Shattered Destiny

by West, Shay

  And yet she hesitated.

  She did not want to be exposed to the magic Jon wielded. It frightened and sickened her. That magic will save him!

  Kaelin turned back to Saemus, focusing her thoughts on her other half. She barely noticed when Brad came to sit with her, but she leaned against him when he pulled her close, taking comfort in his strength.

  Jon sighed and slumped forward. He felt so empty in the absence of the power, and yet a surge of adrenalin filled him with life. I did it. I used the magic without losing myself. He watched Kaelin as she held her brother in her arms. Jon fought the bitter rage that filled him. She had been one of the most outspoken when it came to his using the dark magic, but the second someone she loved was in real trouble, she'd ordered him to use it. She should be on her knees thanking me.

  Voilor brought Jon a water skin. He drank, taking special care to not allow a single drop to escape down his chin. With his thirst slaked, he needed nourishment. He walked to the nearest camel, ignoring the group gathered around Saemus, who was sitting up and asking for water.

  “How do you use the magic to heal?”

  Jon glanced at Shel Nal’ Vi. “It is difficult to explain. With the power, I can sense the injury and then use the magic to fix it.”

  “Our people can use magic, but they can do nothing like what you did.”

  “I have knowledge of forbidden magic.”

  Shel Nal’ Vi nodded. He had heard rumors of those who had the ability to take the life force from living things around them. This was the first time he had ever come into contact with someone who could do so.

  “That boy is lucky you have this ability.”

  Jon snorted. “Try telling them that.” He shoved the flap down on the large knapsack and walked away from the group.

  Shel Nal’ Vi watched Jon, feeling sorry for the lad. It was apparent that the others’ dismissal bothered Jon tremendously.

  Not one of the Chosen approached Jon. The more time that passed, the more tense he became.

  They should be thanking you, not treating you like this.

  Jon grunted at the voice in his head. It was right, of course. He had once again done something that none of the others could do. They treat me like a child with a dangerous toy. Well, I'm no child, and I don't have to allow them to tell me what to do.

  The scouting droid moved back to the lead machine, leaving the group in relative peace. Since there was no guarantee it would last, they needed to come up with a plan.

  “The Kromins will be here soon. Should we move away from the mountain and take our chances out there?” Feeror tilted his head away from the mountain and toward the vast emptiness of the Blasted Lands.

  “Why can't we just wait here until the Kromins come?” Keera asked. Her posture made it clear she liked the idea of staying under the rock ledge.

  “The sound weapon will work better if we get away from the mountain. If we discharge it here, the sound can only go one direction. But if we get out in the open, the sound will be all around. We have a better chance of killing the machines that way.”

  “Somehow I knew you would say that,” Keera said resignedly.

  “Stick together. And we may need to rely on you to use your power if a Mekan gets too close,” Feeror said.

  “We can't leave yet. Saemus needs to rest a bit more.” Kaelin stood next to her brother, acting for all the world like a mother hen watching out for her brood.

  “I'm fine, Kae.” Saemus tried to sound strong but his voice betrayed him. Truth be told, he would rather stay and close his eyes, and sleep for a week. His body felt strange. His bones tingled and arms and legs felt as though they were attached to his body with string. He felt fragile and was not sure he wanted to try his luck at walking; he feared his legs would buckle under him as soon as he tried to take a step.

  “We can stay a bit longer, but we must get moving soon. We need to be in position closer to the largest machine when the Kromins arrive,” Feeror said.

  Kaelin wanted to argue, but Saemus shushed her. He wasn't about to let his clumsiness keep the group from doing what needed to be done. He opened a pack and took out some dried beef and biscuits. As he ate, he finally noticed Jon for the first time, standing as far from the group as he could and still be under the canopy of the rock ledge.

  “Thanks for saving me.”

  Jon grunted but didn't turn around.

  Saemus sighed. “I know what it cost you. I am sorry you had to touch the magic again.”

  “You don't get it, do you? I like touching the magic!” Jon's face was filled with both anger and longing. “The urge to touch the magic is so strong that it takes all my will to fight it! A part of me wants to push you down the mountain just for the excuse to use it again.” Saemus faced this boy whom he had once called friend and realized that that boy no longer existed. His training at the hands of the Queen had changed him, forever. Can you still be his friend?

  “Now you see.” Jon turned away and refused to face him.

  Saemus knew there was no use trying to talk. The damage was done. If he hadn't hesitated, perhaps he could have convinced Jon that he still thought of him as the same person he had met so many years ago in Heart Stone.

  Convinced Jon? Or convinced yourself?

  * * *

  Feeror ordered the group to make ready to leave after barely an hour's rest. The Kromins had contacted them, and they were heading for the Blasted Lands. They would remain in orbit until the rest of the group was in position.

  “The small ones are scouting droids. They move about the ground and mark it somehow for the larger machines. Then the large ones come and dig for a time and the scouting droids either move to survey another spot, or they begin hauling the dirt back to the biggest one,” Feeror explained, wondering what, exactly, they were digging for.

  “These things you call Mekans do not seem to notice anyone or anything. That can be advantageous to us. We should be able to get close. All we have to worry about is avoiding the scouting droids -” the Nomad frowned as he said the strange word “- when they move about.”

  “I watched the small droids while we descended the cliff. The two on the right finish first and go back to the large Mekan. The one on the left finishes next, followed by the one nearest us. If they stick to the pattern, we should be able to predict when they will be on the move and get out of the way,” Sloan said.

  The others were surprised any of them had been able to pay attention to anything besides keeping their footing. Forka knew that it was Sloan's ability to assess a situation quickly, often while doing another task, which enabled him to gauge the machine's movements while stumbling down a steep hill.

  As the group left the shelter of the rock, a scouting droid left the belly of the large Mekan and started heading their way. Shel Nal’ Vi cried out as his arm was nearly wrenched out of its socket by the pulling and tugging of the poor terrified camels.

  Suddenly, the beasts stopped moving and just paced nervously, snorting and bawling.

  “I used magic to blind them. It works with horses.” Gwen smiled.

  The Nomad chastised himself for not using folds of cloth over their eyes. It was often done when the beasts were introduced to a new routine or an area that frightened them.

  The group jogged to the south in order to avoid the arrival of the small drilling Mekan. It got more and more difficult to walk as the machines came closer. The ground cracked and split as the tread on its huge wheels pushed the ground past its breaking point.

  The Mekan grew in size as it moved closer and closer, looking like some enormous metal mountain range. Even with their eyes blinded with the power, the camels could still feel the vibrations as the thing moved toward them. The Nomad wrapped their leads around his arms, trying to keep them from running.

  “There they are!” Keera pointed to the sky.

  The sleek travel pod zipped into view over the top of the scouting droid. It came to rest just a few hundred yards from where the group was huddled t
ogether, trying to keep their footing.

  The hatch opened, and the silver ramp descended. The Volgon and Astran Chosen ran forward to help unload the weapons.

  “Leave the plasma rifles! Get the computer, there!” Feeror shouted, pointing to the computer for the largest sound weapon.

  Keera, irritated at being yelled at, dropped the dozen plasma rifles she had been carrying with the power. Still using the magic, she hurled the computer out the door of the travel pod. She set the computer down gently, despite the ground's violent shaking. Feeror hurriedly set up the sound weapon and connected it to the computer. He had trouble keeping his footing, which in turn made it difficult to program the computer.

  “Blast this foul machine!” the big man cursed. The computer had not saved the readout from the last encounter with the Mekans back on Volgon. He would have to start from scratch.

  “They're coming!” Gwen shouted, pointing in the direction of the large Mekan. Two scouting droids made their way down the ramp and headed toward the group.

  “Hurry, man!” Sloan urged. The two were ahead of the schedule he had been sure they would follow. In a few short minutes, they would be rolling right over the group huddled around the computer.

  Feeror ignored the commotion and focused on trying to remember what the readout had looked like from before. He hit a few buttons, then fired up the weapon.

  The machines shuddered and paused but resumed their forward roll after only being dazed for a few short minutes.

  “I need more time. You will have to try to slow them down.”

  Jon drew on his own power and focused it on the Kromin ship. Plasma rifles came flying out the still-open hatchway. Voilor and Moylir deftly plucked them from the air. They quickly demonstrated how to power the rifles on and where the trigger was located.

  “Just point and shoot,” Voilor said with a grin.

  “Go for the moving track. If we can dislodge it or break it apart, the machine won't be able to move,” Moylir said, sharing a grin with her comrade. The threat of battle made her blood sing in her ears.

  The Chosen and the remaining two Guardians opened fire on the two scouting droids coming their way. The rifles spit red-orange bolts of light at the advancing Mekans.

  Keera picked herself up off the ground, having been thrown when the rifle recoiled. “You could have warned us about that!” the redhead yelled to the two Volgons. She looked and saw Gwen and Kaelin also flat on their backs.

  “You need to brace yourselves, ladies. Like so.” Brad held the plasma rifle against his right shoulder, left leg in front. He shot, and his body barely moved when the weapon fired.

  Keera rolled her eyes. “Again, would have been nice to know this before we were tossed around like ragdolls!” She helped the other two girls up. Both were groaning and rubbing their shoulders.

  The next round of fire broke the tread of the scouting droid in the lead, stopping it dead in its tracks. The second Mekan rolled toward its fallen comrade.

  “What is it doing?” Brad asked.

  Pieces of metal slid away on its bulky sides, and a pair of silvery arms extended slowly toward the fallen Mekan. The arms ended in two claw-like pinchers that grabbed the pieces of broken tread and pulled them together. A third door opened, and another arm snaked out. This one held some sort of tool or device. When it got close to the tread, it sent out a shot of bluish light.

  “I think it's repairing the damage,” Sloan said.

  The others groaned audibly when they noticed the tread melting back together when the blue light hit it.

  “Go for the arms!” Voilor shouted.

  The group fired at the arms of the Mekan. Several shots took off the ends of all three appendages. Smoke rose from the injured machine.

  The fourth scouting droid joined its injured comrades. Panels opened in its metal skin, and arms unfolded and snaked toward the first droid with the broken tread.

  Voilor opened fire and destroyed both of the Mekan's robotic arms.

  Jon fired at the Mekan, frustration building as the machine just kept coming. “These things are useless!”

  “What do you suggest? Our magic isn't strong enough,” Keera said.

  “Maybe yours isn't.” Jon began to draw on the life force he felt from the scrub brush growing out of the desert sand.

  “What are you doing?” Keera asked.

  Saemus, Gwen, and Kaelin rushed to stand behind Keera.

  “I'm done listening to the lot of you. First you demand that I leave the magic alone, then you beg me to use it when it suits you.” He glared at Kaelin. “I don't need you telling me what to do.” Jon felt somewhat vindicated when he saw Saemus blush and stare at the ground.

  “What you do puts us all at risk,” Keera said.

  “More than the threat they pose?” Jon pointed to the machines crawling toward them.

  When no one said anything else, Jon sent the forbidden magic into the nearest machine and shouted in triumph as fire enveloped the front of it. His elation was short-lived. The fire did little damage to the thick metal skin.

  Jon threw his hand in front, sending a wave through the ground, aimed directly at the lead Mekan. The machine fell to the side when the wave hit, its legs waving helplessly. One of its comrades helped it get back on its feet and the Mekans kept coming.

  “You got that thing figured out yet?” Sloan growled at Feeror, who was checking and rechecking the readouts from the computer.

  In response, the big man turned on the weapon. The Mekans shuddered violently but started moving about again only moments after the weapon stopped firing.

  “Hurry up! The big one is coming this way!” Gerok's face was white with terror.

  The biggest Mekan, many miles to the east, picked up its monstrous legs. The sound carried and penetrated the magic spell the Astrans had put around their ears. The Chosen and the two Guardians put their hands over their ears, crying out in pain. The Astran Chosen strengthened the barrier, only barely able to hear one another when they shouted.

  One of the legs of the colossal giant came down. Seconds later, the shockwave reached the group and knocked nearly all of them off their feet. Feeror grabbed frantically at the computer as it began to tip over. He studied the readouts intently, hoping to find the peak or valley that would indicate how to next adjust the computer. The paper shook in his hands.

  The second of the giant Mekan's four legs hit the ground, bringing it shockingly closer to the group.

  “How can it move so fast?” Keera asked, fighting the urge to run in the opposite direction.

  “It's not moving fast. One step is eating a lot of distance.” Sloan pointed out.

  Keera waved her hand dismissively. “Whatever the reason, we need to get that blasted weapon working before it gets here and crushes us to a pulp!”

  “I heartily agree with you.”

  The group fired at the lead Mekan, but the plasma rifle blasts merely blackened the machine's thick metal skin. It took another gargantuan step, and it was all Feeror and the Kromins could do to keep the sound weapon and computer upright.

  One of the legs holding up the sound weapon had fallen into a deep rut that had formed when the Mekan had taken its last step. Feeror directed the Kromins to move the weapon a little to the left.

  He made a few more adjustments to the computer, certain that he had the computer set correctly. He hit the firing button.

  The four small scouting droids stiffened immediately and fell to the side, sending up giant plumes of dust when they landed.

  The large Mekan had also stiffened but had not fallen over.

  “What is happening? Why isn't it falling?” Keera yelled frantically.

  “I don't know.” Feeror shouted, grabbing the readouts and scanning them quickly. On the surface, the one from the computer and the one from the Mekan looked identical. I missed something.

  The Mekan shuddered once and continued its forward movement toward the other four. As the leg came down, a terrible groaning and te
aring sound echoed across the Blasted Lands.

  Suddenly, the ground opened up near where the group was huddled together. Feeror ordered the Kromins to stay where they were and keep a grip on the sound weapon. He wanted to rush to the aid of those near the fissure, but he knew that if he didn't find the minute differences in the readouts, they would all die. Robert whirled at a shriek of terror behind him. Shel Nal’ Vi's arms circled wildly as he tried to keep his balance at the edge of the giant fissure that opened up beneath his feet.

  “Hang on!” Robert ran toward the falling man. He grunted as he hit the ground, arms reaching for the man who was hanging onto the lip of the crevase by the tips of his fingers. “I've got you! Just hang on!” He tried to haul the man out of the gaping hole in the ground but he lacked the strength. Robert looked to the left and right. Everything happened in slow motion. He felt the Nomad's grip slipping just as one of the Kromins heard his cry in its mind and slowly turned to find the source of the communication. Feeror was within arm's reach, but he might as well have been a mile away. The big man had to focus on the sound weapon. God, please help me!

  He looked down and found his gaze held by the Nomad. Robert was mesmerized by the terror he found there.

  “Please, don't let me fall! Help me!” The man's fingers gripped Robert's as hard as they could.

  And yet they slipped inch by agonizing inch.

  “Help me!” Robert screamed, refusing to look away from the man. He gritted his teeth against the spasm of pain that bolted down his arms from his shoulders.

  The Nomad slipped more, and his movement became a frantic attempt to reach the edge of the chasm. He twisted and kicked, sobs breaking forth as he slipped another inch. The ground continued to shake, forcing their grip to become even more tenuous.

  --Is there something we can do?

  “Get me one of the Astrans! I can't hold him!” Robert barely got the words past his clenched teeth.

  His fingers were beginning to go numb. He tried to raise his arms to bring the Nomad closer to the edge so that he could grab on, but he felt something tearing in his shoulders.