by Gwynn White
‘I…am I a queen now?’ asked Priestess Silica astounded. ‘I’ve been waiting at Lightend Sanctuary for weeks, and now I’m a queen.’
All faces smirked.
‘I killed him,’ said Abyslam, suddenly, drawing attention. ‘I killed the king. For all of you.’
Toxiv rubbed his arm. ‘How?’
Abyslam swallowed. ‘It was the queen’s plan, really. At the first signs of the plague, I notified her son of her illness. That’s when she told me her plan. He didn’t know. The king was with his army at Old Bow. He knew she was unwell, but left for Old Bow without seeing her—too afraid he’d catch the plague.
‘When he lost control over his people, a madness descended on the king. As the queen asked, I got him drunk, took him to the queen’s room and tied him to the bed. We locked him inside.’
‘Senya is better off,’ said General Pernavaka.
Abyslam glanced at her, not disagreeing.
‘You did the right thing,’ Toxiv said, reassuring him. ‘Pernavaka, now you’ll be a queen, do you mind if Abyslam becomes our general?’
‘With proper training. He is young.’
Abyslam stared at Toxiv. ‘You want me to lead an entire army?’
‘Aren’t you ready?’ she asked.
‘Of course!’ he replied. ‘I would do anything for you.’ He looked at the other healers. ‘All of you.’
They smiled warmly at him. Silica battered her eyelashes. Toxiv glared at her.
Just you try it, whore, Priestess Toxiv thought at the younger, beautiful priestess.
‘I have been writing a sort of, well, not a story but an idea, for some time,’ said Toxiv. ‘It is a new set of laws, but written as a moral guide for the Senyan people. To encourage kindness and harmony.’
‘What is it?’ asked Yelloza, intrigued.
‘I have named the writings A Perfect City. When it’s completed, I thought all of you might like to read it and give me your opinions. I intend to persuade the people to work towards eliminate pain and suffering.’
‘That sounds wonderful,’ said Silica. ‘No suffering. Imagine that.’
Yelloza smiled. ‘A Perfect City. This sounds like book I’d judge by the cover.’
Toxiv rose from her seat, taking Abyslam’s hand. ‘I would like to rest now.’
The other women rose. ‘Rest well. There is much to be done.’
She left the healers, and in the passageway turned to Abyslam saying, ‘Fetch me paper, a quill and ink.’
He gave her a playful smile. ‘Now that you have me alone, that’s what you ask for.’
Toxiv frowned at him, a little irritated. The others had approved her idea for a manifesto. Writing new laws and ethics would be the pinnacle of her entire existence, didn’t he know that? ‘A queen presiding over a new city must not waste time on pleasure.’
Abyslam sniffed with amusement. ‘Not even one hour? A queen dictates when she will spend time with her subjects, doesn’t she?’
Toxiv stepped backwards. ‘You said you wanted to serve me. We will spend time together, but now I must work. Why don’t you go and introduce yourself to the soldiers you’re to command. Play at sword fighting or something.’ She waved him away dismissively.
Abyslam winced as if she’d slapped him. ‘As you command.’
Toxiv sat found a small writing desk with fresh ink and paper. She sat down to write, and for four hours scribbled furiously.
‘Still writing?’ Abyslam asked, leaning against the doorway.
‘Hush,’ Toxiv said, ignoring him, and continued writing.
The ideal is bigger than the thinker. The living live for the unborn. The fighters fight for all that has not come to pass, because of this, the people of the perfect city sleep their peaceful sleeps.
THE END
This book is a prequel to two main series written by K. J. Colt. Both as set in the same world.
Find out more by continuing with The Healers of Meligna Series, Book One: Concealed Power.
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About the Author
U.S.A Today Bestselling Epic Fantasy and Science Fiction author K. J. Colt writes stories with a psychological twist. By threading common psychological pathologies such as anxiety, depression, and mood disorders into her storytelling, she creates deeper more dynamic characters.
She's published almost a million words, and a half million of her books are in the hands of readers.
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Ultras
CIPHERVERSE, BOOK ONE
Timothy C. Ward
Forbidden Memories. Ancient Powers. Galactic Uprising.
Long ago, the Rucien people were spirited away to the safety of a distant planet. The discovery of technology that uses memories to fold space has brought back the danger they left millennia ago.
Now Cullen, the exiled son of the Rucien Star General, is given a way home. But first, a mission: rescue a family from prison and escort them through a jungle full of genetic experiments gone wrong. No problem.
In their escape, Ehli and her son, Emmit discover strange powers and the dark secret behind Ehli's husband's death. As an ancient power creates unstable abilities, their destiny wrestles with tragedy on the edge of a cliff.
If the dangers they face in Jehu Jungle are only the beginning, the tales of their glory may be short lived.
1
Cullen let the flicker of holographic mugshots slow to a random end as the loud percussion of drums and distorted guitar in his headphones drove his head back and forth to the beat. Some nights, the musical nostalgia of Shutt Freq's melodic, and angry tones helped keep him in tune with the stolen piece of his life, galaxies and a decade away. He rubbed his dry eyes and examined the discarded middle of an S-class freighter outside the viewport of his cockpit. Parked at the far end of the otherwise empty garage, the pale light from the rafters reflected off bare metal rusting away through lack of use. Gone were the parts that formed the cockpit, pullspace generator, and, he assumed, anything else the Osuna war machine could use in their efforts to hunt his bloodline.
The answer to their search for his home wasn't in the raiding and capture of interstellar colonies only five generations old. His people knew better than to let anyone off planet with memories pullspace could use to travel back to their home.
Except that his father had let him leave with his memories.
The risk and purpose escaped him even now. If the Osuna captured him, they would break him—no one withstood their torture.
And with this knowledge he lived on, at this moment in a garage of a spaceport, scrolling for bounties under a false identity.
Torek showed up in the hallway exiting beside the S-class. A young man walked behind the taller, Torek, his hands empty of weapons. He wore a bartender's black uniform with gold side buttons.
Torek waved with false enthusiasm, eyes and mouth wide like a kid seeing his favorite star racer, then tapped his earpiece, silencing Cullen's music. "I see you're still up wasting time hunting jobs." His voice crackled in through the coms. "I tell you, Jolnes, the only way of getting something across to this guy might be to smear it in poop across the viewport of his ship."
"The kind of damage we've taken lately," Cullen replied, "I'd take cleaning your crap over the repairs we'll have to pay for."
Torek watched Cullen as he and Jolnes walked past the nose of the Talis. He nodded with a smile that generally indicated something only one of them found funny, or helpful. "Our financial problems are about to be solved. How's the wristcom repair going?"
Cullen checked the wristcom sleeved on his left forearm and tapped the music player off. "It'll do for now." The new hard drive Torek had given him worked, and the battery held a decent charge, but the holograms and processing speed were fuzzy and slow. He'd pick a new one up as soon as they fixed the ship.
"Good, cause you're gonna need that
. Take care of it."
Cullen remembered the 150-kilo woman with the downward swing that had broken it in the first place. She'd been Torek's choice of bounty, and he'd conveniently missed that fun little skirmish—not that Cullen gave Torek enough credit for the floor caving in, trapping Cullen under a broken support beam. Lingering soreness in Cullen's left wrist and lower back kept that memory strong. He wondered how many bruises this new job would involve.
Bootsteps clanged on the ladder leading up through the hatch and into the cockpit.
Cullen took his earplugs out and put them in his vest pocket, turning as Torek and Jolnes strode in.
"Jolnes, this here's the captain of our fine ship."
Cullen extended his right fist and bumped outer wrists with Jolnes. "Forget ninety-nine percent of what he's said so far, then pray the other one isn't true."
Jolnes and Torek smiled as though they had a few inside jokes of their own. "This is going to be a big one percent," Jolnes said.
Torek motioned for Jolnes to have a seat in the co-pilot chair. "Sure is."
As Jolnes made himself comfortable in Torek's seat, he glanced over the action strips on the armrests with an air of respect. Not like a bartender would.
"You sat in a pilot's chair before, Jolnes?" Cullen knew the answer, but didn't have the energy to call out the bartender disguise.
"Oh yeah." He tugged on his uniform. "This was just a cover until you arrived."
"I never would have guessed." Cullen's attention turned to Torek, with his crossed arms and kid-with-a-bag-of-candy smile. "As much fun as I know you're having keeping this secret in, I'm tired, so just spill it."
Torek opened his mouth to start.
"And start with the worst part," Cullen interjected.
Torek closed his mouth into a grin. "Always steppin' on my fun 'fore I've had it. But fine, I mean, death...." Torek extended a thumb to count the first. On the extension of his next finger, he said, "Haven't been bitten by a tiger in a while. Three, could be you finally respect me enough to stop with these jokes and just trust I know what I'm doing. Maybe I should've started with that, since that would be worse than death for you." Torek ended with a chuckle.
"Anything else?" Cullen asked, knowing there was plenty left unsaid whenever Torek made jokes.
Torek rolled his eyes and paced to his left. "What else is new when it comes to our jobs? We risk capture by the Osuna every time you leave this ship. The difference with this job is, we can make enough money to build your ship up with all the brightest enhancements."
"What's the business?"
"Teaming up with the guy responsible for the Rucien rescues. He has fenarum mines, and buyers to funnel his fuel to non-Osuna ships. He's doing what we've talked about: taking advantage of the new holes in the Osuna's defenses. Not to mention market demand for fuel being higher than it's been in a decade."
They'd spent too many hours to count plotting how to join or start that kind of black market. If Torek was going to sell him on a job, it usually spun this angle. Cullen couldn't deny, it piqued his interest. "So where's our supply?"
Torek shrugged. "H6."
Cullen squinted. H6 was the planetary system with the highest density of Rucien colonies—now all wiped out or turned into slave camps. "H6?" Even with the push to Vijil along the K spiral, there were still plenty of Osuna stationed in H6. "If the Osuna find Vijil and the Emperor rides out to stake his claim, H6 will still remain a focal point of Osuna—"
"Okay, so what? They don't know about this planet, Kaimerus."
"How's that possible?" Cullen asked.
"Schaefer has lots of eyes within the Osuna navigation network," Jolnes said. "Having the right people in the right positions has allowed him to mask Kaimerus from the Osuna purview of habitable planets."
Cullen checked Torek's reaction, which held firm. "How confident are you that they don't know about this planet, Kaimerus?"
"Been safe for the last twelve years at least," Torek said. "No reports of even a whiff of the Osuna knowing about it."
"This opportunity is legit." Jolnes stood, looking up at Cullen as if he'd grown sour. "I can hire someone else with a p-drive to take me back to Setuk."
He glanced at Torek on his way out of the cockpit.
Cullen wanted to tell him Torek had nothing to do with whether the Talis chartered a red-eared pilot with a phony disguise or took another job. But Torek didn't hold his tongue—big surprise to Cullen.
"Hold on, now." Torek started off with Jolnes, meeting him where the two sides of the cockpit joined in the hull toward the ladder down. "The answer isn't no, but we need a minute. Step outside for a chill, and I'll come out and let you know our decision."
Jolnes shot a dark look at Cullen as he turned to descend the ladder. The metal squeaked under his weight. Jolnes snorted. "This ship needs the payday. Wouldn't want it to end up like the freighters outside."
And then he was out of sight.
Cullen cracked his neck and turned to face the viewport and dash screens showing the views from the exterior cameras.
Torek's footsteps closed slowly behind him. "You know, the kid has experience and is a good pilot, but he doesn't know why we were hired."
Cullen raised his eyebrows at that revelation as Torek walked up beside him. "Oh, we've been hired already? Did you spend my cut, too?"
"You know what I mean. Why we were chosen."
"Why were we chosen?" Cullen asked. Torek smiled in a way that eased Cullen, while also sparking curiosity. "What?"
"Because of you." Torek nodded at the dash screen view of Jolnes outside the ship, tapping on a thumbspread screen. "That kid has no idea." Torek looked Cullen in the eye, shedding the joker persona for a moment of seriousness. "I've never told anyone your secret."
Cullen creased his brows, wondering where this was going. "Glad to hear it. I've also never followed through with my threat of hiring a hit on you."
"Really?" Torek cocked his head and smiled in an invocation of what strange thought might ever consider such a tragic act. Torek wiped his face and relaxed his shoulders. "I mean it, Cul." Again. Stalker serious. It started to make Cullen worry. "But I found a clue...."
Torek paced to the left, running a hand through his short dark hair. "Maybe it's not related." He turned back to Cullen. "But if it is, it might explain, you know, why your dad saved you from the memory wipe."
Memories of Cullen's last day on Vijil flowed through in a blink. Unlike those who left the silver room believing they were born with clothes and able to walk, he'd escaped with his memories intact—a treasonous act even Star General Re could face execution for. His dad hadn't told him why he'd risked leaving his memories. The One will show you when it's time.
Is today that day?
"Torek? What clue?"
"One of your dad's rescue and research expeditions discovered that Kaimerus is home to an Ancient city, and has clues to unlocking the Cipher."
The Cipher, thought Cullen, unable to hear the word without thinking of his father's first love: the key to meeting the Ancients and achieving the Rucien destiny, to returning the universe to its intended glory. Back at home, digital copies of the scrolls and the Math of the Ancients were always on at least one screen nearby. Sending colonists to the stars in search of clues to the Cipher had morphed into POW missions when they discovered the Osuna were alive and well, and on the hunt for their home.
"Okay." Cullen's tone prodded Torek to go on.
"Man, I don't know exactly the steps, but somehow your dad's crew left clues that if someone answered riddles correctly, your ship's name would be the answer. That's what led Schaefer to ping us, except I got it because I manage the...."
"Right." Torek enjoyed being the communications portion of the duo, and Cullen was glad not to have to respond to pings from upset handlers.
"So I spoke to him first, but I wanted to vet him before telling you. And Jolnes, this stop, was kind of my last test. So far, it seems legit. Can't guarantee Setuk's
not a trap, just like this could've been, or, really, every one of the jobs we take."
Cullen trusted Torek's judgment, and knew they could both wake up with a knife to their throats. If the last call was Torek's, Cullen went to sleep at night all right with that. "It's chill, Torek. So why did my dad's clues lead the person with the right answers to find us?"
Torek took a deep breath, warming up with a smile that seemed on the verge of breaking the jokester. "Because you're going home. We are. Your dad's a bit... I mean, the timing, and someone able to break the riddle in your lifetime... Schaefer. He believes in the Ancients like the Rucien, well, you know, those who have faith. He believes like that, and thinks this is a sign that the Ancients will reveal their Cipher. He wants you and your memories to pull us back to Vijil, where what he knows of the Math, combined with your dad's research, should somehow conjure the Cipher and whatever the Rucien need to punch the Osuna in the throat for good."
Cullen's body nearly froze at the keywords so often spoken by his father: prophecy and destiny. So often those words had fallen to the floor with as little importance as specks of bread off his shirt. But as Torek spoke them, they contained the respect of a king's oracle.
Torek's sudden swipe at Cullen's arm jolted him out of his reverie. "What do you think? That's good, man! I mean, about the only chance the Rucien, or really any of us, have of punching those bastard Osuna in the throat is some kind of quirky Ancients prophecy. And if that has anything to do with us, with or without the weird Ancients, then so be it. I think it sounds like fun!"
Cullen didn't say anything immediately.
"Whadya think, Cul?"
"Fun... you think that sounds like fun. I know studying mythology isn't in your top ten, or hundred, things to do, but if that stuff's real... it drew a circle around an island—" Cullen traced a circle from Torek's waistline to his forehead and back down. "And boom! Gone. My people. Transported across the universe. Because why? We don't know. To learn to be better people? To wait for the return of something like us but not..." The glyphs spoke of some far-out powers and beings made to do things that no animals or beings he'd ever seen were capable of. "If all of that is true, and you want to go find it..." Cullen laughed. "Fun is not even close to what we'll be in store for. Some say it's all a lie to trick us into freeing the one who aims to destroy everything."