by Franc Ingram
Lysander remembered the terror he'd felt watching the Gaeth warrior's sword cut into his father. His heart raced while watching his father's bloodied body collapse to the ground as if he were back there in Caledonia. He didn't want to leave his father, or Oleana, but if something wasn't done more monsters from Gaeth would be sent into Caledon. More sons would lose their fathers.
Lysander's father squeezed his hand, seeming to read his thoughts. Lysander hesitated, feeling so guilty for even thinking about leaving his father, but knowing it was the only way to do what was right. "Lorn, Leith." The two kings sat up to look at him. "I'm leaving, tonight."
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Lysander waited patiently at the back steps of The Tower, staring up at a waning moon, overshadowed in brilliance only by the rings that circled their planet. As a child he would look up at the multi-colored rings and think about the stories his parents told him of the brave Heirs of Eternity who fought for peace and justice. Then he dreamed of fighting beside the brave four, his own story enhanced by being part of theirs. Never once did he suspect he would become an Heir himself.
The heft of being an Heir was painful on his shoulders. It made it hard for him to breathe. Lysander felt like he was being torn in four different directions, all of them equally important, and dangerous. His head told him it was vital to go to Gaeth, save his people from slavery, and eliminate Emmaray as a threat before she got bigger. His heart wanted to be close to his father.
It was hard enough being separated from his mother and his homeland for so long, hearing only snatches of what was going on with them from the courier. In its isolated location Evermore felt like it was on another planet. Now he had talked himself into going even further in the wrong direction, and for what?
Maybe The Court was right and he was stretching their resources too thin. Maybe he was being shortsighted. Lysander was crowned king because a mark on his arm, and his unique ability with plants, said he had the right to rule, but only a select number of The Court even stopped to question if he had the ability to rule.
With the crisp night air came a sense of clarity Lysander hadn't expected. Ever since he and his fellow kings had turned down Cornelius' offer to surrender in exchange for Oleana's return, Lysander had been riding waves of extreme anger followed by cold, emotionless periods with no real reason to them.
Up until that confrontation with Cornelius, Lysander had been focused on whether he was powerful enough to rightly be called an Heir of Eternity. Cornelius made him wonder if he had what it took to be a good king.
Lysander watched as two dozen Rangers who volunteered to come with him to Gaeth checked their supplies as quickly and quietly as they could manage. These champions of justice agreed to go against The Court without hesitation. Why? Because the brave, the powerful, the cunning Master of Earth deemed it a good idea. That’s where the problem started for Lysander.
After facing down Cornelius months ago, Lysander knew he made the right decision, but was less confident if he made it for the right reason. Even a fool stumbles upon the right choice once in a while, but Lysander knew that making the right call consistently hinged on doing it for the right reasons.
He was going to Gaeth because it felt right. Was it right for him? For Caledon? For the world at large? Lysander didn't know how to make the distinction and because he was king, and Heir of Eternity, good people followed him trusting him to be true, and that's what scared him most of all.
The door behind Lysander opened and he turned expecting to see Daycia and Zyair only to find himself staring up at a stern-faced Jonathan. Lysander stood in a hurry expecting to have to fight his way free of the city. The sounds of packing, and casual talk ceased, leaving only the howl of the wind to penetrate the night.
"I knew you wouldn't let it drop," Jonathan snorted. "Always think your way is the only way."
Lysander took a quick look around. He was confident he could eliminate Jonathan as a threat and tie him up somewhere to be found later, if it came for that. "Did you share your theory with anyone else?" Lysander asked, taking a slow step closer to the Darten man.
Jonathan smiled. "As a matter of fact, I did." He pushed the door open wide to expose a dozen men and women wearing the colors of Darten and armed to the teeth.
Lysander gripped the handle of his sword, but resisted pulling it free, knowing that if a fight broke out between the two groups, no matter the outcome, everyone would lose. The Heirs would permanently lose The Court and its support, and Lysander's mission would be over before it started.
"Jonathan, I wish to remind you that The Court was formed by us to aide us in decision making, not to dictate terms." Lysander worked hard to keep his tone flat and his breathing even, when he much preferred to settle things with the sword.
Jonathan clasped his hands in front of him, clearly out of easy reach of his weapon. "I'm not here to argue with you. We’re here to help."
Lysander was sure he hadn't heard right. "I don't understand."
Jonathan sighed. "You're clearly going whether The Court agrees or not, and trying to stop you by force would do more harm than good. So I feel, as a member of The Court and a subject of your kingdom it’s my duty to make sure your endeavor is done right." Jonathan pointed back to his men. "We’re at your command."
Lysander looked around, searching for how to respond, what to say. The men and women behind him stood tense, ready to fight at his command. The soldiers in front of him were doing all they could to look as non-threatening as possible. The night cast shadows on every face making the situation all that much more difficult to read.
"And the rest of The Court?" Lysander asked.
Jonathan looked away for a moment, a touch of shame reddening his cheeks. "They know nothing about this. There’ll be consequences for the both of us when we get back. If there is an Evermore and a Court to get back to."
Jonathan sounded genuine. Lysander couldn't see what the older man would gain by playing ally. "I hope y'all packed well, we have a lot of ground to cover. We leave as soon as Daycia and Zyair arrive." Lysander would have to figure out the solution to his emotional turmoil on the move.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: REVELATION
Leith straddled the line between Nadir's room and Oleana's, but even in the predawn hours he found sleep to be illusive. Too many problems fought for dominance in his mind. His worries over Nadir and Oleana's health warred with his fears about Lysander leaving and Ivar coming.
"You shouldn't think so hard, it's going to give you a headache."
Leith smiled over at Oleana. "Didn't think you awake."
"Pain and sleep don't mix well."
Leith kept his eyes glued to Oleana's face even though he wanted so much to look at her arm. Her caramel skin was pale and drawn, but she was alive. After spending months trying to convince himself she was gone, seeing her and speaking to her was a relief too complex for words.
Oleana struggled into an upright position, disturbing Lorn, whose legs were draped across hers. "What has your face so twisted up in the first place?"
Leith groaned, "Lysander made promises I can't be keepin'."
Lorn moaned and stretched, "Told her about your little plan last night." His voice was raspy from rough sleep.
"Not my plan," Leith insisted.
Oleana shed her covers and sat cross-legged on her bed, "Well whoever came up with it, I wish it was mine. Its brilliant."
Leith shook his head. "Suicidal."
"We go out there, round up a couple yetis and throw you at them," Oleana stated calmly.
"No, no," Lorn interjected. "Doctor said you had to rest for a full week, let the arm heal, prevent infection."
"Don't want to risk, but need her," Leith implored.
Lorn pulled the covers back over Oleana's legs as if that would somehow keep her rooted to the bed. "No way. You're not stepping one foot out of this room, much less traipsing around in the bog hunting yetis."
Leith's hope dropped. With Daycia gone and Oleana on bed rest, he
had no way of learning the new trick that so many plans were resting on.
Oleana slapped the bed, making both men jump. "You're the Master of Animals and the yetis are master animals, you were born for this challenge." Oleana looked to her son and her wide eyes narrowed, and turned serious. "You have a strong connection with them, I know it."
Leith relaxed for a moment. He closed his eyes and opened his other senses up. All the animals inside and around Evermore were like white noise Leith had learned to tune out. Large predators like the yetis made big enough disturbances that he couldn't ignore them. Leith felt tense for hours, a feeling he'd attributed to all the crazy things going on of late. Now that he was paying attention he realized he could feel the yetis were close. At least two of them were within a mile of the city.
Leith nodded. "They be close."
Oleana patted his knee. "You can't let this opportunity pass by. You don't need me out there with you. I can help guide you through the process here," she gestured with her amputated arm which brought a grimace to her face, whether it was from physical pain, or the painful reminder of what she had lost, Leith couldn't tell, "and Lorn can support you out there."
Lysander had trusted Lorn and he built an epic living wall. Leith could trust Lorn to help him defeat the yetis. "Show me."
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"You know there’s a high likelihood that one of us is going to get mauled," Lorn explained, as he hiked up his mud boots.
Leith glanced behind them. "Still in sight of gate an already chicken out," Leith chided. Oleana's tutoring session took about half an hour so it was just after midday when they made it out past the gate of Evermore.
He didn't think the yetis would be active so early in the day, but Leith had no intention of hunting for them after dark. He knew the paths of solid ground in the marsh but that wasn't enough advantage over a yeti at night.
"I'm not scared," Lorn insisted, "just stating the facts."
"Keep 'em to yourself."
Leith hefted two daggers making sure his grip was firm. Lorn had done away with the bow and decided to stick with a short sword and dagger. He wore nothing but a thick leather vest for armor. Leith had done the same, preferring speed and stealth over bulky armor. If they had to fight their way free they were already lost.
Lorn bounced on the balls of his feet before taking off at a light jog. It was a pace Leith had no trouble keeping up with despite the younger man's longer legs. The untamed area around Evermore was large and dangerous, with all manner of wild beast calling it home. There was no telling when they would run into any yeti signs, if at all. They'd already promised Oleana not to stray too far from the city or stay out too long, but the urgency of the matter rang in Leith's ears.
"Do you really forgive me?" Lorn asked, breaking the monotony of their run.
The question was so out of place Leith didn't know how to answer it.
"For going alone after my mom. Do you really forgive me? I mean, how can you? I just left, no warning, no argument, just left. Because of it Paxis and Silver are dead, Ivar is out for our blood, and The Court trusts us even less. How could you forgive me? I can't forgive myself."
The wet, decaying, wild landscape around them took on a more oppressive aura. The dark green vines snaking up trees wasn't strengthening it, it was choking it.
"Loyalty an' love pushed you to go after her. Guilt and love give me understanding, even forgiveness." Leith slowed hoping the excuse of fatigue would cover the melancholy that settled deep in his chest. "Consequences be heavy for all of us. We let em' make us better for next time." Leith felt a tingling at the back of his neck that made him stop dead. "Got yetis ahead."
Lorn stood on his tiptoes, giving him a better view than even his natural lankiness did, and completed a full circle. In the bog, the clustering of trees wasn't thick enough to impede movement, but the dark green, thin-branched bog trees spread out as far as the eye could see. It was rare to find more than two square feet without at least a bush sticking out of it.
It took experience to know that a dense cluster of trees marked the erosion of solid ground. And it was at the edges of those dense cluster, where the growth of the trees had forced what soil was there into a solid lump, that they could follow a sure path.
"There looks to be a small island of land southwest of us about fifteen yards," Lorn pointed out. "You should be able to jump across to it no problem, and it'll give you safe haven while I heard the yetis toward you."
"It leavin' you alone."
Lorn stared at him with an irritated lift to his brow, mirroring Oleana. "Even more reason for you to figure out your trick quickly, before I get mauled. Got a better plan?"
Leith wanted to say yes, begged his brain for something better, but came up short.
"Then quit wasting time and get moving."
Leith thought about commenting how Lorn had Oleana's attitude plus some extra mouth, but he thought against insulting the only backup he had against the yetis. Instead, he went where Lorn directed, throwing a rock onto the area Lorn suspected was an island, and testing the mote around it with his foot. Both were as guessed, and it took him a running jump to cross over the black waters safely. Once he found a good spot to plant himself and looked around, he realized Lorn was already gone.
Connecting with the yetis was like trying to force a tornado into a burlap sack. The ranta, bears, wolves, all of them were nothing compared to the yetis. Just the burning warmth that spread across his chest when they were close was uncomfortable enough, but when Leith made an effort to lock on to them, get to know what they were feeling, he felt overwhelmed.
His own mind was drowning in a sea of anger and hunger, the desire to rip and tear into anything that got within range. All that was before Lorn got close. Leith had to use every ounce of control he had to keep from losing himself in the yeti’s urges. He wished he was back in the Crystal Tower, using its amplifying abilities to give him a needed boost. If he hadn't been so eager to get away from The Court, and the angry locals, he would have thought about it sooner.
Leith closed his mind against the yeti onslaught, regaining his bearings. He remembered what Oleana said about the time she melded all four of them. She relaxed and let the other minds flow over her until she got a feel for them. She had to become a part of them. Only then could she gain control.
Leith made sure he was firmly rooted to the spot before opening himself up to the coming yetis again. He guessed Lorn was close to them, the yeti pair felt tense. They knew something not of the marsh was coming their way.
Leith fought against the urge to freeze them where they stood. He wasn't ready yet. He didn't know the yetis well enough to know what their trigger points were. He felt the instinct to decide whether to hunt or flee from this newcomer. There was higher thinking going on that Leith couldn't tap into. It was like hearing only half of a very important conversation.
Whatever the yetis decided, their hearts started beating faster and Leith felt the warm euphoria of excitement spread across his face. They were choosing to go on the hunt. Lorn was going to get a fight faster than he was expecting unless Leith did something.
Leith felt free as his yetis tore through the marsh with ease, finding sure footing at speeds he could barely keep up with. How they knew where to walk and when to dodge he couldn't fathom, but it came naturally to them and Leith let the feeling fill him.
The yetis weren't all that different from other predators he'd come against, they were just more intense, their minds divided. They still had instincts that could be manipulated for whatever purpose Leith wished.
Before he could think, Lorn and the yetis collided. The younger man jumped out of a group of bushes, catching a yeti across the shoulder with his short sword, before disappearing back into the forest too fast for the yetis to keep up with. Leith felt the blow as if he were the one attacked, but instead of shying away from the pain, he like the yeti, was emboldened, eager for the fight.
Leith felt the yeti's animal instincts fl
are. There was little time for reason. They were on the hunt, relying on a keen sense of hearing and a sharp sense of smell to track a difficult target through rough terrain. Off they went after the Master of Skies.
Lorn tried another sneak attack, somehow managing to veer off to the left and swinging back around, but the yetis were ready for him. He clipped one on the back of his head, but the other turned in time to rake its claws across his back. Lorn was strong, he didn't let it slow him. He hid amongst the trees while the yetis took a minute to savor the smell of fresh blood in the air. Leith could taste the fresh bite of copper and iron with a hint of salt on his tongue.
Leith understood how to control them. The yetis were all about wild urges that made them largely unpredictable, but he could use that same instinct to drive them mad, or paralyze them. He couldn't let Lorn get hurt again. So, when the yetis were done familiarizing themselves with Lorn's scent, now that his open wound was spilling it into the air, Leith let himself drown in the sensory experience.
The electrifying tang of Lorn's adrenaline was mixed with the savory notes of his young, strong flesh. Under the surface smell of sweat and fear was a scent unique to Lorn. It was the smell of the raw power of the Master of Skies, like ozone and fresh rain. Then there was the urgency to Lorn's flight that burned through his veins pushing him/them forward.
Leith remembered the aftereffects of merging with the other Heirs months ago. His brain didn't know how to process the new information then, so he’d created new connections, allowing him to see sound waves as different colors in the air. Even in such a small dose the synesthesia was overwhelming. Leith had to give the yetis a massive dose for it to work on them.
Leith opened their senses so every particle of Lorn's blood in the air crashed across their skin like minuscule bombs, flooding their nervous systems with a fiery trail of information they couldn't process. Then he opened their eyes until every beat of Lorn's heart was like a brilliant flash of red light burning their retinas.