Kings of Euphoria (Euphoria Duology Book Two)

by Franc Ingram

  He saw two war canoes spitting fire out of their backsides and skirting the coastline, their oars scraping against the edges of the plants root system. Lysander ducked back behind the cliff, hoping he hadn't been spotted.

  "Lysander!" Zyair called.

  Lysander waved for him to be quiet. "Incoming," he mouthed, pointing back behind him.

  Zyair pulled his sword free of its scabbard, his eyes narrowing. "We found the tube," he explained, pointing to were Daycia was half buried by the ocean, her hands holding onto something beneath the water.

  Lysander ran as best he could back to his companions. "Get the gear and get in," he ordered. There was no time to make sure this one led back to the big island. As long as it led away from those canoes, Lysander was willing to go through it.

  Zyair didn't need further encouragement, leveraging himself back over the low haul of the ship and throwing bags over without making sure anyone was there to grab them. Jonathan was out of the boat, along with his contingent of soldiers from Darten, scooping up the supplies and following Daycia's direction.

  Lysander kept glancing over his shoulder to see if he could see the canoes coming. When his eyes failed him, he made brief contact with the plant. He could feel the ripples of concern run through it. Lysander encouraged growth from its root system, forcing it to bulk up from the sea floor, hoping to at least slow their pursuers until everyone could get into the hole.

  Lysander hated messing up the balance of such a delicate, intricate plant. He didn't know what the long-term effects would be, but he had to give the others a chance. This was his mission and he wasn't going to come away in defeat. His failures in Caledonia wouldn't be repeated in Gaeth.

  The island plant immediately obliged his command, drawing on the rich nutrients of the sea floor. Lysander could imagine what the sudden erosion of bits of the seabed was going to do to the crab that almost attacked him earlier. A glance back showed Jonathan and most of his crew were already gone, leaving Daycia and Zyair to follow. Lysander let go of the plant, wishing it peace as he left. Then he made his way back to the lava tube.

  "Here. Do you feel it?" Daycia said guiding his offered hand to the edge. "Just follow the current. When the pull ebbs that means there's a pocket of air there. Keep your head low, these tubes are usually smooth, but there can be the occasional outcropping, and at the speeds the water can take you it will hurt to come across one. And if you feel heat, swim as fast as you can the opposite direction."

  Lysander was about to duck his head in when he froze. "What? Why?"

  "These tubes are created by lava flow. This one has a smooth edge so it hasn't been active in a long time, but mother knows we're coming so things might have changed. Don’t worry though, the water will heat up way before the lava gets anywhere near you."

  "Umm," Lysander gave Zyair a confused look. The older man looked just as worried, but just shrugged.

  "That doesn't mean that the superheated water can't kill you," Daycia added calmly, her eyes darting back to where the canoes would be coming from.

  "You mention this now!" Lysander sputtered, not sure which threat seemed more manageable. "Of all the stupid. Dangerous. Idiotic. How is this something you're just mentioning now?"

  "Just take a deep breath and get in," Daycia said, giving him a shove against his back.

  Lysander shook his head. He envisioned lava careening toward him, melting off his skin as he screamed in agony. That wasn't the way a Ranger was supposed to go, and it was definitely not the way a king should die. Daycia pushed at him again. Lysander sucked in as much air as his lungs could hold, grabbed hold of the lip of the tube and pulled himself in, letting the current do most of the work.

  Before he could orient himself, the rushing water dragged him forward. Lysander fought against the urge to fight to the surface. He relaxed and let it take him, making sure to keep his arms close to his face for protection. He bobbed and weaved along the tube, occasionally bumping against the side.

  He was blind and struggling for air when the pace slowed and Daycia's words echoed in his ears. There had to be an air pocket nearby. Lysander swam for the direction he thought was up. His limbs felt heavy, but his need for air surpassed the sluggishness.

  When the top of his head breached the surface, Lysander opened his eyes getting a blast of salt water. Then he was above water from the neck up, and he could breathe. The air was thick with salt and the iron rich tang of the lava rock. While he floated there, waiting for the shakiness in his body to subside, and the burning in his eyes to ease, something bumped into his legs nearly dragging him back under.

  Zyair's head popped up out of the water then got sucked back down. Lysander grabbed him by the back of the shirt and lifted him up into the free air. Zyair patted his hand, unable to speak. The look of gratitude in his eyes was enough.

  "Relax, I got you," Lysander said.

  Daycia was next to come by. She popped up like a fish. A smile plastered across her face. "Wooh, that was fun! Man, how I've missed this."

  "Almost drowning is fun?" Zyair asked wiping at the water on his face.

  "Oh please, it would take more than this tube to drown you." Daycia spun around splashing in the water like an excited dolphin. "When you two are done complaining we need to catch up with the others." Daycia dove back into the water before he could object.

  Zyair and Lysander exchanged looks. It wasn't as intuitive as it would have been with one of his brothers, but Lysander got the gist of what was unsaid. Neither one of them were going to be out done by Daycia, or the stupid tube.

  "On three," Lysander suggested. Zyair nodded. "One, two," Lysander dove back into the water, this time in a more controlled manner, keeping track of his direction. He spotted Daycia's feet as she continued to pull ahead. He glanced behind at Zyair who seemed to be more comfortable with the water this time around. Lysander let the current take him, swimming with it, waiting for that next pocket of air. He could make it. And then he would never get near another lava tube again.

  Lysander came out of the lava tube in a cave. The rocks around him were a unique shade of black and crimson with flecks of white thrown in sporadic spots. Even with Daycia's help, it took considerable effort for Lysander to extract himself from the swirling pool of water at the heart of the cave. Jonathan and his men were sprawled out on the bumpy ground around the edges as if they'd just hiked up a mountain. Lysander couldn't blame them.

  The long periods of holding his breath, and the short bursts of grabbing air in the few air pockets available, was exhausting. There were a few occasions Lysander was certain he would drown before reaching the next bit of air. His lungs burned, his limbs felt like limp noodles. Even his eyes couldn't focus. Lysander hugged the rocks, thankful to be free of the tube and the deadly water it contained.

  Lysander heard Daycia's lilting voice but had no idea, and frankly didn't care, what she was saying. He wanted to sleep, and her voice would do nicely as a lullaby. The rocks beneath him were surprisingly warm, like a heated blanket. Lysander curled up, closed his burning eyes, and begged for sleep.

  "Lysander!" Daycia yelled, pushing him over with her foot.

  He blinked up at her, holding tight to the burst of anger that burned through him. She'd forced him into the tube, insisted it wasn't that dangerous, and now all he wanted was a moment's peace and she wouldn't even give him that. "What?"

  "We can't stay here," she said, her eyes soft and understanding." Emmaray is sure to send The Elevated this way."

  Lysander remembered the elite soldiers he faced off against on the shores of Caledonia. The leaders of the Gaeth forces were strong, skilled warriors with not a touch of mercy in their dark eyes. Lysander chilled at the thought of the man who run his father through with his sword. He would be forever haunted by the disinterested look on the man's face as he wiped crimson droplets off on Nadir's shirt.

  Lysander swallowed hard, forcing the painful memory back into the dark cage at the back of his mind where it belonged. Still,
fear lingered, making his mouth dry and his skin tight. "Lead the way," he said reluctantly.

  Daycia pulled him to his feet. He still felt wobbly and thought belatedly to make sure his sword was still with him. Zyair was next to be leveraged up with a grunt.

  Jonathan, stoic as ever, cracked his eyes open, turning to look at Lysander before laying his icy stare on Daycia. "Where do you plan to take us this time, over a lava lake? Into a tsunami?"

  "Maybe just you," Daycia quipped. She kept from smiling, but her violet eyes lit up.

  Jonathan shook his head but stood anyway, wringing his clothes out as best he could. Their bags of gear made the trip as well, though one still needed fishing out of the turbulent water at the mouth of the tube. Lysander hefted the twenty-pound bag onto his shoulders, the weight feeling twice what it was in his worn-out state. His back burned, and his knees knocked together, but he pushed forward as Daycia led them out.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN: FIGHT FOR EVERMORE

  Leith spent hours in front of the gate, waiting until Ivar and his men made their first move. The fighting didn't start until nightfall. Only the flickering torches, the full moon, and the sparkling silver rings surrounding the planet lit up the night sky.

  The yetis foolishly tried knocking down the massive door of the south gate. When it didn't move an inch after twenty minutes, they turned to scaling the walls. The thorns discouraged some. The archers, led by Yael on top of the wall, caught others. Arrissa, acting as gofer, reported a loss of half a dozen yetis before the assault was called off.

  Leith spread out enough of his men atop the wall, knowing the yetis wouldn't give up so easy. All the waiting was starting to wear thin. Leith wanted nothing more than a good night's sleep and a good meal. Instead, he was out watching the moon creep across the sky, wondering if Ivar was going to be the first ever to breach Evermore's tower.

  The cold breeze that swept in felt good against Leith's fevered brow. He stood before the barricaded south gate waiting for whatever came next. Kameke stood on his right side, as silent and still as the wall in front of them, like none of it mattered to her.

  Leith studied her for a moment, trying to discover her secret so he could adopt it for his own use. Her pale eyes darted back and forth, taking in everything, but showing no emotions. She was cold and calculating, not missing a detail, not being clouded by fear. Leith yearned to be so detached.

  Back in Solon he'd kept to himself, avoided attachments so he’d only had to worry about himself. It was a lonely, spare life, but in times of distress it kept his focus clean. Survive. That's all he’d had to do. There had been no one to protect. No one to disappoint. All he’d had was himself, and survival was all he’d needed.

  Now his mistakes would cost lives. It could cost a whole city. Yet all he could feel in the moment was a fear for his own life, the thumping of his own blood rushing in his ears, the feel of his sweat pooling down his back. Yet Kameke stood calm as a rock.

  "This is a neutral city," Kameke said, standing beside him in the front-line station they had set up on the main road into Evermore. "Ivar should not be treating it this way."

  Leith wondered what thoughts roamed behind Kameke's stoic eyes. Out of all the ultras, she was the only one that stayed true to the original path The Twelve gave her a thousand years ago. She’d built and maintained the Crystal Tower that was meant to serve as a safe haven, a meeting place. It was supposed to be a place where the ultras could gather and speak to their creators, gaining any knowledge they needed to further their purpose.

  When the ultras rebelled, and went contrary to the tasks given to them, the avenue of communication with the Twelve had been cut off. Kameke was left alone to suffer the consequences of others. When humans occasionally found their way through the maze that was the Wild Zone, Kameke was able to fulfill the role of Keeper for the villagers she looked out for, but it was a far cry from all that she could do.

  Now with the Heirs calling The Tower their home, it put her and her villagers in danger. If there was any other place suitable for the task Leith would have been the first to suggest it, but as Kameke was so often saying, Evermore was neutral. There were to be no affiliations to any one realm, and the Heirs needed that. It couldn’t look like they favored one realm over another. Still, because of them, violence was at her door once again and for that, he felt sorry.

  "Ivar and Cornelius care only bout themselves. Which is why we got need to cut 'em off quick."

  "It's always violence first with you people," Kameke replied, her face wrinkled in disappointment. "Why do we not try to talk with Ivar? Make him see reason. Even a brute like that has to respect something that you have to offer.

  Leith doubted that to be true, but he thought that if he didn't even try he was no better than his enemy, one who used violence and fear to control those around him. Kameke was right. They had chosen violence first without thinking twice about it. When did he become that person, one quick to draw a sword and fight it out, instead of using his wit or his speed to avoid situations?

  "How we talk to 'em? He the one start fight." Kameke stared at Leith with suspicion written all over her ovoid face, doubt dulling in her crystal green eyes. "Honestly, I want know."

  It was hard to read Kameke. It was like centuries of minding The Tower with very little contact with the outside world had eroded some of the subtle nuances of human communication. The Crystal Ultra was hard, like the medium she worked with. Her stare was blank and her eyes hard as she looked him over.

  "I can go out to him, offer him a chance to parley."

  It was Leith's turn to look confused.

  Kameke smiled. "To talk."

  "They tear you apart soon you step out!"

  Suddenly, Kameke shimmered and crystal rippled all along her skin where it was visible, until she was encased in the stuff. Even her long eyelashes were crystallized. Without thinking, Leith reached out to touch her cheek.

  It was warm to his touch, and hard as a rock. No arrow or sword would be able to puncture it. When she smiled the crystal flexed just as if it were her skin. "That some trick," he said. Then he realized how close they were. Leith dropped his hand and took a step back. "Sorry. Didn't mean to."

  The Keeper shrugged. "It's not a form I use often." Her voice sounded a little off, deeper somehow having to pass through the extra layer.

  "How you breathe?"

  "The crystal is porous enough to let air in. I can't eat or drink like this though."

  Leith shook his head. "Never seen something so beautiful."

  "I..."

  Leith realized how that sounded. "The crystal. Well, meant you too, but ...," Leith didn't know what to say. He couldn't find the right words to explain what he meant.

  "I understand," Kameke said. "So, do you approve of me going out there to try and broker peace?"

  "Be no fear in you?" Leith asked, forgetting his manners.

  Kameke turned to him, her wide eyes inquisitive. "What is there to fear?" Leith opened his mouth to speak, but knew couldn’t find the words to explain what should have been obvious. Kameke continued, "The Tower and I were here before the other ultras, way before you humans. If I die here then so be it. I'll do everything in my power to prevent it, but if the end is what is near, then I face it the same way I have all other things, with curiosity and acceptance."

  "Love you girl," Leith said, unable to keep the smile off his face.

  "That's a foolish response...," Kameke started.

  "Do it," Leith squeaked, hoping to keep any more foolishness from escaping his lips. "Be sure n' come back to me."

  Kameke nodded.

  "Archers watching." Leith pointed toward the top of the wall. He looked around for Arrissa. She was with a group of Rangers milling about trying to find something to occupy their mind as they waited. He waved her over.

  "Yes, sire? Uhm," her eyes cut to the transformed Kameke and she stammered, eyes wide. But she pulled herself together and focused on Leith. "What's the message this time?" />
  "Kameke gonna talk to Seth. Yael need keep an eye out. Five minutes."

  "Aye," she said with a nod, turning to run off without another word.

  Leith ticked off the seconds in his head. At most, it would take Arrissa less than a minute to reach Yael, and him less than a minute to give the order and prepare his men. That gave Kameke plenty of time to close the distance to the wall and make her way out. Whether making contact with Ivar would be so easy, he doubted it. But Leith wouldn't feel right without giving her a chance to at least try. What would it hurt to hear Ivar out, while if they didn't, many lives would be lost before all was over?

  Kameke strolled through the street as if she was just going for a nice walk and not about to talk to a bloodthirsty enemy. She had the rolling walk of a dancer.

  Leith couldn't help but watch her go. He was mesmerized by her, the way she talked, the way she was warming up to them after these months of close proximity. Leith knew what it was like to be all alone and self-reliant one minute, then to be thrown together with a bunch of others forced to work together for a common purpose. He just hoped that when her talk failed, Kameke would see the need to crush the enemy as quickly as possible.

  He felt a familiar warmth spreading along his forearm, and he scratched at it absentmindedly. In Evermore, he ran into the sensation several times a day, living so close to the other Heirs. It was white noise he'd grown used to ignoring.

  "Lorn," someone yelled behind him. Leith turned to see Oleana stumbling down the road. Her unkempt hair stuck up at odd angles on her head and her coat hung half on her body, threatening to slide off at any moment.

  Two of the Rangers guarding the tent went to intercept her but didn't know exactly how to handle her. They just walked on either side of her, ignored by Oleana, as she stumbled forward.

  "Shhh," Leith said. He walked up to her, helping her finish putting the coat on. "Leith's not here, remember? He went to Darten." Oleana reeked of alcohol. Her eyes were bloodshot and she stared at Leith, her mouth half open as if it took more concentration than she possessed to keep it closed.