The Survivors | Book 16 | New Lies

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The Survivors | Book 16 | New Lies Page 20

by Hystad, Nathan


  Instead of just saving Regnig, we were now obligated to find Malir too. That complicated things, but my focus had to be on my friend first and foremost. Magnus was there to fight the Wibox, and I would handle the rest.

  “Where’s Jules?” Slate asked, looking around the room.

  “They went to Duliv, the Sovan home planet, but we don’t have time to wait around for information. We’re gathering our things and leaving. Everyone know what they’re doing?” I asked, and they all confirmed they did.

  I exited, ready to pack, when I saw the big shadow blocking the sun. It was Darem, the Keppe we’d rescued. The others were nearby: Othus, Neemi, Kallig the Toquil, and Eretan Six.

  “You need something?” I asked, blocking the low sun from my eyes as Darem walked to the side.

  We’d like to offer our assistance, Kallig said.

  “I appreciate it, but we have a strong team. I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” I told them.

  Othus squeaked, and I heard his words translate. “We can help you. We owe a debt, and you cannot deny us.”

  I glanced at Neemi, whose dark eyes reflected off her blue skin. She bared her teeth in a smile, and I relented. “Okay. Go see Sergeant Raron, and tell him you’re joining us. He’ll set you up.”

  They hurried to the station, Darem staying behind. “Thank you, Dean. You won’t be disappointed.” He jogged away, and Mary arrived, watching the ragtag group cheerfully approach the Institute grounds.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “I guess I’m stuck with some new protectors.” I laughed, and Mary slid her hand into mine.

  “Just worry about finishing our mission, Dean. After everything we’ve been through, I’d like us to discuss our future after this.”

  I walked with her, the heat of the morning already rising. “What do you mean by that?”

  “We talked about you stepping into your role as our leader, and you’ve been ignoring it. I think it’s time you made a choice. It’s either you delegate or you take control.”

  “I don’t need the title. I just want—”

  She stopped and tilted her head as she stared forward at the training troops. “You wanted to create a fleet training institute, and we gave the role to Magnus and our daughter. You chose to send out Alliance Explorations ships, we built Light, and you handed her to Slate. Every time I think you’re going to settle down with me on Haven, you’re off on an adventure. Recently Slate, now Regnig.”

  “How can I leave them to their fates? Would you rather I stay home and learn to whittle?” I tried to keep my voice down, but she’d struck a nerve.

  “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “Then what is it?”

  She lifted to her tiptoes and softly grabbed my face. Mary kissed me and pulled away. “Maybe I just miss having you around. We used to be a team.”

  “We’re still a team.”

  “Okay. I guess we see it differently.” Mary left me to my thoughts.

  Twenty-One

  “Are you certain this is going to work?” Dean was clearly apprehensive about her plan.

  “Maybe Dean’s right, Jules. Maybe we should head home or to the Institute, and tell the others what we’ve learned. It won’t be too inconvenient,” Karo said, siding with her boyfriend.

  “You can go home, but I need to see this third portal. It wants me to; I can sense it,” she told them.

  “But you’re not a Deity. The gifts are gone. How can you be drawn to anything?” Dean had good intentions, but his words hit an empty part of her soul. A void that couldn’t be filled again.

  “It’s important. Are you coming or not?” She stared at Dean and saw her own image reflecting in his helmet. She was frowning, and she tried to stop acting like a bully.

  The entrance to the portal was five minutes away, and they rested at a bluff in the rock, avoiding the wind, which had drastically picked up speed. It was obvious Dean was upset, and she forced a smile, softening her brow. “I’m sorry. I can’t explain what this was, but it’s clear we have to reach the round stone. I’ve been searching for the last two, and this one was laid out on a platform.”

  “Jules, someone stole it,” Karo reminded her. “It could be in an extremely dangerous place. The three of us aren’t enough to fend off an army.”

  “I think that this person took Regnig, as well as the Sovan book, for a reason. Regnig had access to the universe’s largest library, meaning he would be invaluable as a wealth of knowledge. If we use the portal, it leads us to Regnig.” Jules stood, dusting her pants off. She was compelled to leave, but her urgency wasn’t from some unseen force like earlier in the day.

  The sun remained high, and Jules glanced in the opposite direction when she heard a scuttling noise echoing from the mountain peaks. Rocks plummeted, raining over the edge of the bluff and onto their helmets. At first, they were nothing but small pebbles, but quickly grew to the size of baseballs.

  “We have to move. This might be an aval—” Dean was cut off when one of the violent six-legged creatures from the field jumped on him, knocking him over the edge. A moment later, she heard the impact and peered down to see Dean on the ground, ten feet below.

  “Dean!” Jules started to climb when she saw the expression of fear in his eyes. He was gawking past her, and he struggled to pull his rifle free. Dean aimed it, and she heard the blast shoot beside her as she spun to face another two of the creatures. Karo was firing at the influx of animals, but there were too many to fend off.

  The creatures darted over the peak in a hurry, sending more rocks rolling toward Jules and Karo. Jules hoped Dean had managed to get up, because his suit could only withstand so much.

  She remembered her present from Sarlun and opened her pack, grabbing the round device. It started to pulse, but Jules was attacked, the beast landing hard on her chest. She flew backwards, the sphere wobbling from her grip. It clinked on the rock and rolled away.

  “Karo! Where are you?” she called into her mic when she lost sight of the Theos.

  “I reached high ground. I’ve tossed a rope for Dean, but these things aren’t random. They mean business.” Karo’s voice sounded like he was speaking in a tin can.

  More of the lengthy pale creatures arrived, most of them pausing their hunt directly above her. Forked tongues flashed in and out of their elongated mouths. Jules might not have her powers, but she was smart enough to understand physics.

  With a glance below to make sure Dean had exited the vicinity, she fired her pistol at the cliff’s edge, where most of the creatures’ weight was centered. She missed them on purpose, giving them confidence, and more stacked into the pile directly on top of her.

  Jules took two last shots, cracking the supporting rock, and the entire group of assailants plunged over the edge, many trying to scramble onto her pathway. She shot at those, but most of them tumbled, rolling down the steep mountainside. A couple managed to stay upright, and they faced her, teeth snapping in anger. She fired at their mouths. Ten shots and they were dead.

  “Are we clear?” she asked, hearing more pulse blasts coming from around the bend.

  “Last couple. We could use a hand,” Dean told her through her earpiece.

  Jules ran, her boots skidding on the pebbled slope, and saw ten of the slender monsters slithering toward Karo. Dean was on elevated ground, methodically aiming and firing, as they’d been trained for years at the Academy.

  “Hit them in the face!” she yelled. Most of his blasts were scorching their scales but doing little else.

  Both Karo and Dean heeded her advice, and she ran at the attackers from behind, startling them. She killed two more, and a minute later, nothing in the vicinity moved, except their own heaving chests.

  The portal entrance was straight ahead, and she hurried to Dean’s side. His suit was dented, as was the back of his helmet, but he swore he was okay.

  “Karo? You good?” Jules had to ask twice before he broke his stare with the scaled corpses a few feet away.<
br />
  He finally made eye contact with her. “I’ll be fine. Let’s use the portal.”

  Everyone was in a hurry to escape Duliv, and Jules remembered she’d dropped her gadget. She went looking for it, cautiously stepping over the dead bodies.

  “Jules, what are you doing?” Dean’s voice was urgent in her helmet.

  “Trying to…” She glanced in the pack on her shoulder, only to find the round ball safely returned. “Strange.” The sphere must have hovered back and dropped into her bag. Dumbfounded, she sprinted into the portal opening, through the corridor, swatting cobwebs as she entered the final room.

  “You can have the honors,” Karo told her, and she found the proper symbol on the portal table. The double H glowed in bright green light, and she pictured Regnig, using him as motivation for whatever they encountered on the far end of this journey. She pressed the button, and the room filled with light.

  ____________

  And Newei’s regular portal. Where is that? Regnig asked Fronez. A large contingency of Wibox was present, and they rolled in a ten-wheeled cart across the desert floor, heading for a bright red tent in the open region.

  “A couple hundred kilometers from here. We think Ovalax chose to be away from it, but not too far, should a sacrifice be coming through it.” Fronez had been open with him for the last few days. Regnig still didn’t trust him, but it was refreshing to be thought of as a peer instead of a prisoner.

  Two hundred kilometers. If Dean was coming through that portal in two days, he’d struggle to find Regnig. But Dean was resourceful, and perhaps there would be time after all.

  Why so many Wibox? Regnig and Fronez were alone on the cart, taking the rolling vehicle rather than a hovering shuttle. Fronez seemed comfortable in the Wibox’s company, and he waved at some as they slowed near the tent.

  “While the Wibox are the most devoted members of the Sect, they’re also the easiest to bribe. Because no matter which way you spin the story, credits win their loyalty. Every time.” He said the last bit through clenched teeth, probably not wanting the Wibox to overhear him.

  “Greetings. I’d like to speak with King Uvid, if it pleases you.” Fronez parked the vehicle between two Runners. One of them was half-sunk into the sand, and it tilted at an odd angle toward the bright sky. “Stay here for a moment, Regnig.”

  As you command. Regnig watched as Fronez, still wearing a white jumpsuit, hopped off the transport and walked directly up to four armed Wibox outside the tent’s entrance. More tents were popping up across the sandy dunes, and Regnig heard some Wibox curses as they struggled with their technology on top of the piping hot ground. He’d been forced to live among the Wibox, and two of them stopped what they were doing to wander over and see the old Toquil.

  “You lost, old one?” a hefty man asked him. Sweat dripped down his smooth brow, and he breathed like a frog.

  I am where I am intended. Regnig took little pleasure in communicating with these people. They were the thieves that had stolen him two centuries past, and again six months ago.

  “Smart mouth.”

  Another Wibox slapped the first one on the back of the head. “He has a beak, not a mouth.”

  They turned, starting to fight, and Regnig took the chance to climb from the vehicle and head for the big red tent. His footing was uneasy in the deep sand, but he managed to get to the entrance and was blocked by a pair of guards.

  “If it isn’t Regnig,” Stoden said, and Regnig glanced up to see the pair that had broken into his Academy library. He’d hoped to never see them again after Mount Carve.

  Of course you’d be here. Nothing to fear from Ovalax for the pair of you, Regnig told him and Ader. The older man was beside the first, arms crossed as he contemplated Regnig’s comment.

  “Why’s that?” Ader asked.

  Because rumor has it, he prefers to eat people with brains. Regnig chuckled to himself, but the Wibox didn’t seem to appreciate his humor.

  “Listen, you—” Stoden went to grab him, but Regnig stepped away. “You’re almost as bad as that Alliance scum.”

  Regnig paused, craning his neck. Who are you referring to?

  “Parker. The king of the Alliance,” Stoden said.

  “He’s no king, just a pathetic figurehead or something. Pale worm of a man, if you ask me,” Ader said. “But he paid well.”

  Regnig watched the man pat his pocket, and saw the glint of metal from inside his vest. From the looks of things, Dean had given these men an Inlorian bar.

  “Regnig, what are you doing here? I told you to wait in the cart.” Fronez stood at the entrance of the tent, the flap folded back.

  Sorry, sir. These men drew my attention. Regnig walked past them toward Fronez.

  “It’s fine. You might as well come in out of the heat.” The Shimmali man held the door for him and waited while Regnig entered the cool building.

  Dozens of elaborate red carpets were stacked and lined up inside, and a throne sat in the far center. A formidable Wibox rested on the large metal chair, wearing a tarnished crown. A well-stitched black vest adorned his wide chest, and his frown cut deeply through his forehead. “Is this the Toquil?”

  Fronez leaned down and whispered, “Take it easy. I will not let you into their grubby clutches.” He smiled, clapping his hands together. “Yes, kind King Uvid, this is the one known as Regnig. It’s a pity he wasn’t Sager, the Toquil you’ve been searching for, but he’s been a great research assistant for me, so it’s not a complete loss.”

  “I care nothing for your research. We are here to seek an end to the Gretiol embarrassment, and now that we have the heir, we’re nearly prepared for the ceremony.” Uvid’s face contorted into a grin. It caused Regnig to shudder. “Bring him in!”

  The flaps opened again to Stoden and Ader carrying a young Gretiol between them. His head drooped forward, and dried blood clung to his nose. His cape was in tatters, and Regnig wondered what was planned.

  “This is Emperor Bastion the Seventh’s heir to the throne, Malir.” Uvid rose, standing even taller than Regnig would have guessed.

  Malir’s head lifted enough for Regnig to see the burning hatred in the young man’s eyes.

  “Two hundred years ago, a young heir was being transported to Newei, to act as the Gretiol sacrifice. Emperor Bastion the Second’s daughter Manria was scheduled to be delivered into Ovalax’s hands a week later, only someone interrupted and escaped with her. Should we find the rogue named Sager, we will give Ovalax the added bonus of a Toquil.” Uvid’s gaze lingered on Regnig for a second. “Now the Sect of Memories has been under pressure to continue the sacrifices, but fewer of our members are paying their dues.”

  “This is because Ovalax has lost his senses. He’s withdrawn communication. He is not keeping his end of the bargain,” Fronez told Uvid.

  Regnig couldn’t believe his ears. Two centuries ago, Bastion the Emperor had approved the kidnapping of his daughter to feed to Ovalax? Regnig could only pray these beasts didn’t figure out it was him that had foiled their plan, or he’d be dead within minutes.

  “Ovalax is reclusive, but only because of our failings. The Sect is disbanded.” Uvid punched a fist into his palm. “From now on, the Wibox decide who is sacrificed, and do not think that a paltry annual donation will be enough. No. We will start with two dozen from each former member.”

  Regnig glanced at Fronez and recognized the fear in the man’s eyes as he spoke. “Surely there can be another way.”

  Fronez had advised Regnig that, for his plan to work, someone must be fed to Ovalax. The mind-absorbing monster went into a daze when he ate a sacrifice and was out of contact for a solid hour. That was when Fronez planned on downloading the creature’s mind.

  “Your people, the Shimmali, are the worst of the lot. I will feed Sarlun and his daughter to our oracle first. Yes. Maybe you… a man with your intelligence would be a wonderful contribution to Ovalax, bless his mind,” Uvid said.

  “We had an arrangement,” Fronez t
old him.

  “So did the Sect, and you saw how that panned out.” Uvid walked over slowly and picked under his dirty fingernails with the point of a dagger.

  Malir was still between his escorts, and Regnig doubted he’d even be able to stand on his own. “They will come for me. The Alliance won’t desert us.”

  “When they learn the truth about the Gretiol and their allegiance to the Sect of Memories, perhaps this attempt at unity will be severed,” Uvid said.

  “They will never—” Uvid backhanded the boy, sending his head reeling to the side. He spat a string of blood, but his eyes burned strongly. “You are wrong,” Malir blurted.

  “Then they’d better hurry, because at sunup tomorrow morning, you will meet your destiny. Unless you’d prefer to go now?” Uvid asked.

  Malir dropped his chin to his chest. “No.”

  Regnig needed to help the Gretiol heir, and he almost laughed at the irony. Over two hundred years had passed since the Sect had attempted to sacrifice Manria, and here was another Emperor’s child in Regnig’s vicinity. The odds of this happening were preposterous. It told him that this was not a fluke at all.

  Your Grace, Regnig said to King Uvid, and the big man’s grin dropped as he shoved his blade into a leather scabbard.

  “Why are you talking to me?” Uvid asked. He loomed over Regnig like a monolith.

  He needed to create a distraction. A reason to cause unease among the Wibox camp. Your two henchmen are holding out on you. They were given an Inlorian bar to free this hostage. He pointed a wing at Malir. His words pressed toward Uvid, making the conversation private.

  Uvid glared at his two men, Ader and Stoden. Regnig had been roughhoused by them, and he could still picture the pair ransacking his library. All those precious books, the millennia of knowledge treated like trash at their vulgar hands.

  Uvid glanced at Regnig. “Them?”

  That’s correct. I saw it with my own eye. Regnig blinked as if to accentuate the comment.

 

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