Revelation: The Todor Trilogy, Book One

by Jenna Newell Hiott

  “It is different for you, brother,” Gemynd said, knowing his friend would never truly understand his position. “You do not have to pretend to be something you’re not. You don’t have to give up glinting. You can’t. Your glinting powers are your very body. And the people here do not fear you or your abilities. The Keepers are glad for it and they will ask you to do the heavy lifting soon enough.”

  “I have sacrificed plenty to be here too,” Soman said. “But I made a promise to return.”

  “As did I,” Gemynd replied. “A promise based on ignorance. If we had known…”

  “If you had known what?” Numa asked, sounding irritated. “Gemynd, look at me. Yes, I know the emptiness of turning away from a vast and wonderful part of myself just to be here. But I made the choice to do so. And I would make the same choice a thousand times over, because it means I can be with you.”

  An infinite sea of thoughts churned and foamed in Gemynd’s mind. He tried to separate himself and be the thought-watcher the way he could do in Iturtia. If only he could do it now and insert the thought he wanted to have: that he was full of Joy at being in Aerie with Numa and Soman and all was well.

  Gemynd sighed. “So, tell me, brother, what was your training like? I have missed so much time with you.”

  Soman gave him a smile and Gemynd fully understood why the women went weak-kneed around him. The man was unarguably beautiful. “Let’s just say that coming back to Aerie was not an easy decision,” Soman said. “Zoban is spectacular. Breathtaking women, delicious food, and luxurious comfort.”

  Gemynd laughed and his nervous mind began to settle. “And did you do any actual training?”

  “Oh, yes,” Soman replied. “I learned to fly.”

  “Fly?” Gemynd asked, astonished.

  “All Zobanites can fly,” Soman said with a wink.

  Gemynd stared at him, wide-eyed. “What I wouldn’t give to see that,” he said. “Perhaps one day we can leave Aerie together and you can show me your flying abilities.”

  “Of course,” Soman answered. “And you can show me all you can do.”

  “Look at these!” Numa said suddenly, reaching for a small bundle of sticks that the children at discipleship left behind.

  “Pick-up-sticks,” Soman said.

  Gemynd looked at Soman and Numa, recalling vividly the three of them as children, spending hours at the game. It was one of the few activities they enjoyed equally for not one of them stood out as a superior player. How many times had they lost control of themselves in fits of laughter over the silly game? “We were Joyful then,” Gemynd mused aloud.

  “And we will be again,” Numa replied. “You’ll see.”

  “We will laugh again, the three of us, just as we once did,” Soman said. “I’m certain of it. If the Deis saw fit for us to be back together in Aerie, I’m certain we will return to a state of Joy.”

  Gemynd wanted so badly to agree with his friends. But there was a nagging sense of misgiving that would not leave his mind. “I am weary,” he announced. “I believe I shall return to the sleeping house for a rest. But let us meet back here tomorrow and see if any of our skills at pick-up-sticks have improved over the years.”

  “I look forward to tomorrow then, brother,” Soman said and pulled Gemynd into an embrace. For a single breath, Gemynd let himself feel safe there, surrounded by unimaginable strength and the bonds of childhood memories.

  Numa went to the sleeping house with Gemynd and set him on the bedsack as she poured him a cup of tea. “Horsetail,” she said and handed it to him. “I’m concerned about your health. You’ve grown even more pale.”

  “I just need rest,” Gemynd assured her as he took the cup. “Numa, I hope my words and actions have not hurt you in any way. I love you with my whole heart, my whole life. I want to be with you more than anything. I am just having doubts that this is the right place for it. Perhaps I could learn to live without glinting. But I am having the most difficult time shaking off this feeling that Aerites are not to be trusted, especially the Keepers.”

  “Just promise me that we will always stay together no matter what,” Numa said and kissed him on the cheek. “Promise me that and we’ll work out the rest.”

  Gemynd looked into her green eyes. He remembered when they were children and he’d called her ‘Grass Eyes.’ She had been so angry with his teasing. But even then, that long ago, he had loved her. “I promise we’ll stay together,” he said. “And you promise me the same.”

  “I promise,” she replied. “Now get some rest. I made that tea strong. It will help you sleep.”

  When Gemynd opened his eyes it was night again and he was alone in the sleeping house. Numa must have gone to the Eating House or perhaps the Bathhouse. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up and spotted the dagger, moonlight glinting off its jeweled hilt. And he saw that the peace declaration lay on the floor next to it. He stared at it for several moments and then decided he would give it to the Keepers right away. Perhaps if true peace came to Todor, his feelings of unease would dissipate. He knew there was a slim chance of it working out that way, but he also knew it was his best option to save his sanity.

  Gemynd walked quickly to the Wishing Hut but then paused just outside the doorskin. He could hear several of the Keepers’ voices speaking in hushed tones as though an important meeting was taking place. Rather than announce his presence, Gemynd crept up to the doorskin to listen.

  “He is a threat, plain and simple,” Gemynd heard Keeper Clary say and the hairs on Gemynd’s neck stood on end. Were they talking about him?

  “His father is the threat,” another Keeper said. “We cannot say anything for sure about Gemynd. He did take the oath after all.”

  “Oaths mean little to Iturtians,” Keeper Clary said, confirming all of Gemynd’s suspicions.

  “Let’s not forget that we do not even know for sure that Golath is a threat,” another Keeper put in, Gemynd recognizing this one as Keeper Stout.

  “We know that he is Director of Iturtia and that the Queen was killed by Iturtians,” Keeper Clary said. “What more do we need to know?”

  Gemynd looked at the peace declaration in his hand. He could end all of this right now by going into the Wishing Hut and handing it to the Keepers. They could say nothing more against his father once they saw his true intentions. But something held him back. He was beginning to wonder if peace was really the right thing. Why should Keeper Clary make the choices for the people of Todor?

  “What do you propose?” another Keeper asked.

  “Do you wish to banish Gemynd or destroy him?”

  “Hush now,” Keeper Clary said. “I have a proposition in mind, but it will require all of you to have faith that I have Todor’s best interests in mind.”

  “What is your proposition, Elder Keeper?”

  “If we embrace Gemynd completely and remind him that he is one of us, we can persuade him to trust us absolutely. And once he does, we can begin to weaken his view of Golath. If we do this, he will come to see that Golath is his true enemy,” Keeper Clary said and Gemynd felt a knot of heat form in his belly.

  “Then we can use one Iturtian to destroy another,” a different Keeper finished. “And if the one Iturtian is loyal to us, we can control him.”

  A moment of silence passed. “I propose we vote,” Keeper Clary said. “It seems clear to me that the only way to bring true peace back to Todor and, especially Aerie, is to destroy Golath. We can use Gemynd to help us reach that goal. What’s more, since Gemynd is in line to be the next Director of Iturtia, we will finally have control of Iturtia as well. And we would do this in the name of peace. So, what say you? Do you vote to take Gemynd into our fold and enlist his help in bringing lasting peace to Todor?”

  Gemynd felt his blood turn to ice and he leaned his head back against the doorframe for stability. His heart pounded so loudly he feared the Keepers would hear it.

  “I vote yes,” Keeper Clary began.

  “Yes,” said another Keeper.
r />   “Yes,” said another, although in a begrudging tone.

  “Yes,” said a fourth.

  Then silence once again. “Keeper Stout? How do you vote?” Keeper Clary asked.

  Gemynd heard Keeper Stout take a deep breath. “Yes,” he said quietly.

  And with that one word, something deep inside Gemynd broke open.

  He shoved the peace declaration back in his boot and tore through the doorskin. He was filled with rage and hatred. “You will pay for your betrayal!” he shouted and, using his mind, threw all of the books from the shelves.

  “Gemynd?” Keeper Stout said, jumping to his feet. A look of pure shock on his face.

  Gemynd looked around and only then realized there was no one else in the room. “Where did the other Keepers go?” he asked, wanting to rip Keeper Clary into pieces.

  “The other Keepers are sleeping on their bedsacks downstairs,” Keeper Stout answered, his eyes wide. “I am the only one up here.”

  “No!” Gemynd shouted, this ruse only making him angrier. “I heard you! I heard all of you! Plotting against me and my father. It would never have worked.”

  “Gemynd, please sit down,” Keeper Stout pleaded. “I am not sure what you mean, but let us talk about it calmly and we’ll have it figured out in no time.”

  “The time for talk is over!” Gemynd snapped and began walking in a circle around the room, kicking books out of his way. “Keeper Clary will pay for his scheming ways.”

  Gemynd heard movement outside the doorskin and looked up to see Soman walk in with Ruddy Tom close on his heels. They were both laughing as though they had just shared a marvelous jest. No doubt a jest at Gemynd’s expense. “So I was right to doubt you,” Gemynd sneered at Soman. “You and Tom have been in on this together from the start.”

  Soman wrinkled his brows in confusion and walked to within an arm’s reach of Gemynd. “You are not well, brother,” he said. “Let me take you to the Healers.”

  “Do not touch me,” Gemynd said, taking a step back. He looked at Soman’s face, then Tom’s and finally, Keeper Stout’s. They were duplicitous vipers clothed to look like his friends.

  Destroy them, Gemynd heard a voice say from deep within himself. Destroy them all.

  Gemynd knew what must be done.

  He kept his eyes locked on Keeper Stout and focused all his attention on the wood that made up the walls of the Wishing Hut. He knew the boards were splintering before they even made a sound. Then, all at once, the Wishing Hut crashed to the ground in a pile of dirt and shattered wood. Only Gemynd remained standing in the center of the rubble.

  As the dust began to clear, Soman arose from the pile. He had a look of stricken horror on his face that Gemynd found to be utterly absurd and he burst into laughter from it.

  “You’ve killed them!” Soman roared, pointing at the ground beneath their feet. The Wishing Hut had collapsed onto the Keepers below, crushing them in their sleep.

  “Not all of them, I’m sure,” Gemynd hissed. “Your ancestor survives.”

  Gemynd heard a commotion begin in the center of the village and without moving his body at all, he began systematically destroying every structure in Aerie. Row by row, he demolished the sleeping houses. In a matter of seconds, he had flattened the Meeting House, the foodstock barn, the Healers’ house, the Weavers’ house, the Butcher, the bathhouses. The people screamed and ran in random patterns all about. Horses and foodstock stampeded in a panicked attempt to escape. Aerie appeared to be in total chaos. But to Gemynd there was nothing chaotic about it. It was a beautiful dance organized by him alone.

  He focused his powers next on the Eating House, the final structure standing in all of Aerie. As it crumbled to the ground, Gemynd felt giddy to see it burst into flames. What a beautiful surprise!

  Gemynd knew it was now time to turn his attention to the Baldaquin tree. He felt a grin creep across his face as the enormous tree groaned and creaked and popped until it came crashing to the ground with a roar louder than a thousand thunders rolled into one.

  It was done. In less than a minute, Aerie was gone.

  Gemynd turned back toward the Wishing Hut. He had to make sure Keeper Clary was finished once and for all. He was Zobanite, but could be killed by decapitation. Just as he’d suspected, the old man had pulled himself from the rubble of the Wishing Hut and was struggling to get to his feet.

  “I can’t let you do that,” Soman said as he approached, towering over Gemynd. Through the haze of the dust and flames, he looked even more like one of the Deis than he had before. For a moment, Gemynd was afraid.

  “This isn’t your fight, brother,” he said, trying to reason with him.

  “You’re killing my people,” Soman said. “You’ve made it my fight.”

  Once again, Gemynd knew what he must do. He had only used psychpersuasion during his training, but he remembered well how to do it. He focused his attention on Soman and quickly entered his mind. He laughed aloud to find he’d met no resistance. It was as easy as walking into an open field. His father had been right: Zobanites possessed no will of their own.

  Staying in Soman’s mind, Gemynd inserted the thought: Kill Keeper Clary. Kill the Ancestor.

  And without opposition or argument, Soman began walking toward the rubble that had been the Meeting House where an axe lay on the ground. As he walked, he kicked a board, uncovering Keeper Stout.

  Gemynd felt a tightening in his chest as he looked upon the dead body of his lifelong teacher. The Joy was gone from his eyes, the smile no more on his face. What had he done? Gemynd wondered for just an instant before the sensation of two warring beasts clamored inside of him.

  He could bear looking at it no longer so he turned again to Soman who was now approaching Keeper Clary, the axe raised menacingly above his head. Gemynd smiled again to see how easy it was to control a Zobanite. He continued to watch with fascination as Soman kicked Keeper Clary to the ground, then lowered the axe down upon his neck. The old man’s head was severed in a single blow.

  From the corner of his eye, Gemynd saw Numa running towards him, screaming something he could not hear. He grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. “We must destroy the mines,” he said to her. “We must relieve Todor of this cursed source of wealth.”

  As he stood there with Numa over his shoulder, he focused all his attention on the jewel mine that ran underneath the entire length of Aerie. He felt the rumble under his feet and knew it was a success. Within seconds, Aerie would collapse into its own pit.

  A shadow then caught Gemynd’s attention and he turned to see what looked like a swarm of people flying through the valley towards Aerie. “Zobanites!” he shouted into the air. Then he turned to Numa who squirmed against his grasp. “If you ever loved me, you’ll take us to Iturtia. Right now.”

  And suddenly Gemynd was standing in the red sands of home.

  Golath paced back and forth in his office. “You destroyed Aerie and so have declared war,” he said. “There is no escaping that now. Peace is no longer an option.”

  “I know that, Father,” Gemynd said, unsure if Golath was pleased or disappointed in Gemynd’s actions.

  Golath paused in his pacing to look at Numa. “And you brought an Empyrean here against her will?” he asked Gemynd through psychspeak. “Do you know that she could destroy all of this simply by bidding the rocks to crumble?”

  Gemynd nodded and wanted to reassure his father, though he understood why he was upset. “I know what she can do, I’ve seen it. But I know what I’m doing,” he said. “If she didn’t want to be here, she wouldn’t be.”

  Golath took a deep breath and it seemed that Gemynd’s words had calmed him some. “Then I guess it’s time we work on our plan of attack,” he said.

  Gemynd walked across the room and gazed upon Numa’s face. It was streaked with tears and dirt and blood. A bruise was forming on her left cheek and her lips trembled. Gemynd reached out to wipe a tear from her face and she closed her eyes at h
is touch. He had thought she would fear him after what he’d done. But it seemed the opposite. It seemed his touch still brought her comfort. “I hate myself for hurting you,” he said quietly to her then turned back to Golath.

  “My plan, Father, is to take control of Todor for Iturtia once and for all; to put the power of the land in our hands where it belongs. And Numa is going to help us do it.”

  If you enjoyed Revelation, you’ll love

  Disintegration

  Coming early 2015, the second book of The Todor Trilogy

  Sign up here for pre-launch specials and notifications about the book:

  http://TheTodorTrilogy.com

  Every moment of my experience, every encounter with other living beings, has shaped the fascinating world that is my imagination and was necessary to create this work. I am humbly grateful for every bit of it.

  There are also specific individuals to whom I am especially grateful, whose love and support truly made this book possible:

  To my beautiful mother whose talented hands and mind created the maps that make the Todor Trilogy complete.

  To Jesse Hiott, Darcy Newell, Lynn Vaughn, Betty Newell, Bob Newell, Diana DeBlanc and Doug Gibson for being my readers and giving me the precious gift of your time, insight and wisdom. Thank you for taking my neuroses and sense of urgency to heart and giving me the very best of you. Not only have you helped put the ‘spit and polish’ on this book, but you have also shown me what it means to be genuinely supported. I am so thankful for all of you.

  To Ben Hiott for inspiring me to make my own dreams come true and for showing me what it means to have the courage to bare one’s soul to the world.

  To Robert Candelaria, my angel, for saving my life in so many ways.

  To my teachers, past and present, who have each had a profound effect on bringing this creation to life, including Jan Wahl, Richard Melzer, Noel Pugach, Sonia Choquette, Carolyn Myss, Mata Amritanandamayi, Kylie Renner and Drew Groves. In particular, I want to thank Joanne Flaherty who was the first to encourage me to pursue writing.