by West, Shay
Keera.
He smiled when he thought of her fiery temper. And just as quickly the smile disappeared when Valery's face filled his mind. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to force her away. As she faded, Amber took her place. He missed the two women, but at the same time, he hated them both for feeding his need for revenge.
Tess Golden's face was the next to invade his mind. This time, he did not try to force his thoughts from someone he had once been proud to call a comrade and friend. In his mind, she rubbed her crooked nose and her dirty blonde hair blew in wisps around her face, coming loose from her customary braid.
All of a sudden, her face changed, turning grey. Her hazel eyes were glazed and her head tilted back, revealing a gaping wound that had nearly taken her head from the rest of her body.
The guilt tore at Sloan, ate at him like a predator gnaws a bone. He did not try to fight it. He deserved every second of misery. He longed for death to take him. All he could hope for was that the coming fight with the Mekans would end his life and that it might erase some of the harm he had done.
His self-reproach was cut short by the arrival of Master Ferrok. “The other Masters and I are worried by the continued absence of the Chosen that traveled to Astra. Even with the difficulties in predicting exactly how much time has passed, based on previous excursions to Astra, the others are long overdue.”
The Earth and Kromin Chosen gathered closer, sharing Martha's anxiety. Now that Ferrok had spoken his worries aloud, it was as if he was giving them permission to admit that they had all been feeling uneasy.
“It has been decided that you will all travel to Astra and see if you can find out what has transpired. They must be in trouble of some kind or they would be here. Your Guardians have already been told about this and they will meet you in the portal chamber in short order.” Ferrok left the domicile of the Chosen, the dull colors of his bell indicating his fear and worry. Events were spiraling out of control and he was powerless to stop it. Ferrok wondered for the thousandth time whether he was responsible for what was transpiring.
* * *
The Earth and Kromin Chosen floated in front of the portal, waiting for their Guardians to arrive. Sloan found himself growing worried for Keera, hoping that nothing had happened to her.
“How are we going to find the others? We don't have time to search the whole planet,” Brad said, his long siphon blowing his exasperated breath out in a rush.
--We can find them. Number 1 said blandly.
“You can sense them even if they are not close by?” Martha asked incredulously.
--We can sense them now, but their signatures are faint.
“That's unbelievable!” Brad said.
--We can communicate with them if you wish.
“Why didn't you say something sooner?” Robert asked through clenched teeth.
--No one asked us.
“Please contact them.” Robert rubbed his hands across his face.
The Kromin clones hovered, silent and still for so long that the other Chosen wondered if they had fallen asleep.
--There has been an incident. The one you call Brok has been taken.
“Taken? By who?” Martha asked.
--They do not know.
Mirka and Forka arrived, and Robert filled them in.
Forka cursed, the water coming out of his siphon so forcefully that the Chosen backed up. They frowned and spoke softly, wondering why he was so upset.
“You realize that if we tell the Masters they might refuse to let us go? They never planned on us having to go on a rescue mission.” Forka said.
“Rescuing Brok will be much less dangerous than facing the Mekans,” Robert pointed out.
“Maybe it would be easier to simply leave quietly and not tell them,” Sloan shrugged.
“Are you suggesting we lie to our Masters?” Mirka's violet eyes spoke volumes.
“Would you rather sit here and leave them to rescue Brok on their own? They will have a better chance if there are more of us to help,” Sloan countered.
Mirka nodded reluctantly. She didn't like the idea of lying to Master Ferrok and the others, but she also didn't like the idea of allowing the rest of the Chosen to attempt a rescue on their own.
“I don't know. Maybe we should stay here and let the Astrans and Volgons handle things,” Brent said.
“They will need our help,” Sloan said.
“The Volgons are fighters, and the Astrans have that power. I bet they can handle it just fine,” Brent said.
“Maybe Brent is right. We could stay here and look through the prophecies and see if we can find something useful,” Martha suggested.
“We can look through the scrolls later. Our friends need our help. We haven't known them long, but I feel a connection to them,” Brad said.
“You certainly had a connection to one in particular,” Brent mumbled.
“Are you suggesting she is the only reason I wish to help? That's absurd!”
Forka groaned as the two swam to within inches of one another, hands clenched into fists. Martha and Forka moved between the two, trying to calm them down.
“What do you say?” Forka asked one of the clones floating next to him.
--We do not have a preference.
“Somehow, I knew you'd say that,” Forka snorted.
Once Brad and Brent had calmed down, Forka spoke. “We have some decisions to make. One of our friends is in trouble and could use our help. The Masters might not want us running off on a rescue mission that will endanger more of our lives, regardless of the fact that we are supposed to fight a dangerous enemy. Their thoughts dwell on keeping us alive. I think we should go to Astra and help our friends, and I also think we should keep quiet about what we do.”
“I agree about helping our friends, but I think we have to tell the Masters our plan. We can't just leave without telling them,” Mirka said.
“What say the rest of you?” Forka asked.
Brent and Martha showed hesitation at the idea of leaving, but reluctantly agreed when they realized they would be alone on this watery world if everyone else left. Forka breathed a sigh of relief. That left only one decision to be made.
“Do we leave quietly or tell the Masters?” Forka asked.
His heart sank as hands shot into the air in favor of telling the Masters of their plans to go to Astra to help rescue Master Brok.
“We don't have to go in person,” Sloan said, looking pointedly at the clones.
“But… but, that's cheating!” Mirka sputtered.
“How? We can go to the portal chamber and have the clones tell them of our plan. You never said anything about needing their approval,” Sloan said.
She crossed both sets of arms over her chest, mumbling to herself. The weight of her comrades’ stares made her throw up her arms. “Fine. Let's just get going before I change my mind.”
They did not speak as they made their way to the portal. Forka touched the symbol for Astra and entered immediately. Mirka did not hesitate, entering the portal when barely a minute had passed. Sloan was the last to enter. His last thought before he entered the portal was of a certain young Chosen with a fiery red bell.
ASTRA
THE ASTRAN CHOSEN had no problems following the tracks that led into the Shadow Mountains. It was obvious that a great deal of people, animals, and carts had passed this way. As there were no roads into the mountains, people had taken their carts wherever they would fit, and the result was several sets of tracks meandering through the trees.
As they climbed higher, the Chosen grew more and more anxious. They hoped that the tracks leading away from their home villages meant that the people had escaped and had settled in the mountains. But they also realized that there was a very real possibility that they had not escaped, that they had instead been taken and forced to travel into the mountains.
All of the Chosen agreed that they felt better knowing that their comrades were coming from Gentra to help them. They had nearly jumped out of
their skins when the voices of the telepaths had suddenly appeared in their minds, wanting to know why they had not yet returned to Gentra. Gerok had explained about Brok being taken captive and their desire to rescue the man. He'd told them they were heading into the Shadow Mountains. The Kromins did not seem worried about being able to find them once they and the Earth Chosen arrived on Astra.
No one spoke as they made their way higher into the mountains. It took all of their energy to keep moving. The stalwart Volgons began to grow short of breath as they climbed higher. The air grew chill.
Moira was a constant blur of motion. The little urgit rode on Kaelin's shoulder for a time, then scampered off to the nearest tree, bedecked in its fall splendor of gold, rust, and red leaves, to stuff nuts into her cheek pouches as fast as she could. She began digging a hole to stash her prizes, but noticed the others getting too far ahead. She ran to catch up, her cheeks bulging. She gave Kaelin a scolding look before racing off ahead of the group to hurriedly bury her cache.
“What's she doing?” Seelyr asked after watching the little urgit perform this chore half a dozen times.
“She's burying food stores for the winter. Creatures like her have to hoard food for the cold months when nothing grows. The changing of the seasons prompts her instincts to gather food and bury it,” Saemus answered.
“Do you have to do the same thing?” Moylir asked.
“We keep food stores but not buried in the ground. After the harvest, we place fruits and vegetables in cellars that will keep the produce cold. We also dry fruits so that they will last longer,” Jon said. After a moment, he grinned. “Our cellars are located underground so I guess in a way we do bury our food during the winter.”
“Yes, but with one important difference. We don't have to dig it all up!” Gwen laughed.
“How awful! You would be picking dirt out of your teeth all winter,” Keera said in disgust.
“As fast as you eat, you wouldn't even notice.” Gwen snorted.
“She's got you there, Keera,” Jon said, grinning.
“Oh yeah? Well you can both just…well, you know what I think? You….” Keera sputtered and turned red as the others roared with laughter. “Oh, the spirits take you! I'm going to talk to Feeror and Kyron. At least they don't stand around giggling like a bunch of idiots.” She stormed off muttering to herself.
“We're getting close,” Voilor said, putting up a hand as he noticed Kyron and Feeror stop Keera. They moved ahead, keeping to the shelter of the trees and bushes. The timber had grown thicker as they had climbed in elevation, and the closely-growing trees afforded the two Volgons good protection.
Feeror came trotting back silently. The Astrans marveled at the ability of the Volgons to tread without making a sound. The Volgons had tried to teach the Astrans how to move, but they had not quite gotten the hang of it.
Except for Gwen. She had taken to moving stealthily like she had taken to life aboard Lucian's Fury. She enjoyed sneaking up on her fellow Astran Chosen and giving them a good scare. She had not been able to do so with the Volgons. They told her it wasn't noise that gave her away.
“It is as if we can feel when someone is near. It is hard to explain,” Moylir had told her.
Gwen had also taken to practicing the forms with the boys in the evenings, when they had stopped for the night. She lost herself in the movement, in the feeling that she was one with the bundle of sticks she used in place of a weapon. She enjoyed the fatigue, the cramping of the muscles as she forced them to do work they were not accustomed to. The male Volgons ignored her at first, but as she quickly outpaced the boys, they soon began to give her grudging respect.
Feeror told her she was doing well. Ever since that first day when they arrived, he had felt a grudging admiration for the power the dwarf girl possessed. No one, not even the strongest of the Gorkons, had been able to bring him so easily to the verge of death. Anyone else would have feared the girl; Feeror admired her.
Feeror's acceptance of Gwen's physical deformity appeared to be rubbing off on Voilor. The Volgon male would at least speak to Gwen, although he could not look her in the eyes. Kyron, on the other hand, grew angry and sullen. He refused to be anywhere near the dwarf girl and even shunned his fellow Chosen. He spent much of his time alone. The others tried to coax him to join the group, but this only enraged him.
One day, while watching Feeror work with Gwen, the big Volgon threw back his head and roared. He charged at Feeror and pushed Gwen roughly to the ground. Gwen staggered to her feet.
“Have you forgotten everything you are?” Kyron snarled.
Feeror's face turned red as he faced his comrade. “Of course I have not forgotten. I am a Volgon warrior.”
Kyron sneered. “You are no warrior. A real warrior would not be accepting of that.” He spat as he pointed to Gwen.
“She is strong, Kyron. Her form may be repulsive, but the little one has power. And she has taken to learning our ways….”
Kyron interrupted, pointing a finger in Feeror's face. “That is the worst injustice if all. Sharing our ways with someone who is not worthy. I should kill you where you stand.” Kyron's face was a rictus of hate and rage.
“You would die in the attempt.” Feeror stood taller, placing his weight on the balls of his feet, ready to move at a moment's notice. Instead of standing rigid, he looked almost relaxed.
Gwen backed away from the two, unwilling to get in the middle of a fight. I will defend Feeror if need be. She could not believe he was standing up for her against his own kind. She felt a fierce pride and something else that made her heart flutter in her chest.
She had been feeling it since they had taken to practicing the forms. Feeror would begin the night fully clothed, but by the time they had been practicing for a half an hour, he would have pulled his tunic off. His chest and arms, bulging with muscles, would be covered in a sheen of sweat. One particular lock of hair would fall out of the leather band holding it back. Gwen found herself longing to push it back from his sweaty brow.
She shook her head to clear it of the images of Feeror's flesh and how it glistened in the light of the fire. How can I be having these thoughts? I love Jon…don't I? Her feelings were all a jumble. She had spoken to Keera about it, and the girl had been her usual blunt self.
“What is there to be confused about? The man is extremely handsome and strong. Besides, Jon still can't keep his eyes off Kaelin. You would be better off forgetting about Jon Stone.”
Gwen had noticed Jon noticing Kaelin. But it doesn't bother me like it used to. She had to admit that the flashes of jealousy were fleeting at best and were forgotten as soon as Feeror came into view. So what does it all mean?
“Stop this at once! Are you both mad?” Gerok moved between the two Volgons, interrupting Gwen's musings. “There is too much at stake for the two of you to be carrying on like two pups.” Gerok gave the pair a disgusted look.
The two stayed away from each other after that and only spoke when necessary. Kyron's hatred of the girl only seemed to grow with the passing miles, and Gwen could feel his eyes on her as they traveled. She tried her best to walk normally, but she soon gave up when her muscles began cramping so badly that she could hardly move.
As the group approached the camp at the top of the mountains, Feeror returned to his fellow Volgons and whispered, “There are people just up ahead. I can smell the smoke from their fires.” “Until we know if they are friend or foe, you will remain here. I will take Gwen with me to scout.” Gerok held up his hands as Jon and Saemus began to protest. “You two are as quiet as a melgor crawling across a pebble field. She can move silently, and she will recognize people from your villages.”
Gwen shot the two a smile as they rolled their eyes and shuffled off, mumbling about the unfairness of it all. She tried to control her nerves as she walked next to the Volgon Guardian. She had never been alone with him before. She was grateful that he walked slowly and matched her pace. She took a deep breath and found that she could now
smell the smoke. They walked for another mile or more until they could hear the sounds of people, and quite a number of them by the noise.
Gwen stopped Gerok with a hand on his leg. When he opened his mouth to question her, she shook her head sharply. She gathered her power and sent in the direction of the people. She knew what she was looking for, and as soon as she found it she gave a squeal of delight.
“It's them! Tell the others!” She took off as fast as her legs could carry her, ignoring Gerok's exasperated shout. Her parents were close. She ran faster, her breath coming in gasps.
“Papa!” Gwen saw her father, Bart, standing next her mother.
Gwen flew into her father's arms, and as he picked her up and hugged her, she felt as though she would die from sheer joy. She sobbed in relief, glad that he was alive and well.
“Gwen?” Her mother, Cynde, ran toward her husband, hearing Gwen's voice calling. She shouted out and grabbed her daughter from her husband's grip, crushing the girl to her chest. She stroked her daughter's hair and let the tears fall freely.
Gwen did not even notice when the others arrived, yelling for their families. The woods were soon filled with the cacophony of shouting and screaming as the villagers tried to pass the word through the entire camp.
“Where is Master Brok?” Rome Collins, the village leader, stood off to the side, trying to be patient, but his need for answers overcame the need for decorum.
“We were attacked on the way to your village, and he was taken,” Gerok answered.
“And who might you be?” Rome asked bluntly. The man stood a full foot shorter than the Volgon Guardian, but he stood his ground, meeting Gerok's stare.
“I am a friend of Brok. We trained together.” Gerok tried to stop the rapid beating of his heart. He was not certain what Brok had told this man, and he was loath to say anything that would contradict what Brok may have told him.
“Where have you been? We thought you had all been killed. And there have been rumors, terrible rumors,” Rome said.