by Franc Ingram
Oleana knew what Lysander’s latticework of neurons should look like. She guided the whirling lines into the correct shape. At first it resisted, preferring the disorganized jumble it had been in before, but Oleana forced it into line, and equilibrium restored itself.
With the task completed, Oleana tried to return to herself. She missed the direct route and found herself looking at the back of her body through Leith’s eyes. He/she looked at her with concern and attraction. He turned away as soon as it flared up, but Oleana felt it, and the shock of it pushed her into the next body.
The weight of new armor on his/her skin made moving a challenge. It also made them feel stronger. Lorn reached for his mother, but his limbs felt like they were stuck in tar. His mind still buzzed with the massive amount of information that swirled through his synapsis. If worry wasn’t constricting his chest he would have been more excited. No matter how hard he tried not to worry about his mother, to put on the brave face worthy of a future king, Lorn couldn’t help the dread that seized him every time she put herself in danger. He couldn’t lose the only parent he knew.
Oleana’s heart broke for Lorn, and this dichotomy sent her hurtling toward Lysander. For the first time, she stared into her own eyes. She could see the bags under them. The premature wrinkles, the pinched, sour look etched on her face. Oleana recoiled from the truth of herself. Lysander held her firm.
Looking through his eyes, she gained understanding. He knew that every line told the story of a weighty decision made for the greater good of others. The bags were the result of hard days and short nights doing whatever she could to protect her boys. She had the face of a warrior, a leader, and Lysander respected her, admired her, longed to be like her. With things made clear, Oleana found herself drifting back down the pipeline to her own body.
She was on the ground. Oleana knew that for sure. She could feel the blades of wet grass rubbing against her arms and through the thin cotton of her trousers. How long she’d been there she didn’t know. She vaguely sensed the others around her, heard a groan off to her left, felt movement on her right.
“Is everyone still alive? Still in one piece?” She asked, looking around still a bit dazed and trying to get her bearings to move her body.
“What was that? I mean it was crazy, and amazing, and…goodness! What was that?”
Oleana sat up in a hurry. The cadence and energy behind the words were all Lorn, but the voice was Lysander’s. He was sitting cross-legged on the grass, staring off into the horizon, eyes unfocused. Lysander seemed to sense eyes on him and came back to himself. He cleared his throat.
“Ummm, I don’t understand what just happened,” Lysander said, perplexed.
“You sounded like the boy,” Leith said. He was stretched out on the ground, hands under his head, legs crossed at the ankles.
“That's not what I sound like. Is it? No. Well, maybe. Goodness.” Lorn clasped his hand over his mouth to stifle the stream of excited gibberish.
“Okay, so we’re obviously suffering some unexpected consequences, but nothing we can’t handle,” Oleana said, trying to calm everyone. “The important question is, did it work”
All eyes turned to Lysander.
“I’m not some trained dog who barks on command,” he insisted.
“It's a nice day, we could just lay around in the sun for a while. Or talk about what just happened, because for a second there I could read everybody’s mind, but the thoughts got all jumbled so I couldn’t tell what came from who…”
“Lorn,” Leith said, cutting the boy off with the same strict tone that Oleana usually used.
Oleana didn’t know whether to be offended that someone else stole her line, or grateful that Lorn was reeled in.
“Felt weird,” Leith said, “like someone else -”
“- someone else talking through you,” Lysander finished.
Leith nodded his head.
“One problem at a time, please,” Oleana said. She racked her brain for any clue as to what was going on with them, but none of the new information the Twelve gave her hinted at anything like it. Seeing as Lysander’s cure was more important, she pushed it aside to talk to the Twelve about later.
“Fine,” Lysander said.
He stood and Oleana’s heart skipped a beat, fearing the seizure that might be one its way. At the back of her mind was a shadow memory where she remembered the taste of copper on her tongue and the systematic tensing of all her muscles. Oleana pushed the haunting vision away, refusing to be scared by another’s nightmare.
Lysander took in a deep breath, puffing his chest out. Upon exhaling, he stretched his long arms toward the ground, his fingers dancing as if he were playing some invisible instrument. The grass around Oleana started to move. She pulled her legs up to her chest to be out of the way.
The blades of grass that were once smaller than her little finger, grew larger than her arm. Four blades twisted together, creating a thick braid, arching over Oleana and connecting with three other braids to form a beautiful canopy, with beautiful inverted lilac blooms opening up right above her head. Oleana looked around to see that Lorn and Leith had their own canopies.
“Wow. Your level of control is astounding,” Oleana said in a hushed voiced filled with awe, brushing the flowers with the tips of her fingers. Her skin felt hypersensitive. She could map out every bump and groove on the petal. She could see the purple and yellow trail of perfume each flower gave off.
“I see smells,” Leith said.
“It will pass,” Oleana assured him even though she had no idea if it would. “It will pass,” she repeated knowing Lorn was about to object. She didn’t just anticipate his objection because she knew him so well. The sense went beyond that. She could feel the words forming in his mind. “Lysander, how do you feel?” She asked knowing the answer.
“Ha! I feel fine. No, I feel amazing! I feel like I have been half-blind all my life and now I can see. This is incredible!” Lysander bent his knees and jumped up and down like a child at play. He thrust his hands into the air and a hundred flowers blossomed, spilling white flecks of pollen into the air as thick as snowfall.
“For you maybe, but it took me years to develop the kind of control you just happened to stumble upon,” Lorn said, swatting away pollen. His tone said it was mostly teasing, but Oleana could see the streak of green in his sound waves. Jealousy didn’t suit him. “I’m glad you feel so good, but can we please talk about that whole sharing minds thing we just did, or are still doing?” Lorn said. He turned around in the patch of grass Lysander had manipulated. “I heard everyone’s thoughts at once. Leith, you should be ashamed of yourself thinking like that, and Mom,” Lorn’s face went pale. His eyes welled up with tears. Leith sat up and peered at Oleana, shock etched into every crease of his face. Even Lysander looked over at her with a mixture of awe and pity.
Oleana knew what they had gleaned from her mind. It was a secret she was hoping never to have to confront. Now the most important people in the world to her knew. In some ways it was a relief. She never liked hiding things from Lorn, but she also didn’t want Leith burdened with the knowledge.
“Mom, why?” Lorn asked. He rushed to her side taking her hands in his. “Why would you do that and not tell me? How could you give up your last life without so much as a word?”
Oleana wanted to look at Leith, wanted to explain it to him, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Lorn.
“I couldn’t let him die. Let any of you die. Not again, not ever again. You’ve now been in my head; you might be able to understand. In Solon, less than a century ago I watched you die, the yetis having ripping your chest open. I’d never seen so much blood. I was so distracted and in shock Cornelius managed to sneak up on me and he ran me through without hesitation.” Oleana finally tore her eyes from Lorn and laid them on Lysander. He fidgeted under her gaze.
“That second time around I was determined to be more vigilant, stronger, faster. When I found you I was all about the mission, fi
nding the others, getting to Evermore. Then we ran into the stupid farmer’s revolt in Failsea.” Oleana punched the ground in frustration. “I tried to convince you it was none of our business but you insisted on playing hero. Gave me some sob story about how you grew up on a farm and understood the plight of the people. I took something sharp to the back of the head and woke up in a different body. I heard a rumor those farmers built statues to us.” Oleana inhaled sharply. Reliving her past mistakes was exhausting but it felt good to let it out, let go of her secrets.
“That third time around I met Nadir, and Tycho,” she smiled remembering her old friends the way they were before the years came between them. “I loved it in Caledon, becoming a ranger. Leaving felt like dying all over again. I found the other versions of Leith and Lysander, but my heart was still in Caledon. When we were pulled toward Gaeth we got on the fastest ship we could afford and headed south. The Fire Ultra Emmaray learned about our arrival. You have never felt fear until you watch a lava ball hurtling toward your unprotected boat.” Oleana rubbed her eyes, trying to banish the pain of the past. Her chest was on fire remembering the flames that once licked at her skin. Her voice cracked and she had to clear her throat before starting again. “I gave my last life to Leith because I had no other choice. I couldn’t watch any of you die again. Please understand.”
Lorn bit his lip. Moments passed as they stared into each other as if trapped in a trance. Oleana felt the others looking at her, judging her. And she in turn was desperate for their approval. She needed them to understand what they meant to her.
“I understand,” Lorn said breaking the tension. He let go of Oleana’s hands, straightening himself out. He wiped the tears from his eyes, replacing it with his usual smile. “I don’t like it but I understand. I just wish you would realize you don’t have to do these things on your own.”
“Lorn, I’m sorry.” Oleana hated having nothing but feeble words to offer her son. She had no grand gesture that would fix the space between them.
Oleana glanced over at Leith. The muscles of his jaw were working overtime as if he were chewing over the right words to say. For Oleana there was nothing he needed to say but she waited, giving him the space to deal with what all of them now knew.
Leith moved through the branches of his canopy to stand beside Lorn. He laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder and looked down at Oleana. “Hope I prove worthy of such sacrifice.”
Lysander joined them, laying his arm on Leith’s shoulder. “Together we’ll finish what you started.”
Oleana stood, completing the circle by putting her arm on Lysander’s and taking Lorn’s hand. The link between them surged to the forefront once again. This time it was controlled. Oleana didn’t feel lost in the others. She felt connected to them, strengthened by them.
“I could use a drink,” the four of them said in perfect unison.
Oleana snatched her hands back, rubbing them against her legs to rid them of the lingering tingling from the sudden disconnect. “That’s not how I sound,” she insisted.
“Yes it is,” the others replied.
“That’s just creepy.”
“Time to go back in,” Leith said, voicing the words Oleana thought.
Looking at the others, Oleana again lost track of herself and looked at the world through four pairs of eyes, took in air through eight lungs, balanced on eight feet. Then she took a shaky step forward and tripped over a rock. The pain was all Oleana’s from her stubbed toe to the sharp crack through her knees as she hit the ground.
“Mom, you alright?”
Oleana used Lorn’s offered arm to leverage herself up. “I’ll survive. It will pass,” she said with less confidence.
100101
Ivar found himself feeling like a scared underling in his own tent, as he regaled Cornelius with the tale of his encounter with Nadir and the guardian. Ivar noticed the change in Cornelius’ demeanor as soon as he mentioned the guardian. The Ice God went from half listening as he reclined in his chair, to staring at Ivar with an intensity that worried the King of Failsea.
“She tried to scare you into submission?” Cornelius asked with imperious arrogance.
Ivar nodded, afraid to say too much.
“Some things never change. Did she have any of the other Heirs with her?”
“No.”
“How did she react when you made it clear your intent was to go to war?”
“She showed no signs of worry,” Ivar said. He didn’t like being interrogated, but dared not mention it.
“Curse the Twelve, she must have found the fourth Heir. They will make a move for Evermore. We must implement a change. I need you to hold the border, and all of your troops, in the Wild Zone must barricade the roads leading to the city.”
“No, our priority must be the Alignment,” Ivar replied.
Cornelius stood and grabbed Ivar by the front of his shirt, “You shortsighted, inbred, fool. Do you not understand that if the Heirs get to Evermore and secure a base of power, it doesn't matter how many battles you win against Starson and Caledon, you will have lost the war! The Heirs will unite the other realms against you, and crush you. There will be nothing I can do for you then.”
“I-I didn’t mean to…” Ivar stammered. “Our deal was that you would help me get water for my people.”
Cornelius smiled. He let go of Ivar and stepped back. “Ivar, you help me capture the guardian, and not only will I help you capture the river, but I’ll make sure your people have an overabundance of new land to cultivate and explore. We capture the guardian and everything else will fall into place.”
Ivar swallowed hard. The guardian’s words echoed in the back of his mind. She said he couldn’t trust Cornelius. Ivar didn’t trust anyone. He could use Cornelius and that's all that mattered. Ivar would have his men capture the guardian and then Cornelius would owe him all of Caledon not just the river. After that, Ivar would part ways with Cornelius, permanently if need be.
“Capture the Guardian, aye, my men are up to the task.”
CHAPTER TWENTY: BORDER
Daycia dismounted, deciding it best to walk beside her horse for a while, reins in hand. Looking around and seeing a landscape unfamiliar to her felt disconcerting. She hadn’t been this far from Solon in over a century. She’d made a life in Arimas, built a legend. There was no need to leave. The world was falling apart, and all she could do was protect her corner of it. Solon was the only constant in her life. People lived and died, but her city grew with her.
“Are you all right?” Paley asked, pulling beside Daycia.
She looked up at her apprentice. “Fine. Just needed to stretch my legs. Been a long time since I’ve traveled so far on horseback. This body can only take so much abuse.” Daycia smiled. “I should be asking you that. I’m not the one with the bandaged ribs. You shouldn’t have come.”
Paley waved her off. “I’ve had worse.” She dismounted to walk beside her mentor. “You took the brunt of that avalanche. You could have stayed in Solon.”
“I’ve been part of the story of the Heirs of Eternity from the beginning. I could not stand on the sidelines now. Don’t worry about me. I’m up for this fight,” Daycia waved the younger woman’s concern away. She looked at her apprentice, amazed again at the girl’s resilience. Paley received her fair share of bruises from their encounter at the mountain, yet she hadn’t slowed a step. Daycia on the other hand, felt like she was testing the limits of her extraordinary body.
“You’re going to have to prove that sooner than you would have liked,” Paley said, pointing in front of the them off the road they were following.
Daycia followed her student, leaving her mount behind. Together they approached what caught Paley’s eye. There was an indentation in the ground where something heavy crushed the grass, and judging by the shriveled blades, it was cold. Daycia saw the bits of yeti fur, then spotted the footprints in the soggy ground.
“They must have bedded here for the night,” Paley said. She touched th
e print. “They can’t be more than an hour ahead of us.”
“Days of tracking them, and all we get is some abandoned campgrounds and footprints in the dirt,” Zyair complained, coming up behind Daycia.
Tall, dark, and brooding, Zyair hovered over Daycia’s shoulder, temporarily distracting her. He jumped down off his horse in a clatter of sword against armor, his stride strong and aggressive.
“Well it took until we got inside the border of Caledon, but we are close,” Paley said.
The corner of Zyair’s mouth turned up in the beginnings of a smile, “So what do we intend to do about it?”
It didn’t take much for Daycia to guess at what the ranger wanted to do, pick up the pace and descend on the yetis with all the fighting power they could muster up. Days of chasing shadows had Daycia wishing for a more direct approach herself. She’d been the one in the cave, seen the weapons the yetis were making. She knew how destructive a yeti army could be. Still, caution tugged her in a different direction.
“I don’t believe I’m the one saying this, but we would be better suited heading straight for Central City and Alwen-,”
“Oleana,” Paley corrected.
“Yes, Oleana,” Daycia said shaking her head. “She needs our support more than we need to hunt yetis.”
Zyair frowned. He pushed at the embers of the dead fire with his foot, then followed the path of the tracks. “From what I can see, they’re staying close to the road. They must have run into civilization along the way. You really suggesting we leave defenseless civilians to take care of them on their own?”
Daycia wanted to smack him for being so smug. Of course she wouldn’t let that happened. “If we see trouble on our way, then we will of course stop to help, but we will not be detouring to satisfy your insatiable need for fighting.”
“As you wish,” Zyair acquiesced, giving Daycia an exaggerated bow.