the only one he needed.

  Closing his eyes, savoring the salty breeze, Oscar thought about his father. He was imagining how a conversation between them might play out regarding Oscar’s recent victory, when a voice yanked him back to reality.

  “There you are.”

  He turned to find Calista leaning on a mast, smiling at him. She wore a shirt that revealed her arms and shoulders—and the shocking collection of tattoos covering them like a colorful, skintight suit.

  He was stunned.

  “Do you like them?” she asked, walking over with an awkward gait, one hand pressed to the spot where she’d been wounded. “Honestly.”

  He nodded. “Yes. They’re—different.”

  She frowned playfully, then winced at a sudden pain.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “How do you feel?”

  “Those Acolyte nurses healed the wound, but it still hurts for some reason.”

  He nodded. “It might hurt for a long time. That was amazing what you did. You saved so many lives back there.”

  She waved away his compliment. “I don’t want to think about it anymore. We’re going home. That’s all I care about.”

  “Me too,” he said, then added, “Calista.”

  “Oscar,” she said.

  They stood at the ship’s bow and looked out at the horizon. Calista told her story first, explaining how she had gotten here, and then Oscar shared his. While he spoke, Calista’s head bumped against his shoulder. She had almost fallen asleep standing up. Oscar took her hand into his own and walked her to her room, then came back and stood looking out at the water alone.

  But he wasn’t alone. Not even close.

  The backs of dolphins broke the surface—dozens of them—ahead and to either side, keeping pace with the ship as if they were guiding him home.

  CHAPTER 50

  Emma woke up feeling rested.

  Barrel was going to be fine. The news of his progress had allowed her to sleep without nightmares. That hadn’t been the case the first few nights. Emma had spent them tossing and turning on the cot they had assigned her, waking up every five minutes with those grisly faces captured in her mind’s eye—the pale, frightened faces of people trapped in the harvesters, struggling to break free.

  Barrel would face no permanent injuries, which was a relief. The latest report from the academy hospital had mentioned only psychological issues. Supposedly, Barrel had told one of the nurses that he didn’t see a point in any of it. When asked what he meant (“Living?” she had asked. “Do you not see a point in living anymore?”) Barrel had only blinked sadly at her before returning his gaze to the ceiling.

  Emma, Milo, and the others weren’t allowed to see him until the cleansing process finished purifying the cells of his body. Then he would start therapy to get him back to his normal self.

  The only other concern that kept Emma up at night—she had been at Giant Sons Manufacturing for two whole weeks now—was the matter of her two missing friends, Oscar and Calista. At first, they had suspected Oscar and his father had been among the kidnapped victims. But there were no bodies to prove this. A more likely possibility was that Oscar had run away and Andres had gone after him. Had they met up finally? Were the two of them in some other city or village, trying to scrape by?

  No. Emma knew in her heart that Oscar wouldn’t abandon them like that, with zero explanation. The least he would have done was send a message.

  Emma would look for him. She would enlist the others, and they would spend as much time as necessary to find their friend. Then, eventually, they would find Calista.

  Nothing else seemed to matter.

  Feeling renewed by this mission, Emma sat up in bed and looked around, ready to start the day. It was early still, and dusky, morning light slanted through the windows, rippling slightly. It was an effect caused by the protective lining fortifying the glass against bullets, lasers, and magical attacks. Juliara Asphodel had explained just how ridiculously safe they were on the Giant Sons campus, which was itself as large as Theus Academy and almost as heavily protected against magic and bullet alike… except for one obvious difference.

  Unlike Theus Academy, this campus was not attached to the earth in any way. Instead, it hovered above the clouds, suspended much like the floating mall. And it was massive. Emma had seen its magnificent spread from the shuttle window, after Owen and Gunner’s excited voices had awoken her from her exhausted slumber.

  Someone was snoring. Across the room, Lily lay curled up under her covers, head peeking out of a nest of messy hair. The others were asleep in a similar fashion, except Sevarin, who lay on top of his covers, shirtless but wearing his pajama bottoms, as if he’d collapsed in exhaustion after a strenuous workout.

  They were all there—all except Barrel, Oscar, and Calista, of course, though Emma was confident they would return. She felt unusually confident this morning. What had changed?

  She tapped her Araband and checked the time. Ten minutes to six. The alarm would go off soon, giving them time to wash up before breakfast in th
e mess hall at seven.

  Emma slid quietly off her cot and made for the door.

  “Hey,” Milo said.

  She turned to find him peeling off the covers. Emma would never get used to seeing his face like that, eyes closed, blind as a bat. He stood up and stretched in his blue cotton pajamas. Juliara’s servants had passed them out the night before, and Emma found them to be the most comfortable clothes she had ever worn.

  “How are you feeling?” Emma said

  “As good as might be expected,” Milo replied. “You?”

  She shrugged and smiled, though he wouldn’t see it. Maybe she could beam her positive emotions at him, making him feel her happiness like the warmth of sunrays washing over him.

  He smiled. Had it worked?

  “You’re chipper today. Are the nightmares gone?”

  “Pretty much. How could you tell?”

  He shrugged. “Always could.” He kicked around for his slippers, found them, and sat on the bed so he could tug them onto his bare feet.

  “You want to hit the shower first?” he said. “I can wait. Need to wake up.”

  “Sure.”

  Emma grabbed a folded towel from a stack the servants had placed on a crate against the wall. She unlocked the door by pressing her thumb against a green panel, and it slid open with a refreshing whoosh.

  …and stopped midway. Next to the door, an intercom hummed. Light rays fanned out to draw a three-dimensional image of a woman’s torso.

  Emma stepped back, alarmed to find a holographic Pris frowning at her.

  “Children, time to get up. Someone’s here to see you.”

  Emma spun to face Milo. He stood with his head tilted, listening. The others came awake with violent starts, Lily snorting loudly before shooting up into a seated position.

  “Wha—what’s wrong?” she asked, looking around frantically.

  Sevarin sprang off his bed, fists up and ready. “I’m up! I’m up!”

  Owen and Gunner lifted their heads and blinked groggily at the others. Milo approached the hologram wearing an intent expression.

  “Pris, what is it? Everything okay?”

  “Skip your showers,” she said, still wearing that stony look, “and meet me at the landing strips.”

  The holograph blinked off, and the intercom went silent. The door opened all the way.

  “What do you think’s wrong?” Milo asked.

  Before Emma could respond, a hopeful, fluttering sensation rose in her chest, much like the one she’d felt when Barrel’s hospital reports came back with positive news.

  “I think I know who it is. Follow me.”

  She made her way into the hallway.

  Soon, she was running.

  THE ORPHANS MET Pris by the landing strips, beneath a wide-open sky of pure blue. The only clouds were the ones stretching for miles below the campus—clouds that spread in all directions like giant, gentle pillows supporting the island of stone and metal where Giant Sons Manufacturing sat suspended.

  Emma had forgotten her slippers. The pavement was cold against her bare feet.

  “Morning,” Pris said, smiling at them. She was dressed in the simple blue uniform of a machine worker. It suited her tall, athletic frame.

  She was alone.

  “Who else is here?” Sevarin said, looking around in frustration. “You said someone was here, right? Was I dreaming?”

  “This is no dream,” Pris said.

  Her smile confirmed Emma’s hopeful feeling. Pris tipped her head back, and Emma followed the woman’s gaze.

  A huge bird was flying toward them, carrying two riders—a boy and a girl.

  “Is that…” Owen struggled to speak. “Is that who I think it is?”

  “Holy crap!” Gunner grabbed fistfuls of his own hair in excitement. “It’s them!”

  Sevarin ran forward. He stopped and stood, shirtless, head and shoulders tipped back as he gazed at the sky like a little boy obsessed with airplanes seeing his first one in action.

  “No way,” he said as the bird glided down.

  It landed with a clack of its talons hitting the pavement and an ear-piercing squawk that made Emma’s breath catch. The boy riding the bird looked unfazed. He jumped down, then turned to catch the slender girl that jumped down after him.

  It was clearly Oscar and Calista—and yet, in some ways, it wasn’t them at all.

  They had changed. Oscar wore a red bandanna around his forehead, and his hair, which fell in long shreds around it, obviously hadn’t been cut in a while. He looked skinnier, as if he’d spent the past few months in a jungle encampment. As before, only one of his eyes was orange, and yet his smile made it evident that he was no longer ashamed of it.

  Calista walked a few paces behind him, looking nervous but pleased. She wore a white, sleeveless shirt that revealed incredible designs painted on her shoulders and arms.

  Emma gasped. Tattoos.

  She was covered in tattoos. And the designs—were they wings? And snakes?

  “Where the hell have you guys been?”

  Sevarin rushed them, arms spread apart. He grabbed Oscar and lifted him in a bear hug. Oscar laughed and nearly fell as Sevarin released him and went for Calista. Instead of grimacing or pushing him away, Calista did something that surprised Emma—she laughed and hugged Sevarin back.

  “I missed you guys so much,” she said.

  Emma, Milo, and the others approached, Emma walking with the slowness of someone whose knees had turned to putty. She felt like she was dreaming. Aside from Barrel—and he was only a few miles away, safe and sound—every single one of her friends was here. They were all together again.

  Owen and Gunner were especially pleased to see Oscar. They shook his hand and patted his back, beaming at him. Oscar blushed, humbled by all the attention.

  Lily squealed and embraced Calista, then stared at the tattoos in fascination.

  “Ooh, I want one. I want one!”

  Calista smiled back at her, and yet Emma noted a hint of sadness in the expression, as if the tattoos were also a heavy chain she was being forced to wear. Maybe she would ask Calista about it later. Or maybe not.

  Then it was Milo’s turn. He greeted them awkwardly, and it was obvious Calista and Oscar were both surprised and saddened by the whiteness in his eyes.

  “Are you all right?” Oscar asked Milo, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  Calista watched him with a worried look, biting her lower lip. Milo forced a smile.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “I can explain later. Are you going to say hi to Emma or not?”

  “Of course.” Oscar ran up to Emma and embraced her, and Emma could sense how happy he was to see her. When it was Calista’s turn, she and Emma hesitated for a moment before finally embracing.

  “I’m glad you’re back,” Emma said. “You have to tell me everything.”

  “Same here,” Calista said. “And I will. I’m just glad you don’t hate me.”

  Emma pulled away from her. “Why would I hate you?”

  Calista shrugged, and Emma caught a glimpse of how vulnerable she still was, even after everything that had happened. An awkward moment passed between them.

  “Where’s Barrel?” Calista said, breaking the silence.

  “He’s fine. He’s in a hospital.” Calista looked horrorstruck, and Emma shook her head frantically. “No, no. He’s fine, really. I can explain later. He’ll be glad to see you.”

  “Oh, thank the gods,” Calista said.

  Oscar came up to them and placed his hand on Calista’s arm. She returned his smile, and Sevarin apparently noticed the moment of warmth. He rubbed his hands together, mischievously.

  “You too definitely have some stories to tell us.”

  “Sure do,” Calista said. She nudged Oscar. “Show them.”

  “Show us what?” Lily said, suddenly interested.

  The others gathered around.

  “Just a little trick I picked up,” Oscar said with a shrug.

 
Sevarin sighed gruffly. “You gonna show us or what?”

  “Okay. But step back, everyone.”

  They stepped back, forming a wide circle around Oscar and Calista. Oscar blinked a few times and took a deep breath. Then he tipped his head back and released an ear-piercing, bird-like shriek. The bird he had ridden followed his gaze, looking up at the sky.

  An enormous flock of birds suddenly shot up from the clouds surrounding the Giant Sons campus. Oscar extended his arms, closed his eyes, and waited as a dozen seagulls landed around the orphans. Six of them took up spots along Oscar’s arms, flapping and tousling his hair.

  He opened his eyes again and smiled proudly. “They’re my brothers,” he said.

  Emma swooned. “That’s so cool.”

  “Wait,” Milo said. “What just happened? Someone describe it to me.”

  When Emma explained, Milo’s jaw dropped.

  Everyone joined in a round of applause. That funny, fluttering, hopeful sensation rose again in Emma’s chest. This time, she felt slightly faint. Dizzy. Like she was going to be sick. And the feeling lingered a bit too long.

  “Oh no,” she whispered.

  She felt close to passing out, as if the air had thinned and her lungs were struggling to collect oxygen. Her chest heaved. The tips of her fingers felt tingly and numb.

  “Milo…” she said.

  “Neat trick,” Sevarin told Oscar, waving dismissively. “Just give me some breadcrumbs. I could do the same thing. No problem.”

  The orphans fell to the ground laughing. Not literally, of course—except Owen and Gunner, who theatrically dropped to the pavement, laughing in sharp gasps and rolling around. The other orphans remained standing, chuckling and smiling down at the two clowns. No one noticed Emma teetering.

  Finally, she fell to the ground, too. But instead of laughing, Emma was gasping for air.

  “Emma, you okay?” Owen said, jumping to his feet.

  His voice sounded distant. Emma yelped as a ferocious pain rocked her skull. The morning’s light had intensified and was now boring into her like drill bits. Everything around her felt like it was swirling, like the world had become a giant whirlpool and she was trapped in its funnel.

  “Emma!”