Storm of Arranon Allies and Enemies

by Robynn Sheahan

  “I will discipline her regarding conduct to superiors when I am in charge.” Gaden’s sneer widened. “But that won’t be necessary. Dhoran will teach her all she needs to know. He will break the wildness out of her.”

  The end was in sight. Before long, all of Arranon would bow on bended knee to Dhoran—their rightful sovereign, redeemer, and defender.

  Gaden’s chuckle carried no humor. “My place will be at Dhoran’s side, ensuring his will is law.”

  Chapter 3

  ERYNN DROPPED ONTO HER HANDS and knees, scrambling in next to Jaer. She added her weight to Aven’s, pressing her palms over the backs of his hands and against the ebbing flow of blood from Jaer’s wound. “No, no, no,” Erynn begged in a strained, muffled rush of pleading. Her breath hitched as she fought to steady the frantic beating of her heart.

  Icy cold replaced the warmth Jaer usually radiated. His heartbeat slowed, skipped, stopped, and then resumed a quick erratic rhythm. He lay so still. There was barely a rise and fall from his powerful chest. No burning flame flared in his eyes. Black pupils eclipsed his deep-brown irises. His skin was a pale gray, turning blue.

  Aven and Erynn kept pressure on Jaer’s wound. She willed Jaer’s heart to beat and his lungs to draw breath, cursing her powerlessness to help him. “Jaer, you can’t die. I love you. I need you. Come back to me.” Her voice broke and wavered. A single tear escaped down her cheek. She bit back her sorrow, refusing to allow emotions to overtake her. Static popped and snapped, coiling from her chest, down her arms and around her fingers.

  Aven jerked his attention to Erynn, his eyes wide.

  She understood his surprise. He hadn’t yet experienced her electromagnetic energy.

  Jaer’s heartbeat steadied, strengthened, but only for a brief moment before it faltered, resuming a rapid, irregular pace.

  What good are my abilities if I can’t help Jaer?

  Faceless forms swarmed forward in the dim corridor. Anbas Warriors in their black tunics, quilted pants, and heavy boots, and security in their white jumpsuits morphed into a mottled gray mass.

  Shouts and frantic conversations blurred into one another. Bellowed orders broke through the din. “Move aside! Look out! Coming through!” The medical team rushed in, calling out procedures in raised voices—a haze of pale-blue jumpsuits inside the imperfect gray crowded around Erynn, pushing her aside.

  Aven slipped his hands free and pulled at Erynn’s wrists, his finger’s slick with Jaer’s blood. “Erynn, let them in. Let them help Jaer.” His voice shook with anger and grief.

  Erynn scooted back a short distance, her white boots smeared red, slick against the cold floor. Aven supported her against the stone wall. She watched the medical techs clustered around Jaer, working on him. A cold numbing sensation crept over her body, and her eyes dried. Anger replaced fear, growing into a white-hot rage, blurring the nightmarish scene playing out in front of her.

  Cale reached for Erynn and helped her stand, leaning her weight against his steady frame, his arms tight around her.

  When aliens invaded Korin and Arranon, they murdered Erynn’s much-loved adoptive dad, Commanding General Damon Yager. After the invasion ended with the alien enemy defeated, Erynn chose to remain on Arranon instead of returning to her home world of Korin. There was little there for her with her dad gone. Cale offered her a home—a sense of family, of belonging, and an acceptance she had never before experienced. She belonged on Arranon now, almost as if this magical world had declared Erynn to be her child.

  And Jaer was here.

  Aven pushed up and shuffled around the far side of the techs. His training as an Anbas Warrior overrode his grief. In charge now, Aven’s quiet, determined orders to the Anbas and security combined with those of the medical team in an odd litany of rapid commands. One phrase penetrated Erynn’s fragile shell of defense.

  We have no byan.

  Erynn stiffened. No byan, no surgeon to repair the damage done to Jaer. Byan Nev no longer existed. Dhoran’s evil spirit had possessed Nev. He became the byan and took over his duties. Discovered and captured by the Anbas, Dhoran remained heavily sedated, trapped in Nev’s body, locked away in a well-guarded cell.

  Cale tightened his hold on Erynn and whispered, “Maire can take care of Jaer. She will stabilize him until Byan Skye gets here.”

  Erynn and Cale possessed a unique bond, making it possible for them to understand each other’s thoughts. They shared this special link with only two others on the base, brothers Tiar and Sean. The reason for this connection between them was their mutual forbidden births. They had one parent each from the two worlds—Korin and Arranon. This secret kept among a privileged few, strengthened their bond. In Erynn’s case, her mother was from Korin, and Zander, her biological father, was from Arranon.

  Erynn continued to watch, powerless. She was willing to die for Jaer, for Arranon, for all their people. She nearly had. Now this. Her thoughts swirled, remembering the sacrifices of those no longer with her.

  Zander, the father I would never know, surrendered his life just days before I was born to keep Arranon safe.

  Damon, my dad, told me my mother died after my birth. Did giving me life end hers? And now he’s gone, murdered just weeks ago by an alien assassin. Visions warned of the invasion—visions I ignored.

  Then Faylen. He loved me. And because of me, even though he was an alien soldier, he took a stand for what was right. He died in my arms—not an enemy, a hero. Faylen’s blood covered my hands and clothes, just like Jaer’s now. When will it end?

  No . . . No, Jaer is only injured, not dying.

  She had to believe this. Her mind conjured a recurring vision—a baby boy with curly black hair and ice-blue eyes. Jaer held the squirming toddler in his strong arms, both of them laughing.

  Zander had shown her the vision, giving her courage and strength to carry on when the enormity of her endeavor became overwhelming by showing her this future.

  Is this vision a lie, a ruse to keep me going? To manipulate me to do what must be done?

  Anger creased her features, twisting her face in an unnatural grimace, her jaw muscles bunching. The four long, thin scars across her cheek tightened.

  A medical tech shouted orders, a distant background noise to the rushing pulse in Erynn’s ears. “We’re losing him. Get the portable respirator. Hook up the cardiac stabilizer. Get some blood in him. Beirig din! There’s no reason for him to be dying.”

  Another tech’s high voice joined the first. “I’ve lost the pulse. Blood pressure is barely palpable. Could the blade have nicked the heart? Is the blood loss internal?”

  “No,” the first tech snapped. He ran a small handheld device over Jaer’s chest and the area immediate to the wound for a second time. “There’s no evidence of cardiac tamponade or hemothorax. The damage isn’t that severe.”

  Erynn drew in a breath and let it shudder out between clenched teeth. Her head spun. She felt on the verge of flying apart, about to scatter through the corridor in a billion pieces.

  A technician slipped a mask over Jaer’s nose and mouth, forcing oxygen into his lungs. Another tech accessed a vein in Jaer’s arm, squeezing blood into him from a bag hanging above them. A thin black case covered Jaer’s bared chest. Tiny lights blinked over the irregular surface, glowing red, green, and yellow, reflecting eerily off dark stone walls.

  From Jaer’s head someone called, “I’ve got a pulse. Pressure’s up. He’s back!” A collective sigh ran through the medical techs and spread among those watching.

  They lifted Jaer to a gurney for transport to the Medical Unit. The lead tech tapped behind his ear. “Maire, we’re headed your way. The patient is stable but unconscious.” He paused a moment. “Copy. Trauma room.”

  Erynn reached out and took Jaer’s cool, dry hand as techs settled their equipment around him. She sensed his essence, that spark of his spirit deep inside his powerfully built body. Erynn stared into the strong chiseled face she had loved from the moment she first saw him
. His eyes remained closed but relaxed. A warm pink flushed his cheeks. He appeared to be sleeping. She smoothed his long dark hair. “Jaer? Can you hear me? Fight, Jaer. You’ll be all right. Just . . . fight.” Her voice was a croaking whisper.

  The lead medical tech stepped close to Erynn. “There appears to be no damage to the heart or lungs. The blade slid under his ribs, miraculously missing vital organs. We’ll know more when we get him to the Medical Unit.” He glanced to the stone floor. “I know it looks bad, but the Fayn’s blood loss is not that severe.” He frowned, took in a deep breath, and let it slip out through pursed lips. “Jaer should be awake.” He paused, shaking his head. “But he’s not. And I don’t know why.” He pried Erynn’s fingers from Jaer’s. “Let him go, Erynn. You can come see him later. Give us time to sort this out.”

  The gloomy tunnel emptied of everyone but Cale, Aven, and Erynn. Even cleared of the medical teams, their equipment, Anbas, and security, the tunnel felt claustrophobic. The space closed in on Erynn. She braced her stance, clenching her teeth. Grief swirled, an entity demanding entrance to her mind, giving her permission to thrash, shriek, and destroy.

  Erynn wanted to be with Jaer, at his side to comfort him when he woke. She urged her legs to take a step, then another.

  Just get through this moment, then the next, and the next.

  She glanced up, surprised to realize she was moving, trotting through the dim corridors, keeping pace with Aven and Cale. “You know for sure Dhoran is still in his cell?”

  “Roni and Tiar are there now,” Aven growled. He skidded around the corner, taking the next set of steps two at a time. “And Dhoran is waking up.”

  Erynn’s heart lurched against her ribs.

  “That’s not possible,” Cale declared. “The meds Dhoran’s being given would keep a katjaramuud unconscious.”

  “He’s waking up,” Aven snarled.

  Cale stopped. “Erynn, stay with Aven. I’m going to the Medical Unit. You can meet me there later.” He wheeled off to the right and down a steep stairway.

  Three Anbas Warriors joined Erynn and Aven at the next intersection.

  Aven slowed but didn’t stop. “I want a team guarding Cace and his mother.”

  One of the warriors hurried away.

  Aven continued, moving forward. “Tam is in the hangar bay. Let her know what’s happened. Take her to Erynn’s quarters.”

  A second rushed off at Aven’s command.

  By now, word of Jaer’s injury would be spreading through the base like a morath tobane, a massive snowstorm that cuts a wide swathe across a vast region.

  Aven stopped, gesturing toward Erynn as he spoke to the last young warrior. “Get Erynn to her quarters.” He spun on Erynn. “Stay there with Tam until I come for you. I’ll take you to Jaer.”

  Erynn’s stomach rolled and pitched. She shook her head. “No, Aven. I have to do something. I can’t just sit and wait. If someone in the Medical Unit is altering Dhoran’s medication—I need to be with Jaer.”

  Her mind reeled, trying to grasp the possibility that a medical tech might be helping Dhoran. He had controlled the Medical Unit after possessing Nev, and slipping into the role of the byan. Dhoran had resided on the base, so why wouldn’t his subjects gather here in close contact with their master?

  Are there followers among the med techs? Or flight crews or communications—or any sector of the base? There must be.

  Erynn’s thoughts raced through the overwhelming events of the last few weeks.

  Aven had returned from Deanaim with a set of plates etched with Comhra symbols—a script of Arranon’s ancient language—found in the fortress’s ruins. Erynn hoped to discover clues to the locations of the four portals that allowed Dhoran access from his underworld to the surface—and seal them—forever. Cace, barley a teenager and one of the few people on Arranon capable of translating Comhra, had found there was much more to the archaic tablets. Protected by the guardians of Deanaim, the plates held a secret—instruction on how to defeat Dhoran. This added information threatened Dhoran’s plans and his continued existence, endangering Cace’s life.

  A loyal follower in the Science Unit had reported this to Dhoran, alerting him to Cace’s uncanny ability to understand Comhra and the risk to his master. Shifters abducted Cace, taking the boy and the plates, planning to destroy both.

  Erynn shuddered. Shifters—Dhoran’s henchmen were tall, thin, and incredibly strong, with razor-sharp teeth and black oily skin. Their breath reeked from the raw putrid flesh they ate.

  Only days ago, Erynn searched for and discovered a hidden passage to Dhoran’s underworld on level ten deep inside the base. By using her unique connection to the heart of the living Arranon, Erynn managed, just barely, to rescue Cace and herself from the Shifters, but not the plates. Shifters burned the irreplaceable tablets, their secrets lost forever.

  Not good.

  “Erynn,” Aven barked, bringing her crashing back to the present. “Listen to me.” He leveled his gaze at her. “I understand you want to be with Jaer. But I need you out of the open and somewhere relatively safe until Cale and I can assess security. Stay in your quarters, but be prepared to evacuate—”

  “Evacuate? But Jaer . . . Aven, how serious do you believe our situation is?”

  Aven shook his head. “I don’t know. It may be nothing. Just promise me you won’t go anywhere until I come for you. Please?” Aven turned on the remaining warrior. “Stay with her. Don’t let Erynn leave her quarters with anyone but me.” He glanced at Erynn and then shifted his attention back to the warrior. “Am I clear?”

  The young man nodded and long brown hair fell over his shoulder. “Yes, Aven.” He took Erynn’s arm and tugged gently. “Erynn, come on. Everything will be all right.”

  Erynn jerked out of his grasp, her voice pleading, “Aven. You’ll come get me? Please. I want to be with Jaer.”

  Aven’s jaw muscles bunched. He looked so much like Jaer—the same dark smoldering eyes that betrayed powerful passions. “Yes. I want to evaluate Dhoran’s condition. When Cale contacts me that he has the Medical Unit secure, I’ll be back.”

  Emotions tumbled inside Erynn, battling for domination.

  I will not lose control.

  She released her held breath and icy crystals swirled through the corridor in a mini snowstorm.

  The warrior gazed around, quickly returning his attention to Erynn and then Aven.

  “Erynn,” Aven whispered. “Are you all right?”

  The wind faded.

  “Yes. I just need some time. I need to think—to sort this out and get answers.”

  Aven pulled Erynn into a crushing hug. “We’ll get answers. Jaer will be fine. He’s probably awake and giving the medical techs a hard time for worrying over him so much.”

  Erynn tried to smile. The best she accomplished was a trembling upper lip. “I should be with him.”

  “Soon, Erynn.” Aven rushed away before Erynn could protest further. His long deep-brown hair fanned behind him. In his black Anbas uniform, he quickly melded into the gloom and disappeared.

  Chapter 4

  ESCORTED BY THE REMAINING WARRIOR, Erynn walked cold, dim corridors. As each person passed, silent, staring, knowing, she refused to meet their gaze, to acknowledge her pain reflected in their eyes. That would make this all too real.

  I have a duty to carry out.

  Her dad’s strong, confident voice echoed through her mind. “Perform to the level you’ve been trained.” Her mind chanted this directive, a lesson learned through childhood.

  Erynn keyed in the access code to her quarters.

  “I’ll stay right outside your door.” The warrior turned, his back against the stone wall across from the access.

  Erynn stumbled to the washroom and cleaned Jaer’s blood off her hands and coat. She scrubbed until her skin glowed a bright pink, as if removing the stains would make this whole nightmare disappear. She dropped onto the edge of her bunk, envisioning a fall into the soft depth, su
rrounded by thick covers and the black nothingness of escape.

  It wasn’t to be.

  The door slid open and Tam tumbled in, kneeling in front of Erynn. Her gold-flecked brown eyes that seemed always to be smiling were dark, her expression solemn. “Jaer will be okay,” she crooned in a shaking whisper. “You’ll see. They’ll fix him. Good as new.” Tam sniffed and lowered her gaze, wiping at a tear. Short black hair slipped from behind one ear and feathered across the brown skin of her cheek.

  Erynn’s gaze slid away from Tam. She stared across the room, her thoughts roiled, colliding. “I’m sorry. I didn’t . . . what did you say?”

  Tam stood up, even now her movements graceful, like a dancer. She pulled the top cover back. “Never mind. Just sit. Rest. Sleep if you can.”

  Erynn glanced at Tam. “Sleep? Am I dreaming? Will I wake and find Jaer lying next to me, warm and safe?”

  “He will be. Soon.” Tam wrapped the top cover over Erynn’s shoulders and sat down next to her on the bed. “Remember what Jaer always said to you—“Trust me.” I’ve heard him say it so many times. This is no different. He would want you to trust him now.” She put her arm around Erynn. “Jaer loves you. He would never leave you.”

  Erynn relaxed into Tam, trying to stop the tears. She wiped her hand across her cheek. “What if dying isn’t Jaer’s choice? What if there’s more to this than just a random attack? You didn’t see him, lying there . . . the blood. The techs . . .” Erynn stiffened and stared into Tam’s golden-brown eyes. “What if one of them did something? Something to further harm Jaer?”