Tales Of Nevaeh: The Trilogy and Backstory of the Epic Sci-Fi Fantasy Series Tales Of Nevaeh: (The 4 Book Bundled Box Set)

by David Wind

  Show me what you do, Gran—Enaid.

  <><><>

  How can this be? Mikaal asked, even though he knew it was true.

  Areenna looked at Mikaal. How is it I can see you here, when it is only our minds that have entered?

  The floor shifted suddenly, turned, and dropped from beneath them. Instinctively, Areenna grasped Mikaal and strangely, they found themselves floating, their bodies molded to each other. Mikaal stared at her, watching the way her eyes flicked calmly left and right as she took in their situation.

  A moment later, they descended and, when they touched bottom, Areenna released Mikaal.

  Now?

  Do you not feel it? he asked.

  Areenna knelt and put both hands on the floor. Warm… as though it lives.

  The moment her thought entered his mind, he realized what they had to do. We must go further, Mikaal told her. We must find what this is.

  How?

  You know. Take us!

  Puzzled, she took several breaths, and then she closed her eyes, accepting that it was but a meaningless gesture without a body. She concentrated every sense, every power to channeling her abilities into a single thread and, grasping Mikaal’s thoughts, she combined them into a single thrust from her mind.

  Gentle she was not; rather, she drove her exploratory thought spear-like into the heart of the Staff. In the very instant of the meeting of thought and Staff, there was an explosion that blew upward, reversed, and sucked them back with a twisting vortex, sending their senses into a black void.

  In the next moment, they stood in a vast desert of sand beneath the mid-day sun. Wavering bands of blood-red light illuminated everything. Twenty feet away stood a vision of eight Dark Masters. Each wore a gray robe; elongated cowls showing only red-rimmed eyes, hiding all but one face.

  The Dark Master they had faced at the Mountain of the Two Peaks, Fasil Abdul-Mu'eid, stood at the forefront of the other seven, glaring at Areenna and Mikaal. He appeared the same as when they had first faced him. His eyes were burning orbs surrounded by a thin circle of red. Hairless, his skin was the color of a gray, stormy day. His features, barely recognizable as a man, were haunting: his nose, short, flat, and bent, hovered over a small round dash of a mouth framed by thin lips five shades darker than his gray skin. He was as tall as they were, but slightly bent. The robes he wore hid his body; elongated fingers and hands peeked out from the folds of his sleeves, his long pointed fingernails were black and his hands claw-like.

  He raised one hand; his fingers pointed directly at Areenna and Mikaal and, without hesitation, released a streak of power.

  Mikaal raised his hand, palm forward. When the power reached them, it flared upward as if striking an invisible wall. Behind him, the seven Masters raised their hands as well and together, the eight attacked.

  <><><>

  With the ethereal force of The Masters’ psychic powers striking them, a burst of insight crossed Areenna’s mind’s eye to tell her what would happen next. Knowing she could not permit the evil of The Masters to overpower them, Areenna did the only thing possible. She released her entire essence—her entire being—into Mikaal’s mind, doing so without hesitation or sadness, accepting only the joy in the knowledge that Mikaal would cast out the Dark Masters and live to lead the Nevaens against the oncoming multitudes of ghazi.

  In the instant of the melding of her powers and abilities with his, her last thoughts were of the love she had finally allowed him to know; of her need to protect him and to be certain he survived. Whether or not she endured mattered little. Deep within her, she understood that only Mikaal could cast The Masters’ essences from the Staff. Her female abilities alone would never be enough.

  As she pushed her life’s essence into him, a black curtain fell across her mind and she was… gone.

  <><><>

  Unaware of the depths of what Areenna had done, Mikaal took Areenna’s powers into himself. When the horrendous powers of The Masters struck, he did not repel those powers; rather, he seized them with one part of his mind, drawing the writhing dark and malicious forces into himself, changed them, turned them, and flung them at the eight Masters with such might The Masters disappeared in a flash of light.

  Then the world went black.

  CHAPTER 5

  STANDING NEXT TO Timon, Roth watched the five women. The ship moved at a steady pace, almost, but not quite, skimming the water’s surface, under the command of the women’s abilities.

  Twenty minutes earlier, when Neleh had stepped onto the bow next to Enaid, the ship had picked up its pace—so much so that both Timon and Roth had turned to see how this had happened.

  They saw the woman-child had joined Enaid and the others. “She is powerful,” Timon observed.

  “As powerful as Enaid. Almost as powerful as Areenna.”

  “Which is good, considering what comes at us.”

  Roth nodded. “From what Mikaal said, they come with a full contingent of ships, and possibly a hundred thousand ghazi. We will be badly outnumbered, and will need every man and woman of Nevaeh, and every Women of Power , no matter how strong or weak each is—everyone will be necessary for defense. They will attack from several points. We must find a way to know exactly where they will land.”

  Timon looked toward the bow. “At this speed, we will reach Fainhall in two days.”

  “Good!” The moment he uttered the word it seemed as if a giant hand reached out and grasped the ship, stopping it dead in the water. Behind them, the sound of bodies hitting the deck echoed loudly.

  Turning at the same time, they saw the five women sprawled on the deck. Between where they stood, and where the women were, Mikaal’s blue-coated kraal let out a howling wail, and Gaalrie spread her wings and released a paralyzing bone-jarring screech.

  Before the sounds died, Roth sped across the deck, Timon a half step behind. When they reached the women, they found Atir and Ilsraeth coming around, but Enaid, Neleh, and Sirod remained unconscious.

  He knelt by Enaid, lifted her head, and cradled it on his thighs. Instinctively, he knew whatever had happened, had to do with Mikaal. He stroked her cheek, and found her skin warm and responsive. He exhaled in relief.

  Timon went to Ilsraeth, who was already sitting. She grabbed his arm and pulled herself unsteadily to her feet. “The child,” she whispered and went to Neleh. Between them, Sirod groaned and sat up.

  “What happened?” Roth called out.

  Sirod took a breath. “I know only it has to do with Areenna and Mikaal.”

  He ignored everyone and everything and concentrated on Enaid, stroking her cheek and holding her. A few breaths later, her eyes flickered open. “Mikaal…”

  “Easy,” Roth soothed.

  Enaid shook her head and lifted to a sitting position. “They battle the Dark Ones.”

  No, it is over, came Neleh’s thought.

  Enaid looked at the girl who was now sitting up. Her face was white and drawn, her pale eyes dull. Taking a deep breath, she spoke aloud. “They fought The Masters, but…not in the flesh.”

  “How then…where?” Roth was bewildered.

  She shook her head. “Where I know not for sure, but no place of this world.”

  Roth started to speak; Enaid stopped him. “Later, husband, give us time to understand.”

  “How do you feel?” Roth fretted after nodding his acceptance.

  “Whatever it was, it is done for now.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  Arching a single eyebrow. “It is. And I am fine.”

  “Then we best get the ship moving again.”

  Enaid smiled softly. “Yes, My Lord.”

  <><><>

  Pain roared through his body. His mind was a swamp of warring emotions. The feelings were both strange and familiar. He struggled through the fogged morass within his head and realized he was lying on the ground.

  Areenna, did we stop them? There was no response. He searched for her presence but could not feel her. He del
ved within himself and sensed her there, but when he tried to speak with her, in their silent way, there was nothing.

  Terror trapped him, stark and frightening; it spread through his mind and into his heart. She was gone. He could feel her essence, her powers and abilities, but could not find the vitality that was the real Areenna. All he found was an emptiness in those special places she had occupied within him.

  “Mikaal,” came the Master Jalil’s voice from far away. “Mikaal.”

  Opening his eyes, he found nine sets of eyes staring down at him. He moistened his dry lips with a flick of his tongue and tried to stand, but The Speaker placed her hands on his shoulder. “Hold.”

  “Areenna… I cannot sense her.”

  “She lies next to you, an empty vessel,” Jalil whispered.

  He turned and saw her next to him. Her was skin so pale it was translucent. Her eyes were closed, her chest barely moved, yet she lived. He pushed his senses into her, searched her mind, but found nothing. Yet, within him, he sensed her presence.

  It was only then that he realized the magnitude of what she had done when they had moved their minds inside the Staff—the impact of her actions, of her selfless sacrifice to save him and Nevaeh, sent another horrible anguish ripping through his mind. Tears spilled from his eyes and fell on Areenna’s unmoving body.

  “She became one with me,” he whispered, “she gave up herself.”

  The Speaker bent close to him, her dark face blotting out the light. “What say you?”

  Quickly, without words, he replayed what had happened.

  “Impossible!” The Speaker half shouted. “No, this cannot happen! What have you let happen!” A moment later, The Speaker separated from the others, turned and snuck-like, arched backwards. “You are a fool, Man! You have destroyed any chance to stop them!” Her black skin glowed as her body enlarged. She raised both arms parallel to the ground her fingers pointed at Mikaal and released a stream of power at him that sent energy crackling everywhere.

  Mikaal stood silent when The Speaker’s attack struck. It stopped an inch from him and flared around him in a riotous blaze of colors. Time stopped. He stared at the shifting colors and, ignoring everyone, put his hand into the center of the eddying colors. The instant his skin touched the shimmering light, it swirled around him, moving with a speed that blurred everything near it. He looked at The Speaker. His eyes narrowed; the raging colors exploded back at The Speaker, lifting her from the ground, tossing her into the other seven, sending them sprawling in a tangled mass.

  While this was happening, the ancient Dark Master Jalil studied Areenna. Even as Mikaal reflected The Speaker’s power back at her, Jalil picked up the Staff and moved next to Mikaal.

  We have not much time, and there is much danger in what has happened. Take the Staff, Jalil commanded. Find a way to separate from Areenna, more than just her life depends on this. Find it…find the way, now!

  Mikaal ignored the fury of The Speaker’s screaming unintelligible thoughts, and grasped the Staff. A spark of power jumped from the ancient wood to his skin when he touched it. Acting on nothing more than instinct, he placed the Staff atop Areenna’s body, took her cold hands into his, and closed his eyes. He tried to separate her essence, her emotions, and spirit from his, but could not.

  He searched within himself to find a way. He stared at the Staff, knowing it was the key. How? She had sacrificed herself to protect him and Nevaeh. He could not lose her; he would not let her body die.

  Stop thinking! Act! Jalil commanded.

  Mikaal reached deep within himself, diving to the very core of where his power lay and called up everything within.

  His belly burned hot. His hands exploded with the blue light of Areenna’s power and he pushed it into her. Nothing happened. He bit down on his lower lip until blood flowed down his chin in twin rivulets. Then a strange calmness settled over him, the familiar sensation of Areenna’s mind caressing his own.

  He knew that whatever was left of Areenna was telling him to accept her sacrifice for him and for Nevaeh. He understood that she had increased his powers and turned him into something extraordinary. Yet, as he stared at her lifeless form, and took in the lines of her face, he knew he could not let this be. He would not live without her—to do so would drive him insane.

  He held her hands, squeezing them tightly within his. He sensed her in every fiber of his being, but could not hear her in his thoughts. He released her hands and picked up the Staff. When he did, another snapping shock bored into him. A heartbeat later, awareness cut through his anguish. He bent and kissed her, his lips sliding across her taut cool ones.

  Knowing what he had to do, he stood, his hands still aglow with Areenna’s powerful blue light, picked up the Staff, and grasped it with both hands. He squeezed the Staff as hard as possible. The powerful blue light, so much a part of Areenna, danced along the Staff and then flowed over their bodies, expanding outward. When the light surrounded them, Mikaal raised the Staff until it was over his head, his arms straight and stiff. Quickly, before anyone could react, he brought his arms down and at the same time, his knee up. The instant it hit his knee, the Staff broke in two.

  White mist erupted from the severed ends, one trail covering Mikaal, the other Areenna. The white mist veiled both from the nine, who watched in stunned silence what he had done to their most important artifact.

  Within the envelope of white mist, Mikaal’s body arched. Then the white mist combined with the blue light and, suddenly, Areenna was gone from within his mind, as were any traces of the blue power. The white mists remained, swirling around the two, rising and combining high above them to hover for several long seconds before turning and diving downward to cleave into their bodies like a double tined spear.

  Then the white mist was gone.

  Dropping the broken Staff from numbed fingers, Mikaal knelt by Areenna. He lifted her to him, pressing her to his chest. An instant later, Areenna gave a loud gasp and drew in deep sucking breaths, as if she had been suffocating.

  Her lids opened and the iridescent depths of her sea-foam green eyes glowed. Behind him, a wailing grew from The Eight. “What have you done!” cried The Speaker. “You have destroyed the Staff. You have condemned Nevaeh!”

  Mikaal’s anger surged, flames leapt from his fingers and flew toward the eight sorceresses, but Areenna, still recovering, held him tight. No, Let me.

  He stood, withdrawing the flames and helped Areenna to her feet. She fixed The Eight with a hard stare. Stop howling like old hags! We have done no such a thing. We have done what was necessary. Areenna paused and then spoke aloud. “Moments ago, you gave us your trust only to now accuse us of destroying Nevaeh. The Eight of you are the wisest women Nevaeh has ever possessed; you have guided the people of Nevaeh through centuries upon centuries to reach this point. You are all so deeply rooted in your ways, and only your ways that you cannot see what is before you. Look at me! Look at Mikaal! Look at the Staff! What see you?”

  The Speaker drew herself upward, arching her snuck body as if preparing to strike. She pointed a long black finger at the broken Staff. “I see the Staff of Power, destroyed by the two people standing before me, because of a man’s selfish need for a woman!”

  Areenna smiled when The Speaker finished her tirade. She turned to the Master Jalil. You understand, do you not?

  “I understand.” The Speaker’s head swiveled in his direction. He held up a stalling hand. “As will you. The Staff was but the container of power, and an amplifier of power, but not the creator of power. Mikaal released the enclosed power to free Areenna. It was the only way. Mind you, they entered the Staff unaware of what they would face…as unaware as the eight of you!” He paused to look from The Eight to Mikaal and Areenna.

  “None of you know the story of how the Staff came to be. So you cannot fully understand. My grandfather did not make this Staff, did not create this object of power. Its creation was so far in the past, no one knows when. All that is known, is that the holies
t of men…” he stopped to look at Areenna and Mikaal again. “Holy men are…” He pushed a picture of several men kneeling around the Staff, their hands on the wood and their lips moving.

  “You would call them sorcerers, but they were not. They believed in a greater being, an all seeing being who looked over them, protected them, and used this belief to create the Staff for their leader, a Staff that would allow this…leader to free his people from centuries of slavery. The Staff had only one power, which was to hold the essence of its bearer with that of the greater power. Using the Staff, this holy man, this leader of slaves, freed his people. Over the millenniums, the powers of those who held the Staff filled it until it became a source of power unto itself.”

  “And when my grandfather gained possession, and his subverted ideology filled the Staff, it changed the power the Staff contained. Only a force, not just more powerful, but of something unexpected could have cast the Dark Ones’ emanations from the Staff. For the untold centuries, only male essences, male powers were contained in the Staff. Areenna and Mikaal’s powers… the joining of male and female powers countered all.”

  He turned to The Eight and glared at them. His frail body took on new life. He seemed to grow taller, stand straighter. “When Areenna and Mikaal met their enemy, there was but a single way to defeat them. Areenna took that path. Together as one, neither all male nor all female. Their powers melded together to form something never before experienced, and impossible to defend against, which is how they cast The Masters’ essences out.”

  The Speaker shook her head. “Yet, they no longer have the Staff as a weapon to use against the Dark Ones.”

  “You are wrong!” Mikaal exclaimed.

  The Speaker fixed a red-eyed glare on Mikaal. “Quiet, Man!”

  Mikaal smiled broadly and turned to Jalil. “Shall I finish?”

  Jalil nodded. Areenna placed her hand on Mikaal’s shoulder. He raised his right arm, his first and second fingers directed at The Speaker, and did a little mental push. White mist leapt from his hand, sped to The Speaker and wrapped around her. “The Staff and we are one. The Staff was broken for two purposes. To free Areenna and to prevent the Dark Ones from retaking it.”