The Golden Symbol (Kilenya Series Book 6)

by Andrea Pearson

  Everyone gasped at that, and Jacob couldn’t stop smiling. Akeno was going to rock! He was so awesome.

  “How will that be possible, son?” Kenji asked.

  Poor Akeno—even his parents doubted his abilities. Of course, they didn’t know what he’d been studying. Jacob was the only one who’d gotten close, and even he didn’t know everything Akeno and Onyev had practiced.

  “It will be—Onyev has taught me many tricks.”

  “Very well,” Dad said. “Jacob, you and Akeno will be partnered for the first part of the war. After that, we—”

  Akeno raised his hand. “We’ll need someone else with us—someone who can protect Jacob and me while we’re focusing on other areas.” He rushed on when Gallus opened his mouth. “I’ll spend most of my time with my hand on the tree, seeing what the trees are seeing. I won’t be able to watch my surroundings. And neither will Jacob, since he’ll be Time-Seeing a lot. We’ll need someone who can protect us, and I’ll need someone who can give me Kaede Sap to drink to help replenish my strength. What I’m going to do is very difficult and dangerous.”

  Dad didn’t respond for a moment—he tapped his cheek, thinking. “If you’re positive you’ll be able to take out that many people, Gallus and I will guard you. Matt will keep track of your Kaede Sap supplies.”

  Matt cocked his head. “Didn’t you all run out of that stuff?” he asked Akeno.

  Akeno nodded. “What I’ve got is only meant to keep me going—give me energy and strength. The trees aren’t old enough to withstand a large harvest. None of them will produce the amounts of Kaede Sap needed to heal wounds for several years.” He looked at Dad. “And that’s all I needed to talk about.”

  “We’ll do our best to make sure you’re safe.” Dad took a deep breath, then turned to the group. “Some of the things Fubble the Wurby found in Gratitude City will be beneficial. I’ve assigned Coren to go through it as soon as the meeting is over and hand it out to people who would be able to use the equipment, weapons, and armor.”

  “Speaking of the Wurbies,” Jacob said, “what are they going to be doing?”

  “A large section—those who’ve been trained for battle—will be focusing on the Dusts,” Dad said. “Unfortunately, the rest won’t be able to defend themselves in open battle. Fubble informed me earlier that they’ll be sneaking away soon and heading to the forests near Sonda Lake. They plan to keep an eye on the Molg caves that didn’t get sealed and do what they can to keep more Molgs from joining Keitus’s cause. Those who survive the battle will join them, and they plan to live there from now on.”

  Dad then turned to Azuriah. “I apologize for the delay. What did you want to discuss?”

  Azuriah’s face twitched. It was obvious he was trying to control his frustration. “None of these people need to know it.”

  Pambri put her hand on his arm. “They all have the right to know what we’ve decided.”

  Azuriah didn’t look at her. His face twitched once more, then he visibly relaxed and turned to Dad. “We’ve decided not to fight in the war.”

  The room fell silent. Jacob didn’t have to look to know that everyone was as shocked as he was. What was Azuriah talking about? Why would he desert at the last minute, when he’d been so supportive? How did he expect them to win without his help? Didn’t he realize the Lorkon were terrified of Shiengols for a reason, that they’d be what turned the war this time?

  “I see,” Dad said after a long silence. He swallowed, and Jacob was grateful no one could see Dad’s emotions. He was devastated by this news. “Will any of the other Shiengols come to assist?”

  Azuriah shook his head. “Don’t count on them—they believe you are waging a pointless and losing war. And you didn’t need to ask, as you know. In fact, you—”

  Pambri squeezed his arm, scowling up at him. She turned to Dad. “We have a specific reason for not fighting. It’s not because we want to withdraw our support, but because we want to give more of it. This decision will help your son immensely.”

  Dad didn’t meet Pambri’s eyes, but stared at the wall, one hand fisted by his side. He clenched his jaw.

  Pambri put her hand on Jacob’s arm, looking him in the eye. It only took him a moment to see her eyes through their brilliant shine, but when he did, he saw that they brimmed with tears. She was really struggling. Had their decision been a difficult one?

  “You remember how I told you a Shiengol can take power from other living things . . . including Shiengols?”

  Jacob glanced away and licked his lips. He could see where she was going with this. It wasn’t okay with him. “Yes, but—”

  She gripped his arm tighter, forcing him to look back. “You remember it’s done by drawing their face symbols yourself?”

  “Yes, but I won’t let you guys do this. We need you more.”

  She half smiled. “It isn’t your decision to make, Jacob.” She straightened, turning to Dad. “We’ve decided to allow Jacob to borrow our powers.” She stared at Dad and Mom. “He is far more important than we are. If he dies, no one will defeat the Lorkon. Only he can administer the antidote, since they’ll most likely try to touch whoever is giving it.” She looked back at Jacob. “With my power, Azuriah’s, and our daughter’s, all of your Shiengol abilities will be strengthened. You’ll be tapping into ours, thereby tripling yours.”

  Jacob shook his head. “But it’ll make you guys weak and . . . and can’t it kill you?”

  “No, Jacob, it can’t,” Azuriah said. “We’ll be crippled, since we’ve come to rely on our abilities so much, but we won’t die.”

  Jacob stared at his feet. “I don’t like it.” Not only was he uncomfortable with stealing—borrowing—their powers, but he hated the pressure it put on him. Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t it have been Matt or . . . or someone else who’d inherited all these things?

  “Nevertheless, it is what shall be done.” Azuriah took a deep breath. “We’ll have Jacob come to the fortress when the Lorkon are a couple of hours away. It will only take him a few minutes.”

  Jacob bit his lips, still shaking his head. “Azuriah—”

  “There will be no further discussion!” Azuriah shouted. “You will do this, Jacob.” His voice caught. “And you will win.”

  The Shiengol shrugged off his wife’s arm and stormed from the room. Pambri sent an apologetic smile to the others, then followed him.

  Jacob stumbled to the couch, putting his head in his hands. He didn’t need to look to know that everyone was watching him, waiting to see how he’d react. His eyes stung. Must not cry. Must not embarrass himself. He took a deep breath, then looked at Dad. “I’m sorry—if I’d known . . . I would’ve talked to him and convinced him not to do it.”

  Dad grimaced. “I know, son.” He took a shaky breath. “Azuriah is right on one count. You could definitely use more help.”

  Matt laughed, startling everyone. “See, Jacob? Even Dad knows you’re a weakling.”

  Dad held up his hands, protesting. “That’s not what I meant.” But no one listened—the depressing mood had been broken and everyone was laughing.

  Jacob jumped from the couch and acted like he was about to tackle Matt. “Whatever. You’d totally go down in a real fight.”

  It felt good to mess around, and Jacob was grateful the attention wasn’t on him anymore. But he couldn’t erase the sick feeling in his heart when he thought of what Azuriah, Pambri, and Britt had decided to do—the amount of trust they were placing in him. The pressure to perform well.

  He and Matt punched each other’s shoulders, chuckling, but Jacob didn’t feel the laughter reach his heart.

  Chapter Seventeen: Het and the Fish

  Eachan and Sanso crept toward the castle, doing their best to stay out of sight. The Lorkon had returned—they’d been back for about a day now—and Eachan knew they’d be suspicious if they saw him and Sanso hanging around the castle.

  He couldn’t stop touching the pocket where he’d hidden the squirt gu
n. Would it leak? Had it already? He looked behind them, but nothing was crashing toward them. Nothing would, so long as he continued to be careful.

  “Where shall we hide?” Sanso asked, his dark eyes sparkling. His eyes had sparkled a lot lately. It was different, but a nice change.

  “I’m not sure,” Eachan said.

  He’d returned from the Fire Pulser world elated, calm. Eachan had never seen him this way before, and all attempts to find out what had happened were brushed aside. Sanso only said that things would be better for him after the Lorkon were destroyed.

  Eachan stroked his mustache. “Perhaps in the throne room?”

  Sanso scoffed. “Not unless you plan to walk in while the Lorkon watch. No, we should hide near the entrance so we can make sure they’re really leaving.”

  Eachan glanced back at the little creature following them. “What of your Dust?” It hadn’t left Sanso since he came back.

  “I’ll have him wait in the forest.” Sanso turned and beckoned the creature forward. He got on one knee and spoke to the Dust, pointing at the trees.

  The Dust nodded, though Eachan could tell the thing didn’t want to do it. As soon as it had scurried away, Eachan and Sanso entered the castle and stuffed themselves into a wardrobe near the entrance, keeping the door open a crack.

  “What if the Lorkon don’t leave soon?” Eachan asked.

  Sanso shrugged. “Then we wait for a long time. Possibly forever. We could make this our new home.”

  Eachan rolled his eyes. The Ember God was probably grinning. He had such a dumb sense of humor.

  “They will leave today,” Sanso said. “That’s what the Molg said.”

  “Well, hopefully it won’t take much longer.” Despite the medication from Aloren, Eachan’s joints were already complaining from the long walk. And standing there cramped, shoved against a bunch of smelly coats, wasn’t comfortable.

  They hadn’t waited long before Eachan started nodding off. He couldn’t help it—he was an old man. Old enough, anyway.

  “Stop that,” Sanso said, bumping Eachan’s shoulder. “Or I’ll make things really warm in here.”

  That woke Eachan up—he knew Sanso wouldn’t joke, not about that.

  Several minutes later, voices echoed down the hall. Footsteps pounded on the stone and after a moment, Keitus strode past, followed by a few Molgs, some Dusts, and the other three Lorkon.

  Eachan stopped Sanso from jumping out of the wardrobe right away. “We can’t let them see us,” he whispered. “Not yet.”

  Sanso growled, but waited until the Lorkon had gone completely out of view.

  Eachan opened the door, pulled out the squirt gun, and handed it to Sanso. “Hide this and yourself, then spray him when he turns away again.”

  “He who?”

  Eachan ignored him and called to the last Lorkon. “Het?” He bit his lip, hoping he’d gotten the right name. He always had a hard time telling the Lorkon apart—they looked so very similar.

  But the Lorkon stopped and whirled. “What?” he barked.

  “What am I to do while you’re away?” He caught up with the Lorkon and peered down the hall, hoping to look curious. “Where are you heading?”

  “To destroy that stupid man and his family.” Het glared at Eachan. “And I don’t care what you do—leave the city, if that is your wish. I’m sure Keitus no longer has need for you.”

  Eachan nodded. “Very well.” He continued, speaking quickly before the Lorkon could storm off. They needed more distance between him and his father! “What happened to all the villagers? I don’t have anyone to work with anymore.”

  Het sneered. “That never stopped you before, did it?” He glowered at Eachan. “And Keitus assumed you freed the maggots, just like you freed yourself.”

  Eachan’s mouth popped open, pretense aside. “How—how did you know?”

  “The room stank of betrayal, Eachan. We figured it out a long time ago.”

  “Then why didn’t you do anything?”

  Het folded his arms. “Do you really think you’re that important? You humans are replaceable.”

  “Every human except Jacob.”

  Het winced, then straightened to his full height, fists trembling at his sides. “Don’t ever—ever—mention his name to me again.”

  Eachan nodded and stepped back, looking at the ground. “Sorry. I won’t.” Could it be that not all of the Lorkon wanted Jacob as badly as Keitus did? That was obviously the case. Surely King Dmitri and his followers could use this to their advantage. The Lorkon weren’t united. But how closely would they follow Keitus’s orders?

  Not wanting to cause further problems, Eachan stepped to the side of the hallway and watched as Het stormed off. He held his breath, waiting for Sanso to do his part.

  A stream of water shot past Eachan, hitting Het on the back of the neck right as he passed under the doorway. The Lorkon shivered and stared up at the doorframe, wiping his neck. He muttered something, then continued onward.

  Eachan grinned. Sanso had timed it perfectly—Het probably thought he’d been the target of a bird relieving itself. Wonderful!

  Sanso pocketed the squirt gun, stepping to Eachan’s side. “Now what?”

  “We follow. Quietly.”

  A wicked grin crossed Sanso’s face. “Fantastic.” He rubbed his hands together, then dashed down the hall, stepping behind the door and peering out. “It’s clear. Het is far behind Keitus—perhaps by a hundred yards—and they’re all heading toward Maivoryl City.”

  Eachan looked out the door. “Are you sure there aren’t any Sindons?”

  Sanso rolled his eyes. “Of course. I moved them into the city—the Lorkon will be forced to travel on foot. They won’t take the time to search for them.”

  The two men followed the Lorkon through the forest. Eachan jumped at every noise, wondering when the Eetu fish would come. Too much time had passed. Had the water gone bad? Had they wasted all their hard work?

  Eachan wasn’t surprised when Het turned and walked along the side of the great stone waterfall. For quite some time, Eachan had wondered how the Lorkon got out of Maivoryl City and gained access to the rest of Gevkan. Then he found a new, small trail that paralleled the wall. It stopped abruptly at the wall—seeming to disappear under it, or even possibly through, but without a passageway visible. It had taken Eachan an hour of observation to figure out that the stone where the new trail stopped was an illusion—there was a tunnel there. He’d never been able to get into it, though.

  They’d almost reached that tunnel when something rustled in the trees behind him. He and Sanso met eyes, then jumped behind the large boulders that dotted the trail. Eachan had been wondering which direction the fish would come from—he’d figured it would come up out of the lake and through the tunnel, but perhaps the fish didn’t have access to it either. It must have used the tunnel he and the villagers had dug a long time ago.

  The rustling sound increased, and Het stopped and turned. His father and the rest of the party were probably already on the other side of the wall, and Eachan breathed a sigh of relief—this would be just the Eetu and Het. The Eetu might have a chance against one Lorkon, but four? Impossible.

  Het dismissed the sound and was turning back to the tunnel when suddenly, the Eetu fish burst from the forest and into the small clearing. Eachan and Sanso grinned at each other.

  The Eetu didn’t waste any time. It lunged for Het, knocking him to the ground, and proceeded to try to chew off the Lorkon’s arm.

  Eachan wasn’t surprised at Het’s first reaction. “Keitus!” Het called. “Help! Someone—” Then his voice grew shrill. “Father!”

  When Het realized no one was coming, he growled in anger and threw the massive fish aside. Eachan’s mouth popped open—he’d known the Lorkon were strong, but strong enough to pick up and throw a twelve-foot fish?

  Het tried to run into the tunnel, but the Eetu grabbed him and dragged him back out.

  Eachan frowned. Why hadn’t that fi
rst attack completely dismembered the Lorkon? Then it dawned on him—the Lorkon weren’t human. Their bodies were not frail. He grinned. This was going to be a good fight.

  Het scrambled to his feet, holding the Eetu fish back with gloved hands, staring at its snapping jaws just inches from his face. “How did you get here? Why are you chasing me?” Then he snarled, his glare turning even more dark. “Eachan.”

  Eachan shrank behind the boulder, hiding his face. He’d hoped Het wouldn’t figure out his involvement. Of course the Lorkon would—he wasn’t stupid.

  Sanso elbowed him. “Come on. He can’t see you. You’re going to miss the fight.”

  Eachan nodded and peered over the boulder again.

  The Eetu fish shrieked, twisting out of Het’s grasp. It slammed onto the ground, then whirled, whipping Het with its long tail.

  The Lorkon flipped through the air, skidding to a stop near the wall. He ripped off his gloves. Before the Eetu had turned all the way, Het pounced on the fish, hugging it. He touched the scales with his hands.

  Eachan’s eyes widened when the scales near Het’s touch turned from silver to red. The redness spread. Scales fell off. The Eetu screamed and Het laughed, not releasing the fish.

  Eachan couldn’t believe it. Was nothing more powerful than a Lorkon?

  But then, with a massive shudder, the Eetu’s body seemed to pull in strength again—probably from its magic source, whatever that was. The blue-green chased the red away, pushing it back to Het’s hands. He dropped the fish like it had burned him and backed away.

  The Eetu took advantage of Het’s hesitation. It lunged for the Lorkon, grabbed him by his left arm, and swung him to the ground not far from where Eachan and Sanso were hiding. They ducked.

  Had they been seen? Eachan didn’t know if it even mattered.

  He heard a scream and risked a glance over the rock. The fish had clamped its mouth on Het’s head. Het struggled, kicking, thrashing. He finally got enough leverage and ripped the Eetu off himself and threw it aside.