by Kyle West
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Also by Kyle West
Map
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Untitled document
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
About the Author
Also by Kyle West
Glossary
BEACON
The Xenoworld Saga, Book 3
Kyle West
Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Kyle West
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
First e-book edition, March 2016
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Also by Kyle West
Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopian
The Wasteland Chronicles
Apocalypse
Origins
Evolution
Revelation
Darkness
Extinction
Xenofall
Post-Apocalyptic/Fantasy
The Xenworld Saga
Prophecy
Bastion
Beacon
CHAPTER ONE
NIGHT HAD FALLEN AND ISARU and I waited, crouched low, on the outside of a desert village. By now, we had traveled far enough north that everything was outside my knowledge. We had passed a dozen similar villages since leaving Colonia, each more impoverished than the last. It was as if the Covenant was rotting from the outside in.
I had protested the stealing at first, but hunger had a funny way of trumping morality. The river was right next to us the whole way, but even so, it was hard to find anything more substantial than lizards, and we didn’t have the time to fish, or even a rod or line. Large game was practically nonexistent, so I hadn’t had a chance to practice with the Silverwood bow gifted to me by the Avekai.
“I don't think anyone’s in there,” Isaru whispered.
The windows of the hovel ahead of us were dark. There were no sounds coming from within, and most importantly, there were no dogs.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s move.”
We crouched low, our cloaks dark against the ground. Even if we had done this several times before, there was still no getting used to it. It was hard not to think of the people we stole from, how they were poor and that we were stealing food off of their table. I only got myself to do it by reminding myself of the reason. We had to survive long enough to reach Hyperborea and find the Prophecy. It was the only way we would save my parents.
We approached the outside of the hovel without challenge, resting our backs against the wall made from ill-fitting stones. The window above was covered by a thick, roughly woven curtain that fluttered in the gentle breeze. I lifted it back, slowly raising my head to peer inside. It was quiet, and completely dark.
I nodded to Isaru. He then stood and poked his head inside the window.
“It smells…” he whispered.
He waited a moment, apparently sensing something. In the end, he decided it was safe because he stepped over the windowsill. Once he was inside, I followed.
The smell hit me, too, and it couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than death.
“Someone’s in here…” Isaru said.
As I reached for my blade, my eyes had adjusted to reveal a form, cocooned in a bed in the corner of the house. The top sheet rose and fell, slowly. The person was alive, then. Alive, but dying.
Isaru fiddled with a lantern resting on a nearby wooden table, but couldn’t get it to turn on. He next went to stand beside the bed. It was a moment before he spoke.
“An old man,” he said. Then to the person in the bed: “Is anyone caring for you?”
I could now hear the old man’s raspy breathing. It was as if he was trying to speak, but couldn’t.
“We can’t take anything from him,” I said.
Isaru hesitated. “We have to take something from someone.”
“A man like this can’t feed himself,” I said. “Better to go hungry.”
“Perhaps he was abandoned,” Isaru said.
My stomach growled, betraying me. We hadn’t had a full meal for three days. “We’ll find something else.”
“Where, Shanti?”
Stealing from the poor was bad enough, but this would be a new low.
But then again, I was so hungry.
Without a word or decision made aloud, we spent the next few minutes scouring the larders. There was more than I expected; a couple loaves of bread, sun-dried fish, a few pounds of raisins. It was more food than we had found in any house.
“We can’t take it all,” I said. “We can’t.”
We left about a third of it behind. That wasn’t so bad, and it wasn’t like the man was long for the world, anyway.
Who am I becoming? I thought.
You’re becoming a person who would use any reason to justify filling your stomach.
Isaru went back to the old man, who now watched us, clearly lucid. Only, he was powerless, even to call for help. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, or even apologize.
Isaru placed a hand on his forehead, causing the man to lean back.
“Go to sleep,” he said.
Obediently, the man closed his eyes.
Isaru then took a nearby pitcher of water, and filled a wooden cup next to the bed.
He turned back for the window, nodding toward it. “Let’s go.”
A minute later, we were outside, our packs filled and running north into the night.
CHAPTER TWO
ISARU AND I WOKE IN the camp we had struck several miles north of the village, hidden in a copse of low trees. Within half a minute, our packs were on and we were making our way back toward the dusty road following the Colorado.
I tried to ignore the aches in my knees and legs. In fact, I was hurting all over, a testament to th
e almost week of hard travel we had been doing ever since Colonia. Without sufficient food and rest, muscles couldn’t repair. It seemed as if every day that passed, my sword, bow, and pack grew all the heavier. My boots were already wearing out, and were dirty beyond all hope of cleaning.
And always, there was the river and a thin, little-used road that never seemed to end. It had to end at some point, whether with the Red Wild or the Ruins. Of course, a distance as far as Hyperborea seemed unimaginable. As we were going, we'd be starved long before we reached it.
We paused around midday to eat some of the raisins. I tried not to think of the old man, but it was hard. Even if we needed the food, doing the wrong thing had a way of feeling like a rock in your boot that you just couldn’t get out.
Isaru got a fire going, over which he set a pot of water. It was better to be safe than risk getting sick from drinking bad water. Sickness was a very real concern, and our bodies would already be weak from lack of rest and nutrition.
While we waited, I closed my eyes and allowed the heat of the sun to enter my skin. I cleared my mind until only Silence remained. I had taken to this habit during any downtime we had, as a way of keeping myself sharp. Often, I would simulate sword sequences in my mind. It was almost as good as actual practice, which I tried to limit to preserve my energy. The deep meditation had a way of keeping the edge off my hunger, even if it didn’t go away completely.
Once the water was ready, we filled our canteens and moved on. The road was almost always empty. We had passed people in our first few days, but ever since the fourth day, we hadn't passed a single person. I guessed no one ever had a reason to come this far north. Boats and barges were a more common sight, and we passed at least one a day.
Only one time did we hide, and that was when a group of Peacemakers, with their staves and white cloaks, appeared on the top of a hill. We found a rock to hide behind just in time, waiting until they had passed and were out of sight. Mostly, when we did pass someone, it was a lone traveler, usually a man, who didn’t look to be in the mood for talking. In fact, most of them didn’t even look at us, and always, they carried some form of weapon, usually a staff and bow.
The Barrens were a hostile place, and not just in its landscape. Outside the few scattered villages that clustered to the banks of the river, it was practically uninhabitable. And those who did inhabit weren’t the sort you wanted to run into.
The day ended with the sun lowering in the sky until it was hidden behind a low mesa. Isaru and I went off the road to find a place to set up camp, after filling the pot to cook some lizards to supplement our evening meal.
We found a nice spot in the lee of a bluff, where the overhanging cliff provided shelter from the wind and the road. Isaru found some dry scrub to start a fire, and once it was going, I set the pot over the flame.
While dinner warmed up, Isaru lay on his back and closed his eyes. His pale face was dirty while being red from the sun. Even his hair seemed a paler blonde from all the dirt that had gotten caught in it.
“You’re going to have to cut that hair,” I said. “If anyone knows what you look like, you’ll be recognized from a mile away.”
He opened a single eye. “I’m not ready to let go of it yet. No one around here even knows Haven exists.”
He said nothing more, and his eyes grew distant. It annoyed me, because he always got lost in his thoughts and it made him impossible to talk to.
And maybe I was also feeling frustrated because, after one week, we had only traveled a distance Jorla could have done in a day, if not less. We had to be getting near the Ruins, which would be our first major milestone. We were in a strange, transitional place that was not quite the Covenant and not quite full-on wilderness.
“I think yesterday was the last village,” Isaru said, coming out of his thoughts.
“You’re probably right. I think this is where the Barrens truly begin.”
“And then there’s nothing until the Ruins.”
“And nothing beyond, if what I’ve heard is true.”
There was a long silence, broken only by a gust of wind and the responding flicker of the flames.
“We might find some supplies in the Ruins,” Isaru said. “It might be dangerous, but where there’s people, there’s food.”
“Colonia does some trade with the gangs living in the Ruins,” I said. “Even after four hundred years, strange artifacts from Precursor times will get unearthed, and the Covenant is their prime buyer. I think you’re right. If they have the time to do that, then they have the time to eat.”
“That’s a strange relationship,” Isaru said. He paused, considering. “Perhaps it isn’t so strange. It isn’t as if the Covenant is the most honest government there is.”
“Is any, really?”
“I guess not. Not even Elekai kingdoms are immune to it. Then again, rulers can get away with anything just because of their station. Take my father, for example.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s done a lot of morally questionable things over the years. I mean…maybe a lot of it was necessary – at least, that’s what he would tell you – but sometimes, I wonder. For example, he recently seized a lot of lands from some nobles he was concerned about. He always thinks everyone is plotting against him, and for all I know, maybe he’s right. Still, he can go too far and in such cases, it takes the Elders to bring him back to Earth. That was the reason they were all there together when I first took you to Haven. His schemes have even gotten Haven close to war a few times.”
“War?” I asked. “I thought Elekai didn’t fight each other.”
“It’s not supposed to happen,” Isaru said. “One of the Sanctum’s main jobs is to keep the peace. In the end, though, sometimes human nature wins over. There was a short war with Mongar and some of the mountain states about ten years ago. Haven against all of them.”
“How did that turn out?”
“The Elders stepped in with all the other Elekai states – Sylva, Laston, even Northold. Other smaller places, too, and told my father to step down. He had no choice but to call back his forces, and those villages remain under Mongar’s jurisdiction to this day, even if they are the smaller kingdom.
“What was the war about?” I asked.
“Some disputed land on the Xenoplain,” Isaru said. “The Xenoplain provides more than half of the food for all the Red Wild. The Makai own about half of it, the mountain states about ten percent, and the Annajen the rest.”
“Sounds like a recipe for disaster,” I said.
“It is,” Isaru said. “It’s worse because borders aren’t always clear, to the point where they confuse even the people who have lived there for generations. It makes it easier for mistakes to be made that could provide justification for a greedy noble to make a move on another. The only reason there isn’t war is because every time something happens, like with what my father did, everyone else will gang up on the attacker.”
“What if the pretext for war is justified? What if it’s in self-defense?”
“Any territory that is seized without the blessing of the Sanctum is not legally recognized.” Isaru frowned. “The only exception is the Makai, and relations between them and the Sanctum are strained because of it.”
“What did they do?”
“They’re smarter about it,” Isaru said. “They don’t really take land directly, but it’s known how strong they are, so pretty much all the minor lords in that area pay them tribute. Or else, the Makai might conveniently forget to send aid whenever the Novans make a foray into the Wild…which they do often.”
“That’s a bit underhanded.”
“More than a bit. Politics is never nice. It basically comes down to strength and making people do what you want. Everything else is just fluff.”
I actually didn’t have a problem with that definition.
“The truth is,” Isaru continued, “without the Sanctum behind you, it’s hard to get anything done. It’s both a good and a bad thing
. The Makai are the only ones who seem to get away with it, but it’s only because they aren’t overt.”
Elekai politics was a whole lot more complicated than I had originally thought.
We ate our tasteless soup, along with some raisins. Once we were finished, we lay down and went to sleep.
CHAPTER THREE
WE AWOKE, AND ATE THE last of the raisins before starting north again. We found the road after stumbling over some rocks that probably wouldn't have caused me trouble were I at my full strength.
Even with the excess food, we were still rationing. My stomach felt as if it were twisting into knots. My hands remained cold despite the growing heat of the day. I tried to ignore my sense of dizziness and how long it would be until we had another full meal.
As the day progressed, the terrain grew rougher with the road winding up and down cliffs and bluffs running alongside the river. There was no sign of civilization – just parched sand, cracked boulders, and red mesas. Despite the road sticking close to the river, there wasn't a single barge through the course of the day, making it seem especially forlorn and lifeless.
It was hard to keep going under such conditions. There were so many times that I wanted to stop, but I forced myself to keep walking. There wasn't anything I could do besides that, and each time I thought about giving up, I thought of my parents, who were suffering far worse than me. I hoped she knew that I was out here, doing everything I could to save them. Valance had promised they would be safe, and I supposed I believed him, if they were the bargaining chip to ensure I got him the Prophecy. Still, keeping them safe wasn't the same as making sure they were comfortable and well-cared for.
Then there was Isaru’s own motivation; he had grown unusually quiet and pensive in the week after Jorla’s death. There was no doubt that something about him had changed, and whatever he was thinking about, it wasn’t for me to know. One thing I did know was that he would follow through on Jorla’s final admonition to avenge her, and to find the True Hyperborea.