“And this ship—” Magnus went on, raising his eyes to the illuminated gray crystal above all their heads. He shook his head slowly and sighed with open admiration. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Quite simply, Rinzen is the most spectacular being we’ve ever seen.” Adi Batur’s soft voice to his left brought Magnus’s head back down as well as sharp, aghast looks from each of the Makhás.
One of the two tigerwomen at the back walked forward in an unhurried, limping gate and came to a stop directly in front of the Ubadi crystal master, narrowing her eyes and scrutinizing him for several long moments. “How do you know her name?” the older woman asked softly.
“She, uh—she told me,” Adi stammered with a contrite expression, apparently wondering if he had misspoken in front of the newcomers.
“Give me your hand,” the woman requested, extending her palm out to the befuddled human. When the Ubadi complied, she laid her other hand over his and watched his eyes carefully.
Adi stared at the Makhás master before sucking in a startled breath, pausing as if listening to something while a bright smile spread across his face. “Thank you,” he whispered, bowing his head in gracious respect as the woman withdrew her hands.
Shifting her gaze to Magnus, the elder studied him silently for several moments. You can hear us, too, can’t you?
Yes, I can, he replied, surprised that the contact opened so easily without the gold in his hand.
Good. You have potential. The woman turned to Kalden with a calculating look and nodded her head.
“Teach us!” Magnus blurted in a rush. “We need to learn how to do what you do!” To his right, Miros took an eager step forward, watching the Makhás elders like a hawk, but with obvious effort, he held himself back from speaking.
With a deep sigh, Kalden turned a cautious look from the older woman back to the Tarsian captain. “This will need to be discussed.”
“My brother Kirian is our leader,” the petite woman with sad eyes asserted quietly as she stepped up next to Kalden. “Whatever he decides, we’ll follow.”
Before Magnus could plunge on with the ocean of words that needed to come out, Dieter unobtrusively grabbed his arm, holding a hand up in the air. “I believe you have people who may need to come down out of … Rinzen,” he offered genially. “We have guest quarters waiting for all of you in our Great Hall complex. I imagine you could use some hot meals and a good sleep after your difficult experience.”
Kalden nodded his head gratefully toward the councilor. “Thank you. We have four hundred people who will be very happy to hear that.” Twisting his head around, he addressed the other Makhás. “Why don’t you start bringing them down.”
Three of the masters nodded and closed their eyes while the towering lion stepped away from his mate, his eyes trained on Magnus, and walked over to stand next to the small female at the front. Behind the group, one by one, the figures of tall Makhás materialized, silently filling the space between the senior masters and the base of the ship.
Magnus’s breath caught in his lungs as he watched the magnificent tigerpeople appear in a spreading mass—males and females of all ages as well as a good number of small children. It was a sight he knew he would always remember, along with the feeling of awe at what these adepts and their children could do so effortlessly. A glance at Miros and Lita told him he wasn’t alone in his admiration of these talented people who had so mysteriously blown into their lives, today of all days.
“We welcome you to Tarsus!” Dieter shouted out to the growing crowd of Sirians. Turning to find that several of his aides were already present behind him, the high councilor waved a hand in their direction and addressed the elder Makhás once more. “Kalden, these folks with the badges are members of my staff and will be happy to direct your people to quarters and dining halls up north of the landing field. I’d call in shuttles to take everyone up, but I believe they’re completely unnecessary, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Kalden agreed with an easy smile. “Pardon me while I tell my people what they need to do.” Lowering his head, he closed his eyes to send an internal message out to the crowd of adepts. Most of them began to nod and smile, breaking into excited conversation amongst themselves and with the humans who had come forward to greet them, but a good number of faces glanced toward the small group of senior masters with fretful looks, concerned about the obvious absence of their leader.
As Dieter turned to his aides to discuss arrangements for the Makhás, Magnus took a deep breath and looked at the ground, setting aside his restless desire for answers for the time being, and was about to say something to Miros when the big lionman held a hand out toward him, pinning him with a pointed look. “Hang on a moment, please.”
Holding Magnus with his eyes, he leaned down next to the small woman’s head and spoke urgently. “We need to find Kirian, Selina. I’ve never seen him like this.”
The catwoman brought her head up sharply, the alarm written clearly across her face. “Do you think—? He wouldn’t—” Her gray eyes filled again with tears as she choked off her words and stared fearfully up at the big man.
“I’m not sure,” he replied gravely, looking down at her. “I just know he’s broken right now without Minla.”
“He takes everything so hard, Arman,” she lamented anxiously.
“He needs something to latch onto to give him a reason to keep going and I think that man can help us,” the lionman declared with a nod toward Magnus. “He’s the one that linked with Kirian and brought us to Alcyone. Where the hell did that come from? There’s something going on here that we can’t see. Look in his eyes, Selina—those two desperately need each other right now.”
The woman turned her head to Magnus, blinking back tears as she considered the dark-haired human in front of her. “Maybe you’re right.”
Caught off-guard by the lionman’s suggestion, Magnus pulled his wits together quickly, sharing their deep concern for the welfare of the Makhás leader. “Yes, please—if you’re going to find him, take me with you! I want to help!”
The Makhás stepped forward and extended his hand. “Arman Sijía. This is Selina Vall.”
“Magnus Talrésian,” he replied, gripping the man’s hand firmly. “Dieter, are you alright with me going with these two?” he asked turning his head to the blond man who had stopped what he was doing to listen to the exchange. “I don’t want to make any problems.”
The councilor nodded slowly. “Yes. They know the man. We’ll trust in their judgment about what’s best for him. I’ll take care of Obi until you get back.”
“Thanks, Dieter.” With a grateful clap on the man’s shoulder, he turned back to the small female adept. “Can you locate your brother?”
Selina nodded and wiped her face. “Yes, he’s my twin. Give me a second.” She closed her eyes and focused her internal senses, looking up again at Arman and Magnus a few moments later. “I can feel where he is. Let’s go.”
When Magnus blinked in puzzlement, Arman quickly came to his rescue. “Relax and just stay still. We’ll do the transporting.”
Miros reached out and gripped Magnus’s shoulder before the party disappeared. “Step carefully, Mag. We have a lot riding on this.”
“I know,” he replied soberly. “I don’t want to alienate him either. He’s in a bad way right now. I’ll back off if I sense he can’t hear me.” Turning to the two Makhás, he nodded. “Alright, let ‘er rip.”
“Kalden, we’re going to get Kirian,” Arman announced loudly, looking over at the elder who was surrounded by a throng of curious humans. “And we’re taking Magnus with us. Would you please tell Tiza I’ll be back shortly?”
“Sure thing, bellmaker,” Kalden replied, turning a shrewd look toward the younger adept. “Walk with the Prime, all of you.”
In the blink of an eye, the Makhás masters shaped a transport matrix and whisked the Tarsian captain away from the landing fields of Krii.
The party materialized on a wi
de rocky ledge, high up on the side of what Magnus assumed was a peak in the Shardan range east of the capital city. Stunned at finding himself in such a remote place and momentarily unsettled by the whole instantaneous experience of transporting, the captain blinked rapidly and pulled in a deep lungful of crisp mountain air while the intermittent wind played with his hair. Beside him, Arman and Selina stood as still as statues, seemingly unfazed by the high elevation.
Alcyone was low in the sky, spilling the last of its bright rays over the Andaran landscape below, and out at the very edge of the rocky drop-off sat the leader of the Makhás, his silky white hair coursing down the back of his black vest. He didn’t move a muscle, but Magnus had the distinct impression that he was keenly aware of their presence behind him.
Selina glanced worriedly up at Arman before taking a few steps toward her brother. “Kiri, I know you’re in a world of pain right now. Will you talk to me?” When the man didn’t reply, she moved closer and went on. “I loved her, too, and I can’t stand it that she’s gone. She was wonderful, generous, funny, and I’m going to miss her terribly. But we’re still alive, Kiri. We made it through thanks to you and we all still need you.”
The small woman paused and watched her twin, waiting, hoping for a reply or some kind of sign that her words were reaching him. “Are you just going to crumble like Dad?” she threw out, her voice strained with frustration and bitterness. “He wouldn’t listen either, in spite of anything we said, like we didn’t matter. Please, Kiri, I can't lose you, too.” Covering her face with her hands, she fell to her knees, weeping softly.
Arman glanced at Magnus and with a nod of his head, signaled for him to walk with him as he stepped forward and stopped next to Selina, putting a gentle hand down on her head in sympathetic understanding. “Kirian, I brought Magnus Talrésian with us,” he stated with a firm tone. “You need to listen to what he has to say.” With another nod, he encouraged Magnus to move forward.
Walking toward the seated figure, Magnus realized with a wild rush that the ledge fell away dramatically and that there was nothing in front of him besides distant landscape and air. He stopped a couple paces behind Kirian and swallowed, fighting off a moment of vertigo before he was able to focus on the man’s form and restore his sense of balance.
“Kirian, I can’t say I know exactly how you feel,” he began quietly, “but I can tell you this. For the past five years, I’ve been struggling with the pain of losing people to violent deaths. I’m slowly learning how to handle it so I can stay sane and keep going in order to do what I set out to do—find a way to protect the people I love from the horror of the reptiles.”
He let out a slow breath and let himself look out across rolling land to take in the beautiful sunset. “Today, the last free worlds of Merope fell to the Empire. I failed to keep an old friend from being blown to bits and some people on Sahara I care deeply about are now facing torture or death. Watching our technology fall short time and time again while millions—no, billions of lives were condemned to Drahkian rule has nearly suffocated me with despair.”
As a sudden gust of wind came up over the ledge, he ran his hands through his hair, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. “But then, out of nowhere, I heard your voice call for help and for the first time in a long time, something I could do actually made a difference for someone. It was a major turning point for me.” He dropped his arms and opened his eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over him. “When I watched the amazing things you and your people can do and then saw Rinzen appear in the sky, it was like a door had opened that I thought was bolted shut. I haven’t felt this engaged, this hopeful for ages. But it’s not just me, Kirian. I saw the same excitement on the faces of some very talented people down there on the landing fields. We have a lot of sharp minds here in Alcyone willing to move forward and expand, people who are dedicated to keeping our worlds from being swallowed by the Empire. We have billions here to protect. I know we can learn.”
Arman’s soft steps came across the stone and halted just behind Magnus’s right shoulder. “The Makhás can make an impact here,” his deep voice intoned. “We can flourish again, build something new with these people, birth new ships. Rinzen doesn't have to die the last of her kind. But we’ll fall to ashes again if we don’t take a different path from our predecessors. If Minla were here and your child was born on Tarsus, you’d do anything to protect them—I know you, Kirian. There are children here who need us and she’d want us to watch over them.”
The snowy white head dropped into a slump. It was the first indication Magnus had seen that the man was affected at all by their words and a small spark of hope kindled in his chest. “Teach us, Kirian, please,” he hissed softly.
Several moments passed before the Makhás’ hoarse voice broke through the air. “Is it the price of our survival here?”
“No, of course not!” Magnus replied quickly, reminding himself that the man knew nothing about Tarsus or its people.
“Do you kill?”
The captain paused, instantly aware that his answer was vitally important to the Makhás leader. “At the moment, we use weapons because we don’t know how else to deal with the violent Drahks, but the Alcyone worlds have an ingrained history of peaceful trade and art.”
“Do you eat meat?”
Magnus blinked, thinking about how to shape his reply, when Kirian raised his head and pressed on. “It matters,” he spat. “Killing animals and ingesting violence perpetuates violence. We carry a thousand years of Makhás knowledge, but we'll take it to the grave unless you make a full commitment to non-violence.”
Walking over to the edge of the precipice, Magnus carefully sat down beside the tall tigerman. “Then we will.”
Kirian stared out across the peaceful landscape in front of them. “Can you speak for all?”
“They'll listen. What we’re doing isn’t working and everyone knows it. If those are your terms, we’ll comply.”
The Makhás remained silent, but Magnus could feel a difference in the man’s internal tenor. The harsh, protective edge was gone, but he sensed a profound, unwavering dedication to principles and he instinctively knew the same loyalty ran deeply in all Makhás. He mulled over Kirian’s decree, weighing it against his own pressing need, and chose his next words carefully. “I’m fully prepared to dedicate myself to the same high ethics you live by and I believe you’ll find the same metal in the Alcyoni people. But we still have a problem to solve with homicidal aggressors. Non-violence doesn’t mean sit on your ass and do nothing if someone’s harming you. There has to be a way to defend our worlds without killing. That’s the future I want, Kirian. I've had enough heartache, enough blood, killing, dying. It takes its toll on your psyche. I was nearly sucked into the endless cycle of insanity. My god, I was almost there.”
“What pulled you back?”
Magnus smiled and sighed softly. “My son. He told me not to get lost. He's not very old, but he's wiser than I am.” He shook his head, thinking how close he had come to veering down that other path, how perversely good it felt to hate the Drahks. “I was on the edge, angry, hurt, my mind had switched off and I was in some faraway place just to cope with the grief—where you are right now.” He waved a hand at the chasm stretching away hundreds of feet down below their boots. “This is exactly how I felt. I’d just lost two of my closest friends when their ship was destroyed right in front of me.”
“I saw you,” Kirian murmured.
Startled, Magnus looked over at the man beside him. The Makhás’ gray eyes had shifted downward as he focused on an internal recollection.
“I saw the whole thing, felt the pain in your chest,” he said quietly. “I called out to you, but you couldn’t hear me.” Picking up the intricate gold pendant around his neck, Kirian ran his thumb thoughtfully over its surface. “You did today.”
Magnus reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the small golden object, holding it on his palm for Kirian to see. “Someone I don’t know sent this
to me through a friend four days ago.”
Kirian glanced at the delicate geometric form, narrowing his eyes in speculation. “I just found this pendant three days ago in a box that wouldn’t open until I touched it.”
“Then maybe we were meant to connect for some reason, Kirian Vall. It’s no accident that you’re here.”
The Makhás lifted his gaze, looking Magnus in the eye for the first time. “I once knew a man like you, passionate about saving his people.” He studied the Tarsian captain for several moments before nodding slowly. “We'll teach you. Arman’s right—she’d want that. She’d want me to take care of the people here.”
Magnus nodded in reply, unable to quell the sudden sparkle that must have shone in his eyes.
Kirian let out a long, slow breath. “What you do now with machines, we can teach you to do psychically. You’ll be able to speak telepathically, transport objects, control your portals, mask surface readings, create sentient starships—all with geometry, sound, sexuality, and intention. It won't stop the Drahks. I don't know what will.”
“Then we’ll just have to keep looking for more answers—together.”
The shadows grew long as the great blue star sank below the far horizon. They sat for a while in silence while the chilly breeze buffeted their hair and clothing. Tipping his head back, Magnus looked up at the first stars coming out in the rich cobalt cloud overhead, picking out Maia and Merope with ease. His heart squeezed as he gazed at Merope and he realized with sadness that he would always feel this way whenever he saw her, wondering about the dear friends he had lost.
Descent of the Maw Page 20