Alien Romance Box Set: Alien Former: Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Books 1-5)

by Ashley L. Hunt

  I moved to stand, and the claws of one of my bare feet scuffed against the stone. Joanna snapped awake, her arm flying up to smack my still-outstretched hand away from her. Her eyes snapped open, and I froze. Those were not the same eyes I had gazed into last night. They were not warm with inner light- they were empty and flat, and something deep inside them writhed with unspoken fury. Her face was as stone. She didn't move, didn't say or do anything. But the threat in that stare was unmistakable. I felt the beginnings of an instinctive growl tickling at the back of my throat, and my body tensed, ready to fend off the impending attack. Then Joanna blinked and sat up, yawning sleepily. "Hello, Vol," she said around the yawn, speaking in her people's language. "How did you sleep?" Her eyes had resumed their usual warm, friendly state, and she didn't seem to know that anything had happened. She frowned, noticing the look on my face. "What's wrong?"

  I shook my head and finished standing. “Nothing.” I turned and walked over to where we had laid out our clothes to dry. “I’m just ready for this journey to be over.”

  Joanna seemed to notice her own nakedness then, and she stood, making little abortive motions as she instinctively tried to cover herself with her arms. After a moment, she seemed to come to terms with the ridiculousness of such an attempt, and she stopped, instead standing and joining me in sorting through our spread-out clothing.

  By the time we finished dressing and collecting our gear, Nissikul and Thukkar came back over to us, bearing an assortment of fruits and edible fungi, piled in the center of Thukkar's ragged cloak. We chatted companionably through the meal, all of us pretending we weren't increasingly anxious as to what fresh horrors awaited us beyond this room. Nissi and Thukkar recounted their passage through a room filled with various traps, each one of them poisoned. It was clear that someone didn't want this place disturbed. That made sense if this temple was somehow directly connected to Ravanur. This place was sacred to our people, and we already felt like interlopers for trespassing upon holy ground. That this place had been strewn with traps was not very surprising, considering how thoroughly it had been sealed away beneath the ice. No one was supposed to set foot in Ravanur's temple ever again. But here we were.

  When we finished our meal, we once again took up our packs and set off toward the wall of the chamber that Joanna thought was the right one. Upon arriving, we were surprised to see that the wall was solid. There was no sign of a door, no cracks, no latch, nothing. We circled the garden cave twice and found no secret way forward in any direction. Returning to the cave wall, we tried everything we could think of to effect change. Nissi summoned up what dregs of power she could access under this much stone, but to no avail. Thukkar and I tried our hammers on the craggy stone, but that did little more than create a pile of rock shards at our feet. Finally, Joanna sighed and placed a hand flat against the wall. Nothing happened.

  Just as I was about to suggest that we try backtracking, Joanna abruptly shuddered and fell hard against the wall, groaning through gritted teeth as she gripped it as if her life depended on it. The air grew thick around us, buzzing with invisible energy as if a great surface storm were coming to life all around us. Still leaning against the featureless wall, Joanna twisted one arm and reached into her ranger's pack, withdrawing a familiar dense, black shape that I recognized immediately. It was the heart of a burug; the strange metal device found within every single one of the insectoid predators. It looked like an oversized Erinye heart, and as I watched, it began to beat in her hand. Each wriggling, writhing movement of the heart spewed little jets of black powder into the increasingly humid air around us, and as we watched, the wall began to melt away, dissolving like a liquid into a new shape. I met Nissikul's eyes, and to my surprise, she didn't seem shocked by this new development. Her eyes were wide, and she was clearly terrified, but behind the terror, I could see something else in her face. Recognition.

  The temperature in the garden began to drop, rapidly, and despite the fact that we were encased in solid stone, I thought I could feel a breeze whispering through the cavern behind us. No longer able to brace herself against the wall, Joanna fell forward to her knees, writhing in pain. I stepped forward to help her stand, but Nissikul stopped me with a hand. "No. This is how it begins. If you interfere, you will surely die."

  I froze, horrified, and waiting for Nissi to tell me more. Her mouth firmed into a grim line, however, and she would say no more. I looked to Thukkar for support, but he was completely stricken with mingled awe and fear, and he wouldn't look away from the spectacle unfolding before him- even as he took slow, careful steps back away from Joanna.

  The wall that had stood before us was now gone, and in its place was the front of a great mausoleum, its massive, carved face supported by twisting pillars of stone that stretched all the way to the floor of the cavern like elongated stalactites. Hundreds of scenes from the High Epic were carved into the structure’s surface, each of them rendered in exquisite detail. Steps swept up from where Joanna writhed, leading to an array of open archways into darkness. Her face still twisted in agony, Joanna planted one foot on the stone and stood slowly, shakily, throwing her shoulders back in defiance and screaming a challenge up at the dark tomb.

  A figure began to coalesce from the air before her, and without hesitation, Joanna drew out her bright, curved sword, aiming the tip at the emerging head. The being seemed to have been shaped from lightning, and its broad, masculine frame was clothed in dark shrouds of storm cloud. It crossed its monstrous forearms over its chest and regarded Joanna silently, its face enigmatic. A tense moment stretched, in which Thukkar, Nissi and I didn’t dare move. “What is that?” I whispered to my sister.

  Nissikul laughed, the sound high and hysterical. “He is the Herald of Ravanur, the greatest of her servants! Beware, brother, for you look upon the Great North Wind!” I felt the blood drain from my face, and it was all I could do to keep to my feet. The Great North Wind was the bringer of the storms, the patron spirit of the Stormcallers, and one of the most feared beings in all of my people’s lore. It was he that forever scoured the surface of Ravanur’s frozen skin, devouring the unwary and destroying any servant of the Dark Ones that dared to attempt a rescue of its imprisoned masters. The regular storms were bad enough, but when one came howling down from the north, even the hardiest of the Erin-Vulur knew to hide far beneath the ice. Anyone caught out in such a terrible tempest would be flayed to the bone, and their bones would be ground to dust and spread across half of Ravanur- anyone but a Stormcaller. And now Joanna was standing before him in abject defiance, challenging him with the point of her sword. She looked so frail before such majesty and overwhelming power, but she did not falter. She met the glowing ember stare of the Great North Wind and dared him to move. The terrible spirit of the storm watched her for a moment that seemed to last an eternity. Then, he threw back his head and laughed, and I was deafened by cascading thunder, blinded by the flashing radiance of his seething skin.

  When I could see again, and my hearing returned to me, I looked up to see the Great North Wind speaking quietly to Joanna, a hand resting casually on her shoulder as if they were old friends. I could not make out the words, but whatever passed between them seemed to shake Joanna to her core. Her shoulders slumped, and her sword dangled from her grasp, the tip dragging against the smooth stone beneath her feet. “What is happening?” I asked, but Nissikul shook her head. Wait, her face said. So I waited. They spoke for just a little while longer, and then the demigod straightened up. His burning eyes shaped a sad smile as he regarded Joanna with… was that sympathy? As abruptly as he had come, the Great North Wind disappeared, unraveling into spiraling patterns of light and twisting remnants of spun cloud.

  I dashed over to her, my heart pounding in my chest. “What was that?” I blurted, forgetting to switch to her language. “Are you alright?”

  Joanna turned toward me; her face turned blank and expressionless as the stone beneath her feet. "I'm fine," she said in my tongue, but as she spoke, a
thin dribble of blood eked from one of her nostrils and traced a red line down to her mouth. "We've done it. We've been allowed into the temple. Come on, let's have this done."

  I wanted to push, to bombard her with questions, to look her over for damage myself, but I reined in my worry. She was a god, or at least she was about to become one. Where she was going, what was happening- it was the purview of the gods, not of mortals like me, or even exalted mortals like my sister. "Lead on," I said simply. "I'm with you to the end."

  Joanna’s face crumpled, and for the barest of instants, she wasn’t herself, wasn’t the woman I had fought to find and protect. She wasn’t even the dead-eyed thing I had seen by the remains of last night’s fire. She was a little girl, a child, battered and terrified. She looked up at me with eyes wet with the threat of tears and said, in her own language, “Do you promise?”

  I didn’t know what she meant, but faced by the raw anguish in her eyes, I agreed without hesitation. “I promise, Joanna.”

  The mask reformed as the others came up from behind and joined us, and Joanna was once again hard, confident, and self-assured. “Then let’s finish this,” she said in the tongue of the Erin-Vulur. “I will need all of you for what is to come.”

  …

  Joanna

  We climbed the temple steps with the thick scent of ozone from the passing of the lightning god thick in our noses. The others were silent, except for the occasional pained grunt from Thukkar as he negotiated the steep stone staircase. I kept my face empty of expression, not wanting to reveal the turmoil within me to my companions- least of all to Volistad. My mask had slipped, but he didn’t know. He couldn’t know.

  We reached the top, passing between the great stalactite pillars, and before us were wide portals into darkness, separated only by slim pillars to turn the open space into a chain of doors. The effect reminded me of old pictures of the Coliseum in pre-war Greece. I wondered if there were lions waiting in the dark to devour me. It wouldn't be exactly what the burning man of storms had told me, but it might fit the spirit of the situation.

  As we approached the doors, light blossomed, deep within the dark, quickly filling the space within with a cold, stark glow. I couldn’t tell from where the illumination grew. It lit everything clearly, but it cast no shadows on the stone beneath my feet. This lent a surreal aspect to everything around me. I felt like I was walking in a dream.

  The center of the room was dominated by a massive stone altar. Like the rest of the temple, it had been apparently shaped from a single piece of stone, but it was not pristine and unstained. Dark stains turned the whole upper face of the perfect rectangular block almost black. I didn’t want to guess what those stains were from- though I could guess. The clawed fingers of the ritual tool we had seen in the temple’s atrium snapped shut in my mind. I swallowed hard. There was no way out of this, but to go through it. I drew in a deep breath and mustered my confidence. Then, in the most commanding tone I could muster, I shouted “RAVANUR!”

  The presence of the Erinye god was immediately apparent. The temperature of the air around us dropped, plummeting by at least thirty degrees Celsius in a few seconds. Even with my restored "blessing," I felt her arrival in the instant ripple of gooseflesh that rippled up both of my arms. There was no flash of light, no blast of thunder, no other display of overt power. One moment, there were three people standing before the great, stained altar. Then there were four.

  I turned and met the eyes of the Great Mother of the Erinye, even as my three companions immediately prostrated themselves before her. She was just as I had seen her in my dreams, lithe and catlike and hauntingly beautiful. She grinned, baring a predator’s fangs, and spoke in Pan-American, her tone almost loving. “Joanna. My chosen. You survived the trip here.”

  I didn't return the warmth that she displayed. "No thanks to you, dead god. Your temple nearly killed us. Why in the hell do you have a pool full of burug back there? And would it have killed you to tell me about the traps?” Though I knew my companions could not understand all of my words, they definitely took my meaning. Nissikul, in particular, seemed paralyzed with shock at my forwardness and disrespect.

  Ravanur laughed, making the same coughing, jaguar's growl that I had heard from Volistad. "I didn't put the traps there, my child. Those were the handiwork of my ancient worshippers before this place was lost. It would have been a disservice to their memory for me to interfere with the remnants of their last service to me."

  I snorted. “How considerate of you.”

  "Yes, well," Ravanur said diffidently. "Even a god can be sentimental if she wishes to be." She looked down at my companions as if noticing them for the first time. "But that doesn't mean that I have time for undue silliness. Get up, all of you. I have never required obeisance from the Erinye; that was an invention of your idiot priests."

  Evidently, though I heard Ravanur speaking in my language, my friends also understood her perfectly. They reacted to her rebuke like they had been slapped. They rose awkwardly, trying simultaneously to stand confidently and show deference to their god. Nissikul looked like her face was going to twitch right off of her head and slither away in agitation. Thukkar seemed to be trying not to laugh or, alternately, vomit. Volistad apparently had no idea what to do with his hands. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

  I turned back to Ravanur. “I spoke to your servant. He told me what this would entail. He told me about-”

  Ravanur raised a hand, cutting me off. "He might have told you about the ritual, but he did not tell you about the stakes. If you are willing, I would reveal the full extent of the war in which you are about to find yourselves." She stepped forward and placed a hand on my head. Her touch was cool and strangely soothing, as if she was my long forgotten mother calming her anxious child. "To that end, and to assist in the duties you will be assuming, I am going to give you knowledge of the Erinye language. It's really my language, and it's all that remains of my people. Use it well." The now familiar sensation of a red-hot poker stabbing into my brain exploded through my skull, and I staggered. Volistad was beside me in a second, supporting me with a firm hand on my upper arm. As quickly as it had come, the pain faded, and I glared up at the Erinye god, biting back a curse.

  Ravanur appeared unconcerned with my discomfort, but that didn't surprise me. She was a god, supposedly a dead one, and she seemed to have little patience for custom or courtesy. "Now all of you, listen," she said. "All of you, even you,” she pointed at Nissikul, “all of you are mortal. Without intervention, you will all die someday.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I was once like you. All of my people were once like you. We lived for nearly a hundred years, and then we died. Much like you and your people, we feared death and sought for ways to cheat it. For many centuries we searched for a solution to the disease of mortality. And then, one day...” She smiled again, both with her eyes and her mouth full of fangs. “One day we found it. We found the solution.”

  Nissikul cut in, apparently unable to contain herself. “But Great Mother, surely this isn’t true! You’ve always been here, always protected the Erinye! How could you ever have been… like us?”

  Ravanur sighed. “You Erinye are a young people, far younger than you believe. I was already ancient when your people first looked upon this world, before it was frozen, when it was still a paradise for the lost and orphaned remnants of a thousand worlds. And long before that, long before Joanna’s people, your cousins, came down from the trees, I was just another woman, one among billions. We were great and mighty and still we feared the final oblivion. We sought to defeat it.”

  “And you did?” I prompted. “You beat death?”

  "Oh yes. We defeated death by the strength of our will and the sharpness of our minds."

  Ravanur grimaced. "It was our victory over death that started it all. We discovered a process, a way to take a person's mind out of their body. At first, it was viewed as a way to avoid the inevitable specter of deat
h. A dying person's mind would be stored, and then a new body would be made, a perfect new body, young and healthy and whole. We would then put the mind of the dying in the new body, and they would begin again, start anew, and get to enjoy the life they had left behind through new eyes. At first, it was nothing short of miraculous."

  Volistad cut in. “How could such power be anything less than wonderful?” He gestured to Nissikul. “If our parents could have known immortality, what more might they have taught us?” He pointed to Thukkar. “How great a warrior and servant of the people could he be if there was no threat of death?”

  Ravanur’s voice turned wry. “Like you, noble Volistad, we were so very blind to the danger. We couldn’t look up and see the path before us, even if that path had been laid out clearly for us to see.

  Nissikul’s face was drawn in horror. Though the rest of us were waiting to hear more, it was clear that she had begun to grasp something that we had not. She looked up at her god, tears gathering beneath her fathomless eyes, looking for the entire world like a child that had seen her father cry for the first time. For all of her strength and arcane power, Nissikul had been something of an innocent. And that blissful naivety had just been shattered. I watched the shards of her faith crumble and fall away in the face of whatever dark secret she had guessed at, and I winced. It was horrible, seeing your heroes fall. How much worse was it to see your gods do the same? Nissi’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. Even so, I could see the words that her lips shaped, over and over. “No. No. No.”