Storm of Arranon
Fire and Ice
R E Sheahan
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2012 Robynn Elisabeth Sheahan
This book is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This book is a Self Published First Edition from Rule of Three Press
www.ruleofthreepress.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.
The author can be contacted at:
www.RESheahan.com
All rights reserved
ISBN: 1481014277
ISBN: 978-1481014274
For Scott and Parker
with all my love.
Acknowledgements
I want to thank Bob and Ruth Harris, Martha Straube, and Russell Turney for their valued time and assistance.
My honest, tough, and incredible editor, Karen Parker encourages me always, and keeps me writing the best story possible.
A special mention to Jackie, (www.jjproofing.com), you’re just awesome.
Thank you.
A dark evil rises.
A world on the threshold of destruction.
A crossing into a mysterious realm.
The journey begins.
Chapter 1
A HIGH PIERCING SCREAM RIPPED through icy air and echoed along the dark intersecting tunnels. The shrieking faded and died.
Possession was a painful adjustment.
For the one being possessed
Dhoran smiled. He felt the corners of the host’s lips jerk in a reluctant response.
Resistance is useless
The cowering consciousness slid into a dark recess of their now shared mind, making room for the new, dominant one.
Destiny was on Dhoran’s side. This healthy athletic body suited him. It hadn’t been necessary to go through numerous candidates before finding an appropriate match, raising suspicion. The Shifter sent to lure an inhabitable being to where Dhoran’s spirit-self waited had done well. He’d found the perfect vessel on his first attempt.
I will reward him. Allow him to…play with these surface dwellers
The host’s memories swirled, mingling with Dhoran’s. A short life so far, but full. Intelligence, pride, and a fierce drive to be of service propelled an unselfish soul. His knowledge remained for Dhoran to draw on, providing necessary information on these foreign surroundings.
Dhoran stared down at his new body. Sensations dead for nearly two decades rushed through him. A strong, regular heartbeat pounded in his chest, radiating warmth to his extremities. Beads of sweat tickled his smooth skin. Cool air moved in and out of his lungs. He trembled at the simple yet intricate workings of life he’d taken for granted, and inhaled deeply. The familiar scent of damp, musty soil permeated his nostrils. A light sweetness lingered in his mouth, and he licked full lips, finding more of this spicy syrupiness. His tongue darted across even teeth blunted with flat surfaces for grinding. He frowned.
There will be no rip and tear to this bite.
Dhoran raised his hands and glared down at the shape and size of them. Static popped. Blue currents snapped and wound around his fingers. His abilities seemed to be intact. But he missed the thick claws and taut muscles that had rippled under the glossy red-gold scales of his body. He recalled how his naked skin had glowed and shimmered in the firelight. With an unsteady reach, Dhoran touched the back of his neck. Long hair clasped in a metal clip replaced the heavy mane that had grown on his head and along his spine. He closed his eyes and growled, angered at the loss.
Dhoran’s true form had been exotically handsome to females from the surface and his underworld. His body had exuded a singular power and grace, evident in the reverence and fear of those subservient to him. His large gold-green eyes had missed nothing, and his notched ears had discerned even the slightest resonance. When he smiled, thin lips slid over sharp teeth.
I would have won the girl over in my previous form.
An icy wind whistled through the warrens.
I must be near an access to the outside world.
Dhoran shivered. He’d forgotten how bitterly frigid the surface of Arranon could get. He preferred the comfort of his underground kingdom. He sighed and nodded, the motion stiff and halting. The temporary sacrifice of warmth would be worth the results.
When Zander Tourani’s daughter joins me, enhancing my power, I will inspire fear throughout the galaxy. No one will dare attack Arranon again. With help from the daughter of my only equal and one true enemy, Arranon will be mine. Forever.
Tourani’s daughter was young, little more than a child. Her inexperience would make her pliable to Dhoran’s will and unwise to the wiles he possessed. He would convince her of the importance of forming a…merger with him. For the good of Arranon, she would agree to a union. The recent invasion of a marauding alien society would add credence to his proposal. He offered the means to keep her home world safe.
First, he had to find her.
A similar ploy to join forces for the safety of Arranon had nearly worked on her father.
Or had Tourani’s compliant manner been a ruse within a trap? Yes. Tourani would consider self-sacrifice a noble end.
Tourani’s deception had triggered his own death, as well as Dhoran’s.
Foolish. Tourani knew I would return. My spirit remains strong. My power will never die. Will there still be those eager to do my bidding awaiting my…re-birth?
Black, oily shadow shapes slithered toward him, silent in their fluid advance. Shifters hissed and bowed their submissiveness. These creatures would obey him without question.
Dhoran tried his voice. “Camorra nah.” The timbre pleased him. He held up his hand, the movement uneven. He growled deep in his throat at the host’s continued resistance. “I will use the predominate language of the surface.” He had no difficulty controlling speech. The tone coming from him was deep and soft, appealing to his ear.
The assembled Shifters deepened their bows and trembled at the sound of their master’s voice.
Good
“Return to our underworld. Advise your brothers to find the girl.” Dhoran’s command demanded fulfillment. “The one who does so will gain my approval and an ample reward.” He chuckled, the rumbling more growl than mirth.
Without a scuff or scrape of flesh on stone, the Shifters disappeared, blending into yawning shadows and leaving the faint stench of putrefying flesh hanging in the chilled air.
Dhoran took a step forward, the action unyielding. He fought for control of this body, arching his back and rolling his head. His arms flexed and extended in a convulsive twitch. A low snarl issued from deep in his chest. “Obey me. You have no choice.” He bit down, slicing the tip of his tongue. The salty, metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. His muscles burned with resistance. He increased the pressure, an internal struggle against the possessed being’s last push of opposition. “I will command this body. When I have accomplished my goal, I may return it to you. If you behave.” A final snap of determination resonated, vibrating through his core.
The fight was over.
Dhoran walked with long easy strides through dim corridors, warrens chiseled by time, elements, and natural cataclysm in the primeval granite. His shadow glided from behind to ahead in the spaced lighting centered at the tunnel’s apex. The click of his boots against stone was music. Icy air caressed his cheeks. The unfamiliar but recognizable scent of trees, spicy and sharp, assaulted his se
nses. His heart rate increased, nerves tingled. He slowed and stopped.
I am close to the surface. How long has it been since I set foot in that hostile environment?
Dhoran’s musings took him to the moments before his premature end. He had steadily rebuilt the forces needed to begin a final battle and seize what he believed was rightfully his.
Arranon.
Years of careful preparation had his armies in place, ready to attack the world above. Then Tourani interfered, overthrowing Dhoran and ruining his strategy for domination.
Dhoran’s breath hitched in with the comprehension of precious time wasted, passed in a temporary death. Anger flared. Lights above him popped, extinguishing in a crackle and whiff of scorched wiring. Electric tendrils snapped and pulsed outward, wrapping Dhoran in a deep- purple glow that reflected off uneven stone walls. He closed his eyes and pulled in the throbbing current. The cavern went black, but the quiet buzz of static remained.
Calm. Breathe. Calm.
The snapping hum quieted, and a preternatural stillness filled the dark. Dhoran’s eyes opened and he smiled. With planning and patience, a most gratifying revenge would be his.
He continued to an alcove with tunnels leading off in several directions. His murk-accustomed eyes detected a faint natural light seeping in from an opening to the cold, sun-bright realm. The soft glow chased away thick slices of darkness. The way to proceed from this intersection was clear to him.
Go to the left.
This was the direction of the possessed one’s work and he was due there soon. The route led him to a daylight-filled bay. Dhoran squinted, turned his gaze away from the cursed brightness, and grimaced when his vision cleared.
Snow. Cold. Wet.
He didn’t know which was worse, blinding white snow or brilliant sunlight. Warm firelight suited him. The way a fire’s warmth encircled him and muted flames danced against the dark.
Large flakes swirled in three massive openings behind…
Interceptors. Fighters.
This information took a moment to filter through a shared mind, a side effect of the recent possession that would soon pass.
Dhoran nodded. The knowledge that these sleek, white forms were warring aircraft, accompanied by a feeling of awe and respect, came from the buried psyche locked away in a prison of flesh. He stopped and stared at the cold deadly force before him. His thoughts turned to Tourani’s daughter. He was anxious to find the girl and begin his conquest of her and Arranon.
From around the closest fighter, a petite female in a heavy white jacket, pants, and boots emerged. Long, curly red hair surrounded her face and draped her shoulders. Dhoran tipped his head and studied her.
Odd, she doesn’t wear her hair in the traditional style of Arranon, clasped at the back of her neck. The color. The curls. This too is unusual.
Recognition of the female caused a flow of admiration and gratitude from the host’s mind.
Ah, she is not Arranon. She is from Korin. Erynn Yager. She is important to Arranon, though. A pilot?
“She’s only a child. And an outsider,” Dhoran scoffed in a low, menacing voice. He remained unimpressed as he studied her.
How could one so young be this accomplished, this distinguished? Why is she here?
Turned in profile to Dhoran, Erynn gazed up from the green glow of the device she held. Ice-blue eyes brightened under long lashes. She smiled at a dark, powerful young man approaching her from the far side of the hangar.
More information surged from a collective base of knowledge.
Jaer. An Anbas Warrior. One of Arranon’s elite.
Dhoran’s attention returned to Erynn.
There is something familiar—
He spun toward the exit.
I must find out more about her
For now, he was due at his duty station.
Being late may bring up difficult questions, and that is no way to start my first day as a human surface dweller
Chapter 2
CAPTAIN ERYNN YAGER PLUMMETED, DIVING straight down. The smooth gray-green surface of the water rushed up at her like a brick wall. Popping blue static swirled over the sleek silver-white body of the Interceptor fighter in response to her delight. A blaring alarm sounded without pause through the cockpit and into her headset, intruding on her elation. Electric tendrils of snapping currents coiled around Erynn’s gloved hand holding tight to the stick and wound up her arm. A bright red light on the control panel flashed, reflecting an eerie maroon glow off the darkened visor of her helmet.
A monotone male voice called, “Pull up. Pull up. Collision imminent. Pull up immediately.”
She smiled, shaking her head. Computer maintenance personnel would need to recalibrate her settings.
Again.
There was no reason for all these alarms and warnings. The adjustments made for her Interceptor were still too sensitive. Erynn brought the nose up and leveled the aircraft less than a meter above the water. Static faded from the skin of the fighter. Around her, the pulsing tendrils were reabsorbed, disappearing into her hands. Flying low and fast over the immense, motionless lake, she glanced toward the far bank. Fresh snow dusted the deep-green trees ringing the icy shore. Not a leaf stirred on the limbs. Not even the tall spire tops swayed.
Odd. There’s usually some wind.
She couldn’t remember a day since she’d arrived on Arranon when the wind hadn’t blown to some degree. However, she’d only been here a few weeks. Before this, she had lived her life in warm sunshine on her home world of Korin.
Erynn stared down. With the surface undisturbed, she could see far into the depths of the water. Layers of colors in gray, green, blue, and brown gave a three-dimensional appearance. She frowned and leaned closer to the canopy. Her helmet pushed against the thick, clear panel. She banked the fighter left, circling, gazing into the lake.
Is that a symbol floating deep below the surface? Hard to tell. Maybe. But…
The image undulated, darkened, and reappeared. Erynn gently guided the Interceptor higher, rising in a lazy spiral above the mark. The figure cleared into view, so obvious at this height. An A-like shape hovered slightly above and over a figure similar to an L.
“A L? What does that mean?” she whispered, continuing to trace a slow circle. Her vision blurred. The cabin filled with a sweet, spicy scent. Iridescent pinpoints of blue light flashed before her eyes.
The Anim Blath.
Her stomach rolled. Often, messages from the Anim Blath included periods of lost time. She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t afford a blackout while flying. “No, not now,” she called. Voice-activated transmission relayed her anxious plea to the control room. She cut her connection to the base. “I’m sorry, but can you understand? Now is not a good time.” She held her breath.
The communication link in her headset crackled. “Captain, ‘not now’ what? What is happening? Are you all right?” There was alarm in the woman’s tone. “Captain Yager?” More concern broke through the static this time.
Comprehension whirled through her mind. “Mije gremar.”
“Yes. Good. You understand. Mije gremar,” she whispered, releasing the air held in her lungs. Her eyes snapped open. The blue lights winked out and the aroma faded. “Thanks.”
“Captain Yager. Do. You. Copy?” Panic tinged the woman’s voice.
Erynn re-established the link. “Stand by.” The surface of the lake rippled, waves growing. White caps obscured the letters in the water. They were now just dappled colors deep under the choppy surge.
Control. Keep control.
She straightened the course of her fighter, flying over the lake and toward home.
“Returning to base,” she said, using her cheerful but professional voice.
I’ll ask Jaer about this place when I get back. He’ll know what the symbol means.
She scanned the horizon of the overcast day that threatened snow. Tree limbs rose and fell under the wind, breaking the icy crust that clung to needle le
aves. She tapped the NAV-COM screen. “Mark coordinates.”
A flat female voice responded from her onboard computer. “Coordinates marked.”
Base Commander General Cale Athru’s voice boomed into her headset. “What happened? Are you all right? What did you find?”
My reactions obviously still alarm the ground crew. Every time I so much as hiccup, they call Cale.
“I’m fine. Just ran into a little…wind.” Erynn grimaced. That would never work, not with Cale. If he was there, Jaer was too. She would have some explaining to do. She smiled, hoping it would relay in her voice, and repeated, “Returning to base.”
“Report to flight control when you’re down.” Cale ended the transmission, and the COM went silent.
She pulled the air mask away from her face, breaking the connection with the control room. “Nothing happened.” The words sounded close in the tight space of the cockpit. “It’s no big deal. Or is it?” She glanced back to watch the last of the lake disappear behind the trees. “Is this a marker to another portal?” She turned her head, staring out the forward panel.
Could this be an access to the bright, icy surface from Dhoran’s dark, warm underworld? Could he, his evil essence, once again be plotting an assault on Arranon, gathering an army of loyal followers?
The Anim Blath’s warning about the four portals echoed in her thoughts. These virtual doorways led to a very real and dangerous place. One of fire, one of air, one of stone and soil, and the last of water.
“Well, I know where that one is,” Erynn mumbled, “and it’s not the lake. This couldn’t be a portal. Could it? Are there tunnels connecting the area around the lake with the base?” Her stomach rolled and her skin prickled with energy. “There’s something I’m missing,” she whispered and glanced around. Nothing seemed out of place.
Like a light that pulsed at the edge of her vision, understanding flitted just beyond her awareness.
Storm of Arranon Fire and Ice Page 1