Storm of Arranon Allies and Enemies

by Robynn Sheahan

  And Faylen, a powerful alien soldier that through adversity, kept love alive and safe in his heart—his ultimate sacrifice—dying in her arms. Faylen had hoped for a better life for his children, and for all the people imprisoned on Newell’s ship.

  Now there was Nev, also willing to yield his life to save Arranon and Korin.

  “We should get some sleep.” Nev’s words drifted through the fog of memories. “Erynn?”

  “What?” She focused on Nev.

  He watched her, his expression one of sympathy.

  Erynn looked away and wiped the sleeve of her jacket across her eyes. “Yeah. Sleep.” She pulled two caitni bags from the packs and unrolled them on top of the blanket. She kicked off her boots and wiggled into her bag. When they were both burrowed into their separate bags, Erynn turned off the lamp.

  Nev’s voice swirled in the dark. “You were willing to die for Arranon, for our people . . . for Jaer. And there will be more sacrifice ahead of us.”

  ***

  Pale light trickled like water dropping through the tight pattern of leaves. Soft footfalls padded on dense packed soil and crunched over frozen snow, intruding on Erynn’s fitful sleep. She opened her eyes. Under the branches, sinewy legs covered with silver-and-white fur trotted up to and around the outside of their shelter.

  From where Nev lay, he whispered, “We have company.”

  Erynn sat up and rolled the stiffness from her neck. “Maejen.” She pushed the bag down and tugged on her boots.

  Nev rose on one elbow. “What do they want? Is something wrong?”

  The trotting stopped, and a massive white head poked through the low boughs.

  Erynn nodded toward the maejen and he entered, glancing from her to Nev.

  The maejen’s gaze locked on Nev.

  “This isn’t the same one from yesterday.” Nev slowly peeled the caitni bag from his hips and legs, his eyes wide. “Tell him I’m not what—who I appear to be.”

  The maejen sat down and grinned, showing sharp white teeth.

  “He already knows. Word gets around. They’re just making sure we’re okay and we get moving.” Erynn rubbed burning eyes. They felt dry and full of grit— nothing a good cry wouldn’t ease. Once again, she was forced to push her grief aside, to keep racing forward no matter how hopeless the situation seemed. There was no turning back. Jaer lay unconscious, still and silent, kept alive by machines until . . . until they could figure out a way to save him. His life was on hold, perhaps ended if she and Nev didn’t find Dhoran. Things had to be made right—quickly. Arranon and all her people were in danger.

  Dhoran included.

  Erynn and Nev ate while stuffing caitni bags, blankets, and the lamp back into the packs.

  Nev’s breath plumed out in a dense fog before him. “It’s cold.” He grinned. “Feels good. Unlike Dhoran, I like this weather.”

  Erynn chuckled, her breath a frosty mist. She pushed through the drape of boughs and stared at a day lightened by weak sunshine, the sky a pallid blue.

  They left their camp and headed down the mountain. Wind sang in the treetops, freeing red curls from Erynn’s hood. She brushed them from her eyes and breathed deeply the crisp forest scents.

  Three white maejen kept pace into early afternoon, winding among the trees, following Erynn and Nev’s progress down the incline until the forest thinned and quieted, giving way to rolling hills choked with low dense brush. The maejen stopped, sniffed the air, whined, and dipped their heads, tails tucked. They would go no farther from their forest.

  Erynn nodded to them. “Thanks. Good hunting.”

  They turned and sped back up the incline, white forms dashing between short trees, disappearing into a dry gully.

  Erynn watched and listened until distant howls drifted down the mountain. Her heart felt smaller, less complete, with the maejen gone. She faced forward, tapped Nev’s shoulder, and pointed. “Keep a watch below those bushes, on the mounds of fresh dirt.” Erynn took a step forward. She slid in a loose patch of soil and small stones, throwing her arms out to keep from falling.

  Nev reached to catch her hand. “Why?” When she was steady, he released her.

  “Meervorines. Nasty creatures. Sharp teeth and claws, small yellow eyes.” She wrinkled her nose. “Smell bad. They hunt and attack in groups. We want to avoid them.” Erynn searched shadows under dense brush with broad, dark-green leaves that left an oily, astringent smudge on their clothes.

  Nev glanced around, his gaze darting from Erynn to the space under the tangled bushes. “I don’t see anything. Will we hear them first? Where exactly do I look?” Leaves rattled in the breeze. “You don’t communicate with them?”

  “I did—once. I demanded they leave us alone in Comhra, an ancient language I didn’t realize I knew. It worked then. Don’t know if it will again.” She smiled at the memory. Something powerful had passed between her and Jaer that day. She had saved them by commanding the meervorines not to attack, using a language she believed she’d made up as a child. The meervorines had responded to Erynn, fearful, slinking back into their underground burrows. Jaer had turned to her, the first time she’d ever seen him anxious. He spoke to her in Arranon’s ancient dialect of Comhra—her made up language.

  “The meervorines—that’s why the maejen won’t come any farther.” Nev nodded. “Smart.”

  Erynn shook her head and grinned but continued to scan the path ahead. “Does that make us foolish?”

  “Is there any other way around?” Nev spun when a rock tumbled down the hill behind them.

  “Maybe. But it would take us days out of our way.”

  He stared at her, pursed his lips, and nodded. “Then I guess this is our only choice, wise or not.”

  “Let’s hope not too unwise,” Erynn whispered.

  Wind rustled the low brush. Stone and dirt avalanches rushed ahead on steep descents. The day was absent the familiar, encouraging sounds of the forest—not a chirp, chatter, or lone aleun call, just an eerie unnatural silence broken by the moaning wind. They climbed endless hills, up one side and down the next in a repetitive cycle.

  The sun set, and the air chilled. Shadows lengthened across distant hills. Around them, recesses darkened, hiding crouched shapes that seemed to monitor their passage. Frost appeared in a fine layer, covering everything. Their rapid breaths plumed, leaving an evaporating trail behind them. Faint pinpoints of light dotted the night sky—a countless multitude of stars unable to compete with two nearly full moons and a racing web of clouds. In the distance, the faint rumble of transports passed far to their left.

  Erynn and Nev stopped, listened, not daring to speak or move. The growl of engines faded.

  Nev let out his pent up breath and took advantage of the brief interruption, handing Erynn a meal bar and water from his pack. They continued, eating while they walked, the food not worthy of more consideration. The plan was to get a real meal in Tamaagra—no matter how late the huair they arrived.

  From the crest of the final steep descent, the lights of Tamaagra glittered from the valley floor.

  Nev stood at the top, staring at the vast view of the city. “No meervorines—not that I’m not grateful, but it does seem odd. I mean after what you said.”

  “I was thinking the same thing. It’s almost like they weren’t around, like they left for some reason.”

  “Maybe they didn’t want to come up against you and your ancient language again.” He grinned and started down the last hill ahead of Erynn. The narrow path gave way to a wider trail and then to a rough dirt track that appeared seldom used. They followed this to a maintained road, winding between widely spaced houses with gardens and orchards. The road curved around to a more densely populated residential area. Streets intersected in a precise crisscross pattern that stretched before them.

  Erynn stopped beneath a tree, her breathing slowed. Streetlights glared down on stark limbs, casting thin, irregular shadows. Wind sighed through the sparse, dry foliage clinging tenaciously by fragile stem
s. They rattled in a feeble resistance against the coming winter. “Any idea which way?” she whispered, as if her words, spoken too loud, would crack the delicate balance and send remaining leaves cascading to the ground in a resounding crash.

  “To the city center,” Nev said, backing up to lean against the trunk. “Dhoran will want to find a safe place to regain his power and contact his followers.” He glanced at Erynn and smiled. “I’m hungry. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 16

  DHORAN’S JOURNEY DOWN STEEP, DENSLEY forested mountains and across brush-choked hills had taken a toll. Several times it was necessary to hide from patrols in transports. Dhoran had to consider they were searching for him, alerted to his escape from the base. This was a possibility, however slim. Nev could have convinced Cale, or even Erynn, he was no longer possessed. “Doesn’t matter now,” he whispered. The shrill tone of his soft voice added to his disgust of this malleable body. He wouldn’t wait for the repulsive lump of flesh to change. “No. I will find a more suitable host in Tamaagra.”

  Meervorines kept pace, slinking under dense bushes, watching over their master until he reached the fields above the city. They would go no closer to populated areas. He watched the last one turn and disappear, sliding into the dark shadows under a tangle of limbs and broad green leaves.

  He continued to push the body to its limits, resting only when the pains in his chest made stopping imperative. Dhoran gazed up at sheer wisps of clouds that blurred the burgeoning stars in a pale-purple twilight. He didn’t like seeing the sky, night or day. The openness made him feel vulnerable and uneasy. He would have welcomed a low, churning gray cover. But clouds only promised snow or freezing rain, bringing more cold into his current miserable existence.

  Dhoran skirted homes set back on lush farmlands, their windows glowing with warm yellow light. He traveled narrow roads to wide residential streets, careful to stay in the shadows when a transport whirred past. His trek took him through a run-down neighborhood where mahdras, their fur standing straight up on thick necks, ran loose to bark and nip at his heels.

  A winding road led down to the outer edges of the city, directing him always to the right. He passed businesses, doors shut and locked tight for the night. Dhoran stayed out of sight in alleys and side streets whenever possible. He followed the sound of loud music, the bass thrumming in the air.

  Bruised and aching, he hobbled into a small, dark parking area behind the source of the head-pounding cacophony. A single light shone with a dim, sickly-yellow glow at the far end above a black metal door. Trash compacting units lined both sides against two-story walls of smooth, reddish-brown stone. Mingled scents of cooking in apartments above the lower-level shops turned his stomach. He preferred his meat raw and rotting.

  Dhoran tried the back exit of the unknown establishment, jerking at the handle. The door swung open, slamming against the wall with a loud bang. He peered into muddy amber lighting beyond a dark narrow hall. Rowdy talk under blaring music drowned his crashing entrance. He stepped inside and let the heavy door close behind him with a quiet snick. The odor of stale beoir and rancid cooking oil permeated the enclosed space. Dark-brown walls slick with grease were hung with photos of cheerful people enjoying various activities. He made sure as he walked forward to stay in the center of the hall.

  He crept to the end and peeked into the murky haze of the crowded main area. A long counter ran the full length of the bar, stools filled with men and women drinking, laughing, and talking. Full tables occupied the rest of the ten-meter-wide space, leaving only the tiny dance floor next to where Dhoran stood. Twenty meters ahead, wide windows strung with tiny, twinkling white bulbs flanked a glass door. Lights from passing transports arced inside the room with an intermittent irregularity. Outside, the street reflected a multi-colored radiance, casting people on the sidewalk in odd tones of red, blue, yellow, and green.

  The front door opened, and a large group squeezed inside the already packed bar, shouting and waving to friends as they entered.

  Dhoran bolted, running a few steps toward the front, until he hit the mass of bodies taking up every centimeter of available space. He kept close to the stools facing the bar, weaving and dodging. He managed to creep forward, shoved, elbowed, jostled, pinched, and stared or glared at the whole time.

  Halfway down the long row of stools, a man in dark clothing swung around in his seat, catching Dhoran’s arm. “Well, hello, beautiful. What’s your hurry? Let me buy you a drink.” His words were slurred, and he leered through brown eyes swimming in and out of focus, the effects of too many beoirs.

  Dhoran evaluated the suitability of this body, his gaze darting up and down the young man’s formidable build. There were muscles, but they were hidden under soft, small bulges from an overindulgence of food and drink and a lack of discipline toward conditioning.

  This could be easily remedied.

  The man smiled and leaned forward unsteadily to whisper in Dhoran’s ear. “Like what you see, pretty lady?” His breath was a foul vapor. A strand of short dark hair fell over his forehead, curling just above a thick brow.

  Dhoran grinned, glanced around the teeming room, and caught his refection in the mirror behind the counter. Full, pouting lips smiled temptingly. Long blonde hair tangled and windswept framed a clear complexion smudged with dirt, blue eyes wide and inviting above a round, curvy body. “Do you have a place we could go? It’s so crowded and noisy here,” Dhoran cooed seductively.

  The man’s smile slipped and his eyes focused. “Sure do.” He slid off his barstool, taking Dhoran’s arm just above the elbow, and pushed through the crowd to the sidewalk outside. He turned right up a slight slope. “I have a place just up the street.” He glanced down at Dhoran. “It’s not much, but I like it. I’m Vynn, by the way. What’s your name?”

  “Kira.”

  Vynn’s smile returned. “Pretty name. Nice to meet you, Kira.”

  Dhoran grinned. “It’s very nice to meet you, Vynn.”

  Chapter 17

  ERYNN DIDN’T KNOW THE TIME—only that her empty, growling stomach insisted they find some place to eat, and soon. Winded and tired, she trotted to keep up with Nev’s long strides. “Will you know . . . when we’re close . . . to Dhoran?”

  Nev slowed. “I think so. Maybe.” His frowning expression barely showed in the weak moonlight. “Not sure.” Her question answered, he stepped up the pace, causing Erynn to jog again.

  They travelled the shoulder of a deserted road, passing an immense industrial unit surrounded by electrified fences. Signs warning “Admittance Forbidden” and “Danger-Electrocution Risk” were placed a meter apart the length of the fence. An open area in front of a sinister-looking two-story building of deep-gray stone and black glass was half-filled with dark, silent transports parked in precise rows. Remote clangs, whistles, and rhythmic banging from a long, low structure in the rear confirmed that the operation toiled through the night.

  Erynn scanned the rectangular plot of uneven land between the fence and the vehicles. Wind shrieked around transports and under eaves, rattling scraggly, stiff yellow grass growing in patches of dry, rocky soil. She shivered. The scene reminded her of a similar place in a scary vid she’d watched as a child. Her exhausted mind conjured images of mutated creatures springing forward from shadows to chase and devour hapless travelers. “Stop it. Stay focused,” she chided quietly, shaking her head at the ridiculous thoughts of genetically altered animals . . . or humans.

  At the end of the lot, a vehicle whirred to life. The piercing beams from its headlights pinned Erynn and Nev.

  A tiny yelp escaped Erynn, and she froze.

  Nev grabbed her coat and jerked. He dashed her out of the light and into the gloom behind a stand of short trees.

  The vehicle backed away and entered the street, accelerating away from them.

  “What was that about?” Nev’s low rumble was tinged with annoyance. “You just stood there.”

  “I’m sorry,” Erynn whispered.

>   “What if we’d been seen? And the authorities were called?”

  “I said I’m sorry.”

  “That wasn’t like you. Where’s your head? You—”

  “I got it.” Erynn straightened, her tone rising. “I messed up. I’m tired and hungry and cold and . . .” She bit her lip, tears threatening. Her soft voice trembled. “And that’s no excuse.”

  Nev sighed and enfolded her in a tight hug as best he could around the backpack. He whispered into her hood, his breath warm, “No. I’m sorry, Erynn. I rely on you too much, to take control and lead. You’ve always come across as strong and capable. But you can’t be—not all the time.” He leaned back and smiled, his palms resting on her shoulders. “I’m tired and hungry, too. Come on. Let’s find a place to get a warm meal and a guest service for the night.” Nev let go of her and turned, leading the way.

  Erynn brushed the back of her glove across her icy cheeks, stuffed her hands in her pockets, and followed Nev down the road.

  The industrial district ended. Rows of bright lights gave an appearance of daylight around a large warehouse and shipping facility. Constant arrivals and departures had Erynn and Nev dashing between shadows until the traffic cleared.

  Time elapsed in a change of scenery. The flat, broad outskirts of the city shrank. Their route wound to a quiet, upscale residential area with glowing streetlamps and established trees.

  Erynn gazed longingly at amber light radiating from wide windows. Thoughts of home and family, of love and security, brought her mind reeling to the urgency of their task.

  Find Dhoran. Save Jaer. Stop Dhoran’s plan of destruction for Arranon.

  There was considerable risk. This was true for any belief important enough to fight—and possibly die—for. From her earliest memories, her awareness was of service and duty. Erynn knew no other way of life. She looked away from the inviting homes and pressed onward. The result, if they succeeded, would be well worth the hardship.

  Soon ranks of multifamily dwellings and small houses on tiny lots clogged both sides of the narrowing streets. Nev and Erynn’s passage stirred low barking or high-pitched yapping, depending on the size of the mahdra.