The Legacy of Earth (Children of Earthrise Book 6)

by Daniel Arenson

  "We died because of you!" her father howled. "You left us to die in the cave while you escaped! You filthy pest!"

  Rowan aimed her pistol, hand shaking.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

  She fired a bullet into her father's head. His skull shattered, and he fell.

  Her mother shrieked, jaws opening to expose fangs. "You will burn in hell, whore!"

  Tears flowed down Rowan's cheeks.

  "You're not my mother," she whispered and fired again.

  The creature with her mother's DNA fell dead.

  Jade stood behind the corpse.

  Jade. Beloved sister. A woman Rowan loved with all her heart.

  She looked so real. It was so easy to believe Jade was back.

  But then Jade pounced toward her. And Rowan fired her gun. And her sister crashed down, dead.

  "I'm sorry," Rowan whispered, sobbing. "I'm so sorry."

  It felt like losing her family all over again.

  Beside her, Bay fired his rifle, slaying the others. He too had tears on his cheeks. He too had killed the ghosts of loved ones.

  He came to stand beside Rowan. They stood among the corpses. They turned toward Xerka.

  And for the briefest moment, it seemed that the Basilisk Queen was scared.

  Bay roared—wordless, raw, a cry of fury and hatred and pain. He ran toward Xerka, gun blasting.

  This time, his bullets did damage. Where the explosion had torn off scales, bullets could enter flesh. Every blast knocked Xerka back another meter. Bay kept firing, running toward her, roaring with his rage. Rowan joined him, screaming as she fired Lullaby. A bullet took out another chunk of Xerka's head.

  Xerka screamed, skull torn open.

  Fear filled her eyes.

  Bay reached her. He thrust the muzzle of his rifle into her wound.

  "Die now," he said.

  Xerka lashed her tail.

  It slammed into Bay.

  His gun fired, but the bullet missed, grazing Xerka's wound and flying into the distance.

  Before Bay could recover, Xerka wrapped her tail around him—and squeezed.

  "Fire and he's dead!" Xerka shouted at Rowan.

  Rowan froze a few meters away, gun raised.

  Xerka squeezed Bay tighter. Her tail wrapped another loop around him.

  Bay thrashed, his arms pinned to his sides, unable to fire his rifle. Xerka pulled him close, constricting him. Only his head was visible over her coiling, scaly body.

  Rowan hesitated, still aiming Lullaby.

  "Let him go!" Rowan shouted.

  Xerka sneered. Blood dripped from the ravaged half of her head.

  "Toss away your gun, ape!" the queen said. "Toss it into the lake. Or I'll crush every bone in his body."

  The queen tightened further.

  Bay couldn't even scream. His face turned red, then crimson. His eyes were bugging out.

  Rowan hurled her pistol toward the lake of fire.

  "Let him go, Xerka!" she said. "I dropped my gun. Let him go!"

  Xerka grinned—only half a grin, the other half of her mouth gone.

  "No. Watch him die. Then you will die too."

  She tightened some more. Rowan heard something snap—maybe one of Bay's ribs.

  "Row …" Bay managed to whisper. "Run … Fly …"

  Rowan stared in horror. She had no more weapon. No way to stop this.

  She ran.

  But Rowan did not run toward Xerka and Bay.

  She ran away. She ran toward the edge of the tower. She took off her helmet, took off her jetpack, and let them drop to her feet. Rowan took another step, and another until she poised, balanced over the edge. Far below the tower, the lava gurgled.

  "Let him go, Xerka, or I jump!" Rowan shouted.

  Xerka stared. She was still squeezing Bay in her grip. But the queen hesitated. She loosened slightly, and Bay took a ragged breath.

  "I'll do it, Xerka!" Rowan said. "I'll jump off the tower! Down into the lava!"

  Far below, the lake gurgled and sprayed sizzling droplets. The beasts of lava reared, molten jaws opening wide, ready for the meal.

  Xerka stared for a moment in silence. Then she laughed.

  "So jump!" Xerka said. "It would amuse me."

  "It would infuriate you!" Rowan said. "I know how you kill. You like to devour your victims. To digest them. You threatened to swallow me whole, to keep me alive in your belly. For days. Even for years. To torture me for your perverse pleasure. Well, you want to see your meal incinerated in lava?"

  Rowan inched closer to the ledge. Her toes were now in the air. She stretched out her arms, teetering on her heels.

  Xerka inhaled sharply. She slithered a meter closer, still clutching Bay. Hunger filled her eyes.

  "Yes, I can see your hunger," Rowan said, looking over her shoulder at Xerka. "You said you understand me. But I understand you too. What is Bay to you? Nothing. It's me you want to devour. It's me you've been hunting. I'm the one who fired the talaria cannon, banishing you from Earth. I'm the one whose parents you consumed. I'm the one you've always wanted. Let Bay go. Let him fly from here. And you'll have me. Take me instead."

  Bay managed to gulp down another breath.

  "Rowan, fly away!" he shouted. "Leave me. Go!"

  Rowan looked at him. Tears filled her eyes.

  "I love you, Bay," she whispered, voice shaky. "I love you so much. You are the light of my life. Fly away from here, Bay. Fly back to Earth. Be happy, Bay. I love you."

  Xerka uncoiled her body.

  Bay dropped to his knees, gasping for air, and clutching his cracked ribs. With a flick of her tail, Xerka knocked his rifle off the tower. His jetpack was broken, all its fuel gone.

  Rowan nudged her own jetpack toward him.

  "Take it, Bay." She approached him, knelt, and kissed him. "I love you."

  "Rowan, no—" he began, reaching out to grab her.

  But Xerka grabbed Rowan first.

  She pulled Rowan back, and Bay shouted.

  Rowan stood, chin raised, as Xerka's serpentine body wrapped around her. Loop after loop coiled around Rowan, creaking her bones. Her arm dislocated. A rib snapped. Only Rowan's head emerged over the vise of scales. Blackness was spreading across her vision. She could no longer see the tower, the mountain, the lake of fire. Not even Bay. All she could see was a hideous face, half of it gone, and jaws opening wide.

  "Finally," Xerka hissed, eyes blazing with internal fire. "Finally! You are mine!"

  Her lower jaw unhinged, opening wide enough to swallow Rowan whole.

  And through her tears, Rowan saw light.

  Soft. Silvery. Flowing over her.

  The light of the Empyrean Firmament.

  Sandalphon's voice echoed in her mind.

  Be righteous. Be selfless. Sacrifice of yourself for others.

  As the jaws lowered themselves toward Rowan, the light filled her, flowed through her body, beamed out from her hands.

  Xerka screamed.

  The queen uncoiled, hissing, slithering back. Burns spread across her body.

  Rowan stood on the roof. Her wounds were healed. Her hands were glowing. She raised them, and she saw tattoos on her fingers, just below the knuckles. On every finger—a star.

  No, not tattoos.

  Runes.

  A lock of Rowan's hair fell across her eyes. It was no longer brown. Her hair was now silvery white.

  "What is this?" Xerka shrieked.

  She made to lunge at Rowan.

  Rowan raised her fists. Her runes shone. From the stars on her fingers shone beams of light.

  The aether slammed into Xerka, burning through her scales.

  The queen fell back.

  Rowan took a step toward her. She raised her fists again. Bay limped toward Rowan, still breathing raggedly.

  "Your hair," he whispered. "It's white. You're a weaver. You're a weaver, Row. How can this be?"

  Xerka leaped toward them again.

  Rowan f
ired more beams. The light slammed into Xerka, burning her, knocking her back farther along the roof.

  "What are you?" Xerka screeched.

  Rowan fired again. Again. Every blast knocked Xerka back another meter.

  "I am Rowan Emery!" she said, firing more beams.

  Xerka slid back, holes in her body.

  "I am a soldier in the Human Defense Force!"

  More beams tore through Xerka.

  "I am a weaver!"

  Beams flowed from her hands, slamming into Xerka, knocking her onto the roof's edge. The basilisk queen teetered over the pit.

  "Please," Xerka whispered, eyes filled with fear. "I can bring your parents back, Rowan. I can bring them back for real. I can bring everyone back."

  Rowan stared, eyes narrowed.

  "And I am human."

  She fired another blast.

  The beams slammed into Xerka, tearing holes through her chest.

  The Basilisk Queen looked at Rowan.

  "I only wanted to go home," Xerka whispered. "To the world where I was born. To Earth."

  And the queen fell.

  She tumbled off the tower, screaming, flailing, begging. She crashed into the lake, and the lava engulfed her, and she was no more.

  Soldiers burst out from inside Axis Vypira, aiming guns. Tom ran at their lead.

  "We cleared out the tower!" Tom said. "Where is she? Where is Xerka?"

  Rowan barely noticed her surroundings. She fell to her knees and lowered her head, sobbing.

  "It's over," she whispered. "She's dead. It's over. Thank God. It's over."

  Bay knelt beside her and pulled her into an embrace. She held him tightly, tears falling onto his shoulder.

  "I love you, Rowan," Bay whispered. "I'm so proud of you. I love you. We're going home now, Rowan. We're going home."

  The soldiers fanned out around them. Tom knelt beside the embracing couple. He looked at them, and his face softened.

  "Bay." Tom placed his hand on the young man's shoulder. "You need to come with me. Now. It's your father."

  CHAPTER FORTY

  They carried him outside onto the mountain.

  They placed him down in the open air.

  They had bandaged him. Given him morphine. Given him blood. But Emet saw the looks on their faces. Saw the grief in their eyes. And he knew he was dying.

  His body was broken. It could not heal.

  They gathered around him, the people he loved. Bay knelt at his left side. Leona at his right. Both his children had tears in their eyes.

  The others were there too. Cindy, the woman he loved. Tom, the father of his grandchild. Rowan, a woman he loved as a daughter. His loved ones. His family.

  "Did we win?" Emet whispered.

  Leona nodded, tears on her cheeks. "We won, Dad. It's over. We won. We're taking you home."

  Emet clasped her hand.

  "Leona … I won't make it back to Earth. You must lead them on."

  A sob passed through Leona. "Dad, you'll lead us home. Like you did before. You'll live for many more years. We need you. I need you."

  Emet smiled. "Leona, I'm so grateful. That I saw you become a woman. That I lived to know you'll have a child. You're ready, Leona. Ready to lead humanity. To lead Earth. I hope that I served Earth well. And I know that I leave Earth in good hands."

  Bay spoke next. "Dad, I'm here. I'm here with you."

  Emet turned his head toward his son. "Bay. You're my boy. My son. My pride. I watched you grow up into a man I'm so proud of. You found your way. You found Rowan. And now you'll find joy. I'll always be proud of you, my son. I love you."

  "I love you too, Dad," Bay whispered, voice choked.

  Emet looked at the others. Tom. Cindy. Rowan. And he looked past them at other soldiers. Young boys and girls. Thousands of them across the mountain. Survivors. Victors. Humans.

  "Make it a good Earth," Emet said. "There is so much darkness in life. There is so much fear, suffering, despair. But there is beauty too. There is joy. There is love. These things are worth fighting for. It is good to fight for Earth. It is good to die for Earth. Build homes of love and warmth. Live lives of joy."

  Emet could see them now. Luminous faces among the soldiers.

  Duncan, David, and Luther—dear old friends. Ramses and Mairead, holding hands. Coral and Brooklyn, smiling softly. Jade, his daughter, finally at peace. Alexis, his wife, smiling from beyond. Calling him home.

  Emet walked toward them, green grass beneath his feet, blue skies above.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Leona stood on the mountaintop, the cold wind of Sskarsses billowing her hair. She lowered her head.

  He's gone. My beacon. My life. My lion. And I don't know how to go on without him.

  Soldiers covered the mountainsides. Thousands of human survivors. Thousands of Oridians. The basilisks knew they were beaten, and they had crawled back down into their holes, leaderless, afraid.

  Leona looked at her people. At the remnants of humanity. Bloodied, ragged survivors. Strong and proud.

  Once we were billions, Leona thought. There are barely any humans left in the galaxy. But from these ashes, a new fire will rise. Earth will rise.

  She raised her head and took a deep breath.

  You believed in me, Dad. And so I will lead them onward. For you and all those before you. I am Leona Ben-Ari, daughter of the Old Lion, descendant of the Golden Lioness. I am the Iron Lioness. And I promise you, my forebears. I will carry on the torch. It will burn bright. I will sound my roar.

  Rumblings sounded in the sky. Leona looked up.

  She inhaled sharply and reached for her gun.

  Copperheads.

  Hundreds of Copperheads were diving through the clouds.

  The basilisk infantry was perhaps retreating. But their fleet still wanted to fight. The scaly starfighters swooped toward the mountain.

  Leona stared in horror. The human fleet was gone—destroyed in orbit.

  Those Copperheads are going to kill us all.

  Other soldiers saw them. They began to run, to flee toward holes, others to fire guns at the sky. Leona knew it was hopeless. Those Copperheads would strafe the mountain and mow down every human soldier.

  The Copperheads dived closer, their cannons heating up, and Leona winced, preparing for the bombardment.

  Booms rocked the world.

  Fire blazed.

  The mountain shook.

  It took Leona a second to realize: The explosions were in the sky.

  The Copperheads were shattering.

  She stared, eyes wide, as beams of light fell between the clouds, slamming into the Copperheads, destroying the basilisk starfighters.

  "How can this be?" Leona whispered, gasping. "Our fleet is gone. Who's attacking them?"

  And then, from the clouds, they emerged.

  Hundreds of them.

  Geode-ships.

  Not the geode-ships Leona had accepted from the Menorians, whose rocky hulls she had painted with Earth colors. Those had fallen in the war.

  This was the Royal Menorian Fleet.

  Leona laughed. "You came, Aurora! You came to fight!"

  Her minicom flashed, and Aurora appeared on the monitor. The alien octopus turned pink—her way of smiling.

  "I am sorry I am late, my friend!" Aurora said, flashing with silver and blue patterns. "You did most of the work for us. We will clean up the leftovers."

  The soldiers below watched, cheering, as the Menorian fleet pounded the enemy. When the clouds parted, Leona saw explosions farther up. The geode-ships were attacking the Rattlers in orbit too, destroying the basilisk fleet.

  The battle lasted for long hours. Leona spent it on the mountain, sitting down, wrapped in a blanket. Bay and Rowan sat with her.

  "It's like watching fireworks," Rowan said softly. "Well, an extremely violent, horrifying version of fireworks, at least."

  Leona couldn't help it. After long days of sleepless war, she yawned and napped.

  A rum
bling engine woke her several hours later. One of the geodes was gliding toward the mountaintop. It came to hover a few meters away. A hatch opened, and a ramp extended. A Menorian wriggled down, her eight tentacles pulling her along. Leona smiled to see her old friend.

  "Aurora!"

  The Menorian flashed gold and yellow. Leona's minicom picked up the colors and translated the words.

  "Hello, Leona!"

  Leona knelt and embraced the mollusk. "Why are you here? Not that I'm complaining! But I thought Menoria wanted to stay out of the war."

  "We did," said Aurora. "At least until Xerka attacked our world. She was furious that I gave you some of my starships. She made a grave error. She underestimated us Menorians. Her assault was devastating. Many brave Menorians lost their lives. We are normally peaceful creatures, soft and kind. But when you anger us, we are fierce."

  "I'm sorry, Aurora." Leona lowered her head. "If I thought Xerka would attack you, I never would have—"

  "She would have attacked us sooner or later anyway," Aurora said. "Her ambitions extended beyond Earth. She would have craved more and more worlds, and we lay in her path. It is I who am sorry. Sorry that I did not join the fight earlier."

  Rowan hugged the Menorian too. "Hi, Aurora! I just love hugging you. You're so squishy! Oh, I could hug you all day long."

  With a purple tentacle, Aurora mussed Rowan's hair. "Your hair is white! Have you grown very old, Rowan?"

  Rowan laughed. "Nah. I'm a weaver now. That's why I have white hair. You know, we only met two years ago. Humans don't age much in just two years."

  "The flow of time is strange in space," Aurora said. "Always dilating as you speed up or slow down. And we Menorians can be very slow or very fast. But I'm glad to know you're still young, Rowan. I hope that we are friends for many years."

  A voice rose from the ship.

  "But I am very old! I earned my white hairs with long years of wisdom." A woman came walking down the ramp, leaning on a cane. "Sadly, wisdom often comes as the joints go."

  Leona gasped. Her eyes widened.

  "Einav Ben-Ari!" she whispered.

  Bay and Rowan stared in shock.

  "Is that … ?" Rowan whispered.

  "It can't be!" Bay said.

  "It is I, in the flesh!" said the old woman. "The Golden Lioness, they call me. You can call me Einav."