Ethon (The Other Worlds Series Book 2)

by M. L. Greye

  “So, what are you doing here?” Porter asked again with a sigh.

  She grimaced. “I came to fix what we did to Olinia and Legann.”

  “We?”

  Porter whirled. Olinia and the guy she’d been with on campus stood where Hillary had been earlier. Porter hurried up to his feet. “The director let you go?”

  “No,” she glared at him, “because she never kidnapped me in the first place. That was Tiara.”

  This Tiara was identical to Olinia, then. He blinked. “You have a twin?”

  “Yes, but he’s a boy.” Olinia averted her attention back to Hillary. “What did you do to Legann and me that would need fixing?”

  Hillary blushed. “I gave DS information about him.”

  “Information you discovered in the cafeteria, and you were too afraid to admit to us so you blamed it all on him.” Olinia bobbed her head in Porter’s direction before her eyes snapped back to Hillary. “You two are cousins?”

  Porter stared, wondering what suddenly gave Olinia that idea. Hillary nodded. “Yeah, sorry. I probably should’ve mentioned that, too.”

  “How long have we been gone?” Olinia’s friend spoke for the first time.

  “About twenty minutes.” Hillary shrugged.

  They were all together twenty minutes ago? Porter felt his confusion growing. What had his cousin been doing with them? And who was this guy with Olinia? Was he gifted too?

  “This is Will Patten, Porter. He’s my fiancé,” Olinia said, as if answering his thoughts.

  “Fiancé?” Hillary’s eyebrows rose. “Since when?”

  “Within your last twenty minutes.” Will smiled.

  “That developed quickly,” she muttered. “Did you get to Legann?”

  Olinia shook her head. “No, but I did talk to him.”

  How could she speak with a person who was somewhere inside a wall? Porter was beginning to feel uneasy as the details of the DS basement returned to mind. Olinia suddenly spun on him. “You saw?”

  Porter knew he hadn’t said that out loud. He felt himself gaping a little. “Yeah, who told you?”

  She rubbed her forehead with one hand. “You just did. I can hear your thoughts.”

  Her gifts were just stacking up. Next, she’d be telling him that she could play with lightning, too. Porter groaned. He needed to take a hot shower to wash away the newfound knowledge of his past day.

  “We need your help again, Hillary,” Olinia remarked, while still eyeing Porter. “Can you un-limit your cousin?”

  “Not if he’s still brainwashed,” she retorted.

  “He’s not,” Olinia assured.

  “Okay.” Hillary pushed herself up off the floor and stepped closer to him. “This isn’t going to feel that great.”

  Porter took a step backwards. “What are you going to do to me this time?”

  “I’m going to help you escape the warden,” she replied simply before gripping onto the back of his neck.

  A rush of images from her past twenty-four hours flowed through his inner eye, one after the other. The scenes that stood out were of Legann’s disappearance, Will and Olinia running down a white hallway, and humans contorting into animals – all seen through video feeds. What had his cousin been up to all day?

  He didn’t have time to pursue the question, though. A shooting pain stabbed into his brain, rendering him momentarily blind. Porter cried out as he staggered forward. Somehow he stayed on his feet. When his eyesight returned, everything was blurry. He managed to make out Olinia with her hand stretched out toward him. She must be the one keeping him standing. He wasn’t sure, though.

  Hillary pulled back her hand, and a warm liquid trickled down his neck from just below his hairline. He swiped it off with his hand and found it was red. He stared at his cousin. “What did you do? I can’t see!”

  “Relax, your eyesight will clear up in a few minutes,” she told him.

  “Why doesn’t he remember DS putting that thing in him?” Olinia asked.

  “Because he was given a sedative,” Hillary answered. “Kids are told it’s a mandatory flu shot when they start at DS, but it really puts them asleep for a few minutes while the Bead is implanted.”

  Olinia blinked. “That’s a Bead?”

  Hillary opened her palm, revealing a tiny silver orb, covered in a thin layer of Porter’s blood. It was no bigger than a ball bearing. Porter gawked. “That was in my head?”

  She nodded. “Sorry, I had to take yours out. I couldn’t disable yours like I did mine.”

  Porter was dizzy. He could feel more blood wetting the back of his neck, but was too overwhelmed to give it much attention. The guilt he’d felt toward hiding Legann’s story from DS had completely evaporated. All he felt toward DS now was disgust.

  A dishtowel floated in front of his face. “Use this for your neck,” Olinia said.

  He plucked it out of the air and turned to her. His sight was completely restored now, enabling him to see her features clearly again. “You didn’t want to join DS. You didn’t even care to see the inside of the plantation.” He frowned. “You have more than one kind of gift. You’re different than anyone else I’ve ever recruited. Why?”

  She bit at the inside of her bottom lip. “You’re right, I am different. I’ve never felt like I’m the only one like me – like I’m the only one gifted.”

  “Because you’ve always had your brother?”

  Olinia chuckled. “No, not at all. It’s because I’m a Wend, and I’ve always known about the Eves.”

  “Who’re the Eves?” He raised one eyebrow.

  20

  ------------------

  The room Legann was urged into wasn’t very large, but it was luxurious. Rich, dark wood panels lined the walls surrounding the wine-colored stuffed sofas and chairs. The floor was hardwood, but mostly covered by an elaborate, decorative rug. Legann was no interior designer, but he felt like there was way too much wood around him. An enormous fireplace and several candelabras lit the room. Yet, to Legann, the area still seemed a little dim. Electricity had ruined him.

  As Dagon’s gaze rose from his companion – an elderly gentleman dressed in fuschia – to Lillie, Legann was guided down into a solitary wood chair by the entrance to the room. It was as if to let him know that just because he was in Dagon’s presence, it did not mean that he was a participant of the room’s conversation. Legann rolled his eyes at the nearest Nagreth, who was now standing at attention beside him.

  Dagon turned to his brightly clad friend. “Leave us.”

  “Yes, sire,” he said, giving a bow before exiting.

  Lillie dropped into a curtsy at the edge of the sitting area. “Even-tide, Emperor Dagon.”

  He eyed her inquisitively, gesturing for her to take a seat across from him. When she was settled, he said, “I am surprised to see you in the Vrenyx after what your father did, Heiress Lilleia.”

  It was an odd title – one Legann had never heard before in reference to a princess. He guessed it was just a custom of the Velvitors.

  “His actions are precisely the purpose of my visit,” she replied.

  “I see.” Dagon leaned back, placing his arm across the corner of the sofa. “You disapprove of his behavior.”

  Lillie nodded once. “I do, as you have always suspected of me.”

  “Ever since Talik ordered the death of your brother as punishment for you drinking his elixir, I must admit you have given me an inkling of your resentment toward him,” Dagon remarked.

  Legann stared. Her father had killed the brother Lillie had mentioned to him? More shocking than that, though, was the fact that Lillie had partaken of Talik’s elixir of long life. Age would not take Lillie for many generations. Legann pulled a face, now wondering how old she actually was. Growing up a Saerd had kept him out of Velvitor current affairs.

  “My father has always been an arrogant man, but in the last two generations he has overstepped his bounds,” Lillie retorted. “I have no idea what he was thinking when
he took that idiot Relivaynt girl to wife.”

  “He has a weakness for beauty.”

  Lillie grunted. “Beauty is fleeting.”

  “Which is how so many of his spouses, including your mother, met their demise, heiress,” Dagon pointed out.

  This was part of a story Legann knew well. It was told around village fires on summer nights. Talik only ever married Saerdian women with exceptional faces. He would seduce them with his wealth and power, and then take them away in the darkest hours. The women would live happily for just as long as they continued to please him. When he tired of them, he would devour their flesh. Yet, despite the widespread tale of Talik’s atrocious deeds, he continued to trap new mates. Why any woman in her right mind would wed a man that was destined to eat her was beyond Legann’s understanding.

  “I am not the only Velvitor exasperated by Talik’s conduct,” Lillie went on. “I would venture to say that most inhabitants of Zeedyr would be glad to see their heiress become queen.”

  “Yet, by law of your breed, you cannot be the cause of your father’s death.” Dagon frowned. “You wish his death by my hand.”

  She grunted. “I don’t care if your scullery maid does it.”

  Dagon inclined his head slightly. “I am afraid, heiress, you must accept my apologies. At the moment, I am unable to offer you any sort of assistance. I am currently enthralled in my own internal feud.”

  “I think you may misunderstand my visit,” Lillie told him. “I haven’t come to ask for your help – I’ve come proposing my help to you.”

  “You have?” Dagon’s brow furrowed.

  “Yes.” Lillie nodded. “Within the next two days, my father will attack Evedon. His wish is to overthrow the High Royalty living there through the use of his gifted slaves. As much as I hate to admit it, he will succeed. His slaves are powerful – trained only in battle gifts.”

  Talik having gifted slaves was news to Legann. Either Olinia had failed to mention it, or Lillie had just fabricated it on the spot. Legann had a feeling that it was the truth. No wonder Olinia had seemed so desperate to stop Talik.

  Legann wasn’t the only one Lillie had surprised in the room. Dagon watched her silently, most likely mulling over her words in his head. Finally, he muttered, “Talik is indeed arrogant if he believes he can claim the Other Worlds from beneath me.”

  “I have a sufficient following that I would like to pledge to you, should you choose a course of action,” Lillie replied. “I personally care very little for the Eves. However, I understand your history with them. My one request is that my father die by the end of his own assault.”

  “That could be arranged.” Dagon’s eyes shifted to Legann, assessing him carefully. Legann guessed his uncle was plotting what to do with him.

  Lillie followed Dagon’s gaze and frowned. “May I ask who your guest is?”

  “Forgive my rudeness,” Dagon answered. “This is my nephew, Legann Reien, Lantz of Caprith.”

  Her head snapped back around to Dagon. “Are you associating with High Royalty now?” She hissed.

  “Of course not. I assure you Lord Legann will not be interfering with any plans we may make.”

  “How will you be certain?” Lillie glared at Legann.

  “Because he will not be joining us,” Dagon said simply, rising to his feet. Lillie stood as well, and he waved a hand toward the door. “Please, let us take this upstairs. I would like my Captain and Third involved.”

  As Dagon passed by Legann on his way out of the room, Lillie tripped on the edge of the rug. Legann reached out and caught her before she fell completely. He felt something round pressed into the palm of his right hand as Lillie straightened. His fingers closed over it just as Dagon turned to see what the commotion was.

  “How dare you trip me?” Lillie demanded – her face a bright red, embarrassed.

  Legann feigned surprise at her response. “I didn’t. Perhaps, heiress, you should watch your feet when you walk.”

  She stormed out of the room, muttering something that sounded a lot like cursing under her breath. When Legann was alone with his Nagreth again, he snuck a quick glance at Lillie’s parting gift in his hand. It was her Sinith. She’d offered him a way out of the Vrenyx. Before the item could draw any attention from the Nagreth, Legann slipped it into the front pocket of his jeans. He’d save it for the most opportune moment.

  : : : : :

  It was a grim morning – the sort that cast an eerie shadow over everything one beheld. A frigid breeze swept through the courtyard, but no man hugged his clothing tighter around himself. Sazx admired the assembled troops he stood before. Each soldier was carefully trained and severely dedicated to his craft. The former Kendrens had been an army that would send simple Saerds fleeing in terror. Kendrens had been well known to execute orders with precision and speed. Sazx had always esteemed the forces of the Kendren brothers. Now, they belonged to Tiara.

  The previous night, Sazx witnessed a young Saerd crowned queen of Tlaid and her breed. The inexperienced woman had held her head high as the burden of her new kingdom was placed upon it. Sazx had once again observed how similar Tiara was to Olinia, and yet so unlike her at the same time. Both contained inner flames of vigor and courage. However, their fires were ignited on different terms.

  From her childhood as a slave, Olinia had become tough, relying only on her own capacity for turns. She’d learned to fight for herself while growing up because if she didn’t no one else would. Tiara’s strength though came from a sense of justice given to her by her Equilan mother. Duty to those who had helped her in the past was what drove Tiara, whereas Olinia’s loyalties lay with a birthright she’d been robbed of. Yet, from their lowly youths, both women rose to greet the destinies thrust upon them.

  Somehow Sazx now found himself aligned with the two women who seemed to hold the future of the Other Worlds within their grasps. After Tiara’s coronation, Sazx had contemplated the dramatic shift his career had taken in recent months. Long gone were the days of his being a soldier simply for the pay. He now fought for High Royalty – a bloodline he’d always revered. He rallied behind the merciful young princess who had unknowingly stolen his heart with little effort. He would follow her to the grave if needed. Olinia was his weakness and his vitality. She was the reason why he’d offered to speak with Voiel’s men. Sazx needed to inspire them to follow in his own footsteps.

  Truthfully, the former Kendrens weren’t much different than the Nagreth. Just as Nagreth were marked with gray skin for their participation in the program, the Kendrens were tattooed with the symbol of the dying lion for theirs. Most men joined for the promised glory and generous compensation. Unlike the Nagreth, the Kendrens were transitioning from their previous monarchs to Tiara.

  Sazx had to admit that Tiara was a worthy leader to the troops she’d inherited. While in Voiel’s study the day before, she’d valued the future of her people more than her own popularity. As long as the men accepted Tiara’s wishes, the courtiers and lower wealth of Tlaid would agree. They always followed the men that protected them. It was a tradition they’d adhered to for generations and were not about to break decorum. This was why Sazx’s speech was key.

  After a full five minutes of protocol-demanded silence from the time that Sazx and his companions mounted the platform, General Voiel stepped forward. He had been part of a line of four figures, which included Sazx, Tiara, and Archrin. Tiara was attired in a gown the color of her kingdom’s uniforms and Archrin wore a tunic that matched. With Voiel in full uniform, complete with chainmail, Sazx was the only man in the courtyard not wearing purple. Since he was to play the part of a Nagreth, he decided to dress for it. His skin was gray, and he wore the customary black tunic and trousers, tucked into black boots. Seeing a Nagreth in person wouldn’t unnerve the troops he’d address. However, when they discovered who Sazx was, it could spark some questions.

  Voiel saluted the men in Kendren fashion – sliding one arm across his chest with his hand in a fist. “We h
ave a visitor in our midst,” he called out in Arthelian. “Former Captain of the Nagreth, Sazx Tharrne.” He waved a hand toward Sazx and rejoined the line on the platform.

  Sazx waited for Voiel to be still before moving ahead of the others to the foreground. After another moment of silence, he began, “I became a Nagreth with no family or political connections. What you see of me today, I became through my own efforts.”

  His words rang clearly throughout the courtyard – carried to the edge of the crowd on the wind. He’d spoken in Eveon, as was expected of a Nagreth. As part of Kendren training, the men were schooled in the language. However, Sazx was aware that most were not fluent. He decided to forgo protocol and switch to Arthelian. “My career as a Nagreth went mostly unnoticed by my superiors. It was not until the battle for Larlothnyt that I gained any recognition. Through my own stratagem after my commanding officer fell, my devatte raked down an entire vatte, giving us the advantage over the royal family. By my actions that day, I was appointed Third by Dagon.”

  He let that sink in before continuing. “I have watched countless numbers of my fellow Nagreth slain at the hands of those with Eveon blood. I have mourned their loss. Many were friends that a part of me will always miss.”

  Sazx stared out into the faces in front of him. Their lives reflected his own perhaps more than they knew. No matter which side one fought for in the Other Worlds, the life of a soldier was often the same. Releasing a quick sigh, Sazx turned pale. There was an audible gasp – the shock breaking past the trained calm of the men.

  Before one of them could speak, Sazx went on, “There is a story in Caprith of a princess who was orphaned at a very young age by her uncle. At the time she reached adulthood, she’d already been groomed for vengeance – meant to reclaim her throne. Yet, when given the opportunity to terminate her uncle’s right-hand man, she gave him a second chance instead. It was something her uncle would have never done. The merciful princess took pity on a misguided man and offered him the chance to shift sides.” He paused. “Your new queen is the cousin to that princess.”