Storm of Arranon Allies and Enemies

by Robynn Sheahan

  Sean emptied his glass and coughed. “We had the Anbas. We should have just stopped Gaden. His death would have ended—”

  “At what cost?” Cale’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Gaden is well protected. He controls security. If threatened, he wouldn’t hesitate to involve the innocent. Families. Children. How many would die in the process? Dhoran’s followers, his Shifters and Socar Batahs, wait for Gaden’s call and outnumber the Anbas by hundreds. There was too great a risk.” Cale rubbed a hand over his face. “I may have lost this battle, but I will not lose the war.” He glanced first to Sean and then at Leathan. A menacing energy filled his voice. “Gaden won’t win.”

  Chapter 15

  MASSIVE SNOW-COVERED BOULDERS TOWERED over Erynn, creating a deep chasm. She dashed down through the ravine and to the forest’s edge, Nev in step with her. Dense woods with a thick undergrowth of ferns gave a false sense of concealment, of sanctuary. Bright sunshine filtered through needle leaves and heavy branches, creating a patchwork of light and dark on the forest floor. A chill breeze sighed through the trees, sweeping low hanging boughs across patches of melting snow and bare soil, churning up a spicy, musty scent. The woods were alive with sounds—chirping aleuns, chattering of small animals, and the always-present song of the wind.

  Erynn stopped well inside the tree line, catching her breath and searching the shadows beneath heavy, drooping limbs. The maejen would come. They always found her when she was in danger.

  “Why . . . did you . . . stop?” Nev pulled in deep breaths between words. “Those transports . . . will be coming this way . . . and soon.” He glanced back. “They’ll be using . . . scanners,” he wheezed. He frowned and stared down at his body. “You’d think I’d . . . be in better condition. Maybe I don’t have . . . complete control over . . .” he ran his hands down his sides to his hips and grimaced, “this.”

  A low rumble of vehicles echoed from the canyon of rock behind them.

  “We need to run.” Nev’s panting voice rushed out, his gaze darting around the dense woods.

  Erynn shook her head and turned to Nev. “Running isn’t always the best choice.” She resumed her scanning of the dark shadows around the trees.

  Nev’s tone took on an urgent edge. “What are you waiting for?”

  “They’ll come. I know they will. Soon.” Erynn spun at a subtle swish of moving limbs and smiled.

  Silver-white maejen appeared, hulking under sagging branches in a copse of trees. Long muzzles sniffed the air, nostrils twitching. They sneezed and shook as if ridding their thick glossy fur of water or dirt.

  Nev retreated, arms flailing. He scuttled backward, tripped over a rock, and landed in a heap. “Erynn. Get back!” he shouted in a booming roar.

  The maejen’s lips curled in a warning, exposing sharp white teeth. Chorused growls issued from deep in their throats. They tucked their shaggy tails, lowering their substantial bodies to the ground and crept forward on round paws, short nails digging into the soft soil.

  Erynn stepped between the five maejen and Nev, who scrambled to stand. She held her arms out, palms up to both sides. “It’s okay. Just calm down. Nev, the maejen won’t hurt us. And you guys . . .” She turned to face the crouching, snarling maejen. “He’s not what he appears to be.”

  The rumble of engines grew louder. Everyone’s attention, including the maejen’s, snapped toward the sound. Pointed ears cocked toward the danger.

  Erynn’s voice was a thin whisper. “We haven’t much time.” She hurried to Nev, helping him to his feet and not letting go until she knew he was steady. “We need to get to Tamaagra.” She turned to the maejen. Erynn hadn’t encountered a maejen as large as this one before. A picture formed in her mind of the wide, lush valley at the base of the mountain and the city’s skyline in the distance. “Can you help us?”

  The imposing silver maejen straightened, chuffed, and grinned, his head level with Erynn’s. Eyes narrowed, his piercing yellow stare shifted to Nev.

  Erynn followed his glare. “I know what—who he looks like, but he isn’t. Trust me.”

  Five pairs of golden eyes lowered. The maejen snorted and turned, slipping like flowing water under a low bough.

  Erynn grasped Nev’s jacket sleeve and tugged. “Hurry.”

  Nev’s voice still shook. “I take it this is another ability you have? Communicating with vicious animals?”

  Erynn bit at her lip, not out of nervousness, but to keep a grin from forming. “Yes. Sorry. Now come on.” They dashed under the bough, trying to keep pace with the pack.

  The number of maejen increased. They darted from under hanging limbs and around thick trunks, joining the headlong race. Lean silver-white bodies circled, yipping and howling.

  This scene reminded Erynn of a couple of months ago. The maejen had helped her escape an alien patrol searching for her in the hills and forests above Tamaagra.

  But Jaer had been with her then, her Anbas Warrior.

  In a sudden and overwhelming awareness, she sensed his presence, as if he were with her—now. In her thoughts, Jaer turned and smiled down at her. Fathomless brown eyes radiated intensity. Long dark hair fanned over one shoulder, framing his strong chiseled features. A haunting memory filled her mind—their first kiss, his lips brushing against hers, compelling but gentle. His warmth, confidence, and strength enveloped her.

  Erynn’s already gasping breaths shuddered. The greens and browns of the passing forest blurred under brimming tears that slid down her cheeks. She staggered under the weight of this potent memory, her heart aching.

  Nev glanced at her. He grasped her arm, steadying her. “Not now, Erynn.” He pulled a branch away from their faces so they could pass. “Find Dhoran. Fix the damage.” They ducked under and the limb whipped into place, needles prickling the back of her head. “That’s the only way . . . to help Jaer.”

  She nodded, sucking in a deep breath, concentrating on the big silver maejen in front of her. A long thin branch snapped under her boot. One end flew up, hitting her shin. Erynn stumbled, catching herself. She shook off the sharp sting and continued, limping a few steps.

  The alpha turned a hard right. He jumped over a downed tree and loped up a steep hill.

  Erynn and Nev scrambled over the thick log, toes digging for purchase in muddy snow.

  The big silver male skidded to a stop, and dove into an irregular opening in the side of a mound tucked in a narrow hollow.

  Erynn dropped onto her hands and knees and scrambled right behind the big male into the burrow. When she was in, Nev followed. His backpack caught, a strap snagged on an exposed root extruding from the tight opening. He twisted out of the pack, and jerked it inside behind him. They hugged the interior wall, sitting against packed soil strengthened by thick broken limbs. Years of flooding down this gully, and some digging on the maejen’s part had produced the den. Their backpacks provided padding against sharp stubs jutting from the enclosed barrier. Erynn knew from the outside terrain this wasn’t the same den she’d spent the night in, hiding from Shifters just weeks ago. This one was larger. Tiny cries and soft mewling came from under glowing yellow eyes in a deep corner.

  Nev grimaced, nose wrinkling. “Oh. Ummm . . . wet maejen and—”

  “Yeah. I know.” Erynn’s eyes adjusted to the dark. Bones littered the center of the wide space, some still glistening and bloody. She took several deep breaths through her mouth, her heart rate slowing.

  Four maejen entered the den. Others yapped and barked outside, their voices fading as they continued a race through the dense woods. The alpha glared at Nev with narrowed eyes and padded forward to sit next to Erynn.

  In the distance, a faint roar of engines echoed through the forest, the sound diminishing.

  “We’ll stay here until the patrols are well ahead of us.” Erynn stroked the big male’s neck and shoulder. Patches of sticky pitch in his soft fur released the spicy scent of needle leaves. The pleasant aroma almost covered the stench from the remains of last night’s
hunt.

  The alpha curled against Erynn, obviously enjoying her attention. The other maejen made tight circles against the far right wall and lay down, sleepy eyes riveted on Nev.

  “They don’t like me.” Nev scooted closer to Erynn. His movements raised heads, but only for a moment.

  Erynn leaned toward Nev and whispered, “If they didn’t like you, you’d be dinner. Just don’t move too fast. There are newborns at the back of the den, probably the alpha’s.” Erynn sensed refuge in this snug, dark space. A strange desire to remain here safe and protected came over her. The warmth of the alpha radiated to her, and she continued to caress his smooth, thick fur. Time slipped by in a pleasant reprieve. Exhaustion dragged her into a dreamless sleep, spiriting away the scent of bloody bones and the rumble of low growls as maejen chased dream prey.

  Erynn jerked awake, once again assailed by the mingled aromas of a maejen den.

  Nev leaned in and whispered, “It’s okay. You needed a rest, even though it was only about twenty timnents.” He glanced at the sleeping maejen and smiled. “Thanks, by the way, for leaving me on my own with them.”

  She smiled at his attempted humor and rubbed her eyes, focus returning. “Don’t complain. You’re not a pile of fresh bones on the floor.” Her smile faded. “Do you know where Dhoran is going in Tamaagra?”

  He sighed. “He’ll want to be among people. The more, the better. He’ll be able to lose himself and . . . change, or get a new host body.” Nev glanced over at Erynn. “Either will take time. Still, it won’t be easy to find him.”

  Erynn frowned and nodded. “I get that. But do you recall any of Dhoran’s thoughts about Tamaagra? Does he have friends there that will help him?”

  Nev grimaced. “Yes. He does. He had a few names in his mind. No destinations, though. I don’t think Dhoran knew that much.”

  “What are some of the names?” The maejen tensed under her touch, his nose twitching at some scent Erynn couldn’t begin to perceive.

  Nev rubbed his temples. “There’s Cort . . . No, not Cort. Like Cort. Maybe Cord?” He waved his hand dismissively. “Ralik. Or Ralin. Or . . . Ranik?” His hand dropped onto his lap. “I know the names. At least I thought I did.” His breath shuddered in and then out. “Erynn, I’m forgetting. Things he knew, I can’t . . . I can’t remember.” Frustration edged his low grumble.

  The alpha jumped up, sliding from under Erynn’s hand, and trotted to the den’s entry. A pure white female poked her head in, growled low in her chest, and backed out again.

  “What’s wrong?” There was a tremble in Nev’s voice.

  “Nothing. Time to go.” Erynn crawled through the opening, following the silver male out into weak afternoon sunlight. Wind whipped the branches and drove thick black clouds across what had been a clear blue sky.

  Nev clambered outside, followed by the pack. He watched them, his expression wary.

  Erynn stared at the silver male. “Thank you. Be safe.” She scratched behind his ears.

  The alpha’s eyes half closed, and a grin lifted his lips, exposing long, sharp teeth.

  Thunder cracked in the distance, and a high keening wind wove through the treetops.

  The maejen returned to the den to sleep, waiting for dark, their time to hunt.

  Erynn and Nev hurried down the mountain, trotting when the path through dense brush and thick stands of trees cleared enough to allow a faster pace. Claps of thunder receded, and the aroma of rain was replaced by fresh forest scents. Deep gray clouds churned, masking the setting sun. They slogged on until dusk ushered in night, cloaking the dense forest in shrouded shapes and dark shadows.

  Unable to see a clear path, Erynn tripped over protrusions in the forest floor and bumped into low limbs masked by leaves. A vine or root hidden by ferns caught her toe. She fell into Nev, nearly knocking him down along with her. She landed hard, hands skidding in front of her, breath huffing out in a rush. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so she rolled onto her back to stare up between a break in the trees. Bright stars dotted the night sky in the spaces between roiling black clouds. Erynn collected her stormy emotions, storing them away for another time, another place, and focused on getting to Tamaagra.

  Nev reached to help her stand. His silhouette blocked out the twinkling points of light still visible. “We should stop for the night.”

  Erynn took his hand, the touch warm and ordinary—no trace of cool, smooth scales. She didn’t see them anymore, but they must still be there, a patchwork of reddish-gold over his fingers, up his neck, and onto his face. “No. I’m fine. We should keep moving.”

  He tugged, easily setting her on her feet. “If one or both of us gets hurt from blundering around in the dark, we won’t accomplish anything.” Nev stripped off his pack and ducked under the sagging boughs of a poshury, peering into the clear space around the immense trunk of the tall, bell-shaped tree. Meerats scampered, darting in all directions, abandoning their haven. Nev stepped back, gesturing her inside the sheltering limbs.

  Erynn wanted to continue, but Nev was right. They wouldn’t find Dhoran if she or Nev tumbled off a cliff. She shrugged out of her backpack, lifted a draping branch, and slipped into the hidden space, dragging the pack with her. The area underneath was fairly level with a generous bed of needle leaves. She stared up at Nev. “Gaden knows we’re gone. Do you think he’ll send more patrols to search for us?”

  Nev knelt and opened his pack. “Depends. If he thinks I’m still Dhoran, and there is no reason to suppose he doesn’t, no.” He pulled a tightly rolled survival blanket from a pouch, shook it open, and spread the thin silver fabric over the ground. “If Gaden believes we are together, he won’t come after us. He won’t interfere. This was what Dhoran wanted.”

  Erynn squatted by her pack and rummaged for a light. The meager glow reflected off limbs packed tight with needle leaves that wove a dense barrier, concealing their tiny encampment. “Gaden won’t be able to keep your escape—I mean Dhoran’s escape—or my absence quiet for long.” She stood up and brushed her hands together. “He won’t risk revealing himself, yet. So he’ll have to do something. Start some kind of search for us, even if it’s all show.”

  Nev glanced around at the warm light reflected by thick branches and then down at Erynn. “Again, depends. Gaden had his—Dhoran’s followers in key positions around both of us. He might be able to keep our disappearance quiet for a little longer.”

  Erynn reached for Nev’s pack, pulled out meal bars, and bottled water. She sighed and wrinkled her nose. “Hmmm. Back to these.” Wistful memories of surviving on meal bars while on her reckless adventures flooded her thoughts with something similar to fondness. She had endured those trials and suffered adversity. She’d come home—if not triumphant, alive. But always she’d come home to Jaer. Erynn handed Nev a bar and water. She plopped down and leaned against the tree, tearing open her package.

  Nev dropped next to her. “I’ve never had one of these.” He tore open the wrapper and sniffed at the contents. “I hear they are—”

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Erynn cautioned. “Just eat and try not to think about it too much.” She took a bite and chewed, washing the mouthful down with a large gulp of water.

  Nev followed her lead, taking a bite and quickly drinking. He grimaced and coughed. “I see what you mean.” He stared at the smooth green-brown square between his fingers. “Kinda like eating . . . like . . .” He shook his head. “I’ve got nothing to compare this with.” He popped the remainder in his mouth, crunched, and swallowed, taking another long drink.

  Erynn grinned and watched him. She waited until he had a mouthful of water and asked, “Have you told Aynn how you feel about her?”

  Nev coughed and spit water everywhere. “What?” He sputtered and choked. “Why would you ask . . .” He wiped a hand across his lips. His coughing subsided, and he sighed. “No. The time never seemed right. But if . . . when I see her again, I will.” He sighed and stared down at his hands. “Even th
ough Aynn could never accept me now. I’m too hideous.”

  “You’re wrong. You’re still Nev—inside. That is what you should focus on.” Erynn nodded decisively. “You need to tell her. She has feelings for you too.”

  He turned to face her, his eyes narrowed. “You know this how?”

  She chuckled. “It’s just what I do.” She sensed his reluctance to talk about his feelings for Aynn and changed the subject. “Where are you from, Nev? Where is your home, your family?”

  Nev gazed up at a heavy tangle of limbs and thick green needle leaves two meters above them. “My father was military. He’s gone now, but my mother is still alive. Dad was reassigned often, so we moved around—a lot. I never really knew that feeling of belonging in one place, until I joined Cale and started working with him.” Nev’s eyes closed.

  Erynn stared at him. The night outside the fortress of limbs was silent, dark, and cold. “We’ll get that belonging feeling back. It may not be on the base, but it’ll be somewhere.”

  He nodded slowly, eyes still closed. “Maybe. Stopping Dhoran . . . even if it does mean my death . . . knowing Arranon, my people, that all life on this world will survive is enough.”

  Erynn hitched in a breath, her gaze directed at the pale glow of the small lamp. “I understand.” She thought back, envisioning Zander—a ghostly presence surrounded by a shining blue veil that didn’t mask the sadness in his brown eyes. He had died in an attempt to destroy Dhoran.

  Then Damon, her dad, his warm smiles always left her feeling loved and wanted. He surrendered his life while defending Korin, her home world, against the alien invasion.