L.O.S.T. Trilogy Box Set

by R. S. Collins

  “Get up, Brenden.” She gestured with one hand. “Don’t sit there with your mouth hanging open. We have much to do.”

  It was unreal.

  As if I was home and my mother was lecturing me about trying new things and keeping my room clean. A part of me wanted to run to Mom and hug her, because I was so happy to see her. I wanted her to tell me that everything would be okay, that it was all just a nightmare.

  But I knew it was all too real.

  Except my mom couldn’t be Nire.

  I shook my head, thoughts rattling inside like marbles, and I grabbed the hilt of my sword. It scraped along the slithering floor as I dragged it to me. “No. My mother is not some monster named Nire. You’re just pretending to be my mom. Well, it’s not going to work because I’m going to kill you.”

  Mom snapped her lips shut, forming that same straight line, like whenever she had enough of my big mouth. “Heroism and self-sacrifice,” she said after a moment. “Well. You’re trying new things—finally. Considering the impossible. Just consider this, consider me—my power. Our power. Give it a moment to sink in.”

  I swallowed hard, chills rolling down my spine. “Jazz. Tell me this isn’t my mother.”

  Blood froze in my veins when Jazz didn’t reply, even in my head. I glanced down to see her lying on the floor, and my heart stopped. Was she okay? Did Nire do something to her?

  “I told you to get up, Brenden,” my mother—Nire—said, her voice tight with impatience.

  My body automatically responded to the mother voice, just like I was at home. But as I stood, I gripped my sword. Silver flashed along its length and glittered on my skin. Mom-Nire flinched, as if the glow bothered her eyes.

  Shadows skittered deeper into the darkest corners, making hissing and popping noises. My damp clothing felt sticky and heavy against my body.

  She lifted her head and held my gaze. I had grown so much the past couple of years that I was a good head taller than her, and she had to look up at me.

  Clenching my weapon’s handle with both hands, I gritted my teeth. “What did you do to Jazz, and where’s my mom?”

  Mom-Nire’s face softened, and she gave me the same smile that she always did when she caught me doing something good. “Search in your heart, my Brenny-boy. You know I’m your mother.”

  Brenny-boy. Mom hadn’t called me that for so long, I had almost forgotten about it. I had made her stop when I was in third grade because I was too old for a baby nickname. Even without her calling me Brenny-boy, in my heart I did know. The person standing in front of me was my mother, the woman who had raised me, kissed my scrapes when I was little, encouraged me and told me I could do anything I put my mind to doing.

  Expand your mind. Consider the impossible.

  The one person on Earth I belonged with, the one person I would have done anything for, before leaving on that trip to San Diego.

  But now I didn’t even know who she was.

  A lump crowded my throat and an ache lodged in my chest. No, God, please no. Don’t let this be happening.

  I forced myself to speak, still holding my sword at the ready. “I don’t understand.”

  She smiled. “This is all part of the plan, Brenny-boy.”

  “Don’t call me that again. Ever.” Anger sparked within me, growing until it blotted out everything else, and my skin and sword glowed even brighter. Shadows screeched from their corners. “Are you telling me that my whole life has been a lie?”

  Even as she flinched from my silver glow, her blue eyes flashed and she scowled. “I haven’t lied to you.”

  In that moment, I saw her resemblance to Alderon as clear as day. Why hadn’t I recognized it before? And my nightmares, the vision. I had sensed something familiar about the evil being, and now I knew why. That had to have been what Jazz had found inside me—that I was part oldeFolke. Not fully human.

  And that I was related to Nire.

  No wonder Jazz didn’t trust me anymore.

  Fury burned in my gut, and I gripped my sword tighter. “We’re way beyond you getting mad at me, Mom. You have a lot of explaining to do.”

  Her face turned a darker shade of red than I’d ever seen it get when she was pissed with me.

  She opened her mouth as if to reprimand me again, then snapped it shut. As she smoothed the folds of her robe, I could tell she was trying to get a grip on herself.

  “I am your mother, and you will treat me with respect.” Mom-Nire’s hands twitched at her sides, and purple sparks dripped from her fingertips like in my dream of Nire, and in the vision. “I have raised you well and kindly, and I owe you no explanations. However, in order to satisfy your curiosity, so that we may proceed, I will tell you what is necessary.”

  I wanted to check on Jazz, but I was afraid to let my guard down. I kept my eyes trained on Mom-Nire. “First tell me where Dad and Todd are.”

  “At this time they are safe, in the dungeon.” She gestured toward a doorway on the far side of the room, guarded by countless Shadows. “Your father proved to be so much useless baggage, and Todd has not yet grown into his own powers. He is of no use to us at this time.”

  No.

  No, no, no!

  Light blasted out of my arms, my hands, even from the tip of the sword. A few shadows fell forward, shrieking as they dissolved.

  Nire seemed unaffected. She had that mom-knows-all look on her face as she insulted my dad, and my brain felt like it was twisting in on itself

  Dad was supposed to be the bad guy, not Mom. Everything was so screwed up, I didn’t know what to think. My arms were aching from holding the sword. I lowered it to let the blood flow, but kept my stance ready for the slightest movement by Mom-Nire or the Shadows that were inching closer and closer.

  I couldn’t believe it. I was worried about protecting myself from my mother.

  “What about Jazz’s mother and Rol?” I asked as I tried to work it all out in my mind. “Are they in that dungeon and are they going to be okay?”

  “To answer your question, yes, at this time Jasmina’s mother and training master are in the dungeon.” Mom-Nire narrowed her eyes. “But that’s irrelevant. I have allowed them to live only to lure the Queen of the Witches here, to me. Now that she has arrived, they are of no further consequence. They must be eradicated.”

  Allowed them to live? Eradicated? I blinked, trying to absorb what she was saying. “You—you really kill people?”

  She returned my stare, her face as calm as if we were discussing my day at school and the C I got on my term paper. “I do whatever is necessary to rid civilization of this blight. Of witches who don’t know their own power and others who are nothing more than warts on the face of Earth.”

  It was too much. “You’re a murderer.”

  “Of course not.” Mom-Nire sniffed. “I am merely attempting to bring this world to what it once was, and exterminate all that is unclean and unsuitable.”

  “Oh, God.” I dragged my free hand over my face, my mind and soul wanting to refuse that last bit of information. “You really are a freakin’ Hitler. Like some crazy kind of witch-Nazi.”

  “I am not a Nazi.” Mom-Nire’s face turned almost as purple as her robe. Her purple aura flared brighter, and her hands shook and twitched at her sides. “And I am certainly not a witch. I am the most ancient of the oldeFolke. I have seen Earth change over the centuries from the peace and quiet wisdom of my people, from the total joining we shared with the universe, to the weak magic and war practiced by this…this filth.” Her face twisted into a scowl as she pointed to Jazz’s still form.

  Fire burned in my head. “Don’t talk about Jazz that way.” Power surged through my arms, chasing away the ache of holding my weapon for so long. I shifted my sword and silver pulsed from my arms and along the blade. Shadows skittered away again.

  And again, Mom-Nire flinched from the silver glow.

  Was it hurting her somehow?

  For a moment, she said nothing, just studied me. Then she gave me that mom
-smile. “Perhaps you will have a better understanding of your purpose if I explain it to you. We are wasting valuable time.”

  My purpose? What was she talking about?

  She sighed and walked closer, so that she was only a few feet away. “I took up with your father, a human, in order to breed new life into the oldeFolke. To bring them back to what they once were, and save this pitiful planet. I selected him for a variety of reasons.”

  “You…bred me?” I could hardly speak. “Like you’d breed dogs or gerbils or something?”

  The corner of her mouth turned up. “In a manner of speaking. But I always knew you were extraordinary. I cultivated your strength through athletics and education.”

  My whole life had been a lie. “That’s why you got me started in Little League and stood by me. That’s why you were always there. To see to my training. Not because you cared.”

  “Of course I care, Brenden.” Her look was almost pleading, as if she wanted me to understand what she had done. “Out of my many, many sons, I knew you would finally be the one. And your father pushed you so hard because he sensed your destiny was one of greatness. How great, he had no idea.”

  My body went numb, and I could barely feel the sword in my hands.

  Many sons—I had many brothers?

  Alderon…

  Anger flared through me. I sliced my sword through the air and silver sparks shot at the closest Shadow. It screamed and evaporated into nothingness.

  I gritted my teeth. “Dad knew about all this?”

  Mom-Nire’s jaw tensed. “Not until now. He believed your talents to be in baseball, of all things, hoping for scholarships, I imagine. As if those pitiful dreams were enough for my son, the Shadowalker.”

  “What are you talking about?” My rage was so great that more silver shot from my sword, extinguishing another Shadow.

  She kept her hands down, but I saw her fingers twitch. “You are the one with enough power to rule at my side, to help cleanse the world and restore it to what it was millennia ago.”

  Mom-Nire smiled, looking as pretty as I remembered ever seeing her.

  I flexed my hands on my sword grip as I stared, my jaw nearly hanging to the squirmy floor. She was insane. My mom had lost her mind.

  Jazz stirred near my feet, and I heard her low moan. I needed to help her—but how? And then I remembered what she had said earlier. If I stopped Nire, Jazz wouldn’t be trapped in the Shadows.

  Oh, God.

  I almost dropped my sword as the reality of my choice punched me in the gut. Kill my own mother, or let Jazz be taken by the Shadows, where she would be one of those tortured souls for eternity.

  Mom-Nire took a step closer. “You brought me the means to increase my own powers so that we shall be rid of the witches once and for all. Thank you, Bren.”

  Bren. Jazz’s voice whispered, faint in my mind. I glanced at her and saw her eyelids flutter. Free the Path of Shadows. And don’t let Nire touch you—or me.

  “For too long, Jasmina has annoyed me,” Mom-Nire went on, and my gaze snapped back to her. “She is the most powerful witch queen of all time, and her energy will now be mine. Step aside. I will join with her now and have done with this.”

  My thoughts had been skittering all over the place, my focus nonexistent. But the second Mom-Nire implied she was going to mess with Jazz, I blocked out everything but the choice I had to make at that moment.

  I raised my sword and stepped in front of Jazz. “Don’t you touch her.” My blade and my skin glowed such a brilliant silver that Mom-Nire recoiled, flinching from the light. “I love Jazz, and you’re not going to hurt her.”

  “You would stand against me, your mother?” she asked, her voice—my mom’s voice—filled with pain, as if I had betrayed her.

  My gut twisted. No. She had betrayed me.

  But could I kill my own mother?

  How could anyone be forced to make that choice?

  “Don’t come near Jazz or me,” I said, grasping for straws and time. I had to make a decision, had to figure out what to do next. What kind of choice did I have? I loved Jazz. I loved my mom. Jazz represented the good in the world. And I had just learned that my mom was a mass murderer.

  My mind raced, searching for a solution. A class discussion on Adolf Hitler popped into my mind. Our history teacher had asked us one major question: If we knew what Hitler was going to do, but had the chance to kill him before he brutally exterminated all those people, would we do it? Would we kill him?

  Most of the class, including me, said yes.

  Yet, here I faced the same question, only it applied to my mother and not some dictator from a history book. My mom, who was really an ancient being who had killed thousands of witches and humans, and planned to kill more.

  And planned to have me help her do it.

  Mom-Nire’s robes flared around her form as she stepped closer and held out her hand. “Come, Brenden. It is time to help me, as you have now fully come into your powers. When I take Jasmina’s energy, you and I together will be invincible.”

  I narrowed my gaze. My skin pulsed silver, and Mom-Nire stopped moving toward me. Purple sparks continued to drip from her fingertips, as if she was prepared to battle me.

  “Do you have any idea how powerful you can be?” She tilted her head, and it reminded me of all the times she told me I could be the best player on my baseball team as long as I believed in myself. And expanded my mind. And considered the impossible. “The magic within you often skips generation after generation after generation. You are the first in countless centuries to have powers that rival my own. At my side, you will be revered and respected, and all will bow down to you.”

  This time I stepped toward Mom-Nire. “You can’t go on like this, killing innocent people. You’ve got to change.”

  “I think not.” She raised one hand, the purple sparks dripping from her fingernails like glittering amethysts. “Move out of my way so that I may claim what is now mine.”

  “No.” I gripped my sword tighter, and the silver glow around me pulsed and grew stronger. Shadows hissed and slunk farther back into the darkness. “I know there’s good in you. I love you, Mom. Don’t do this.”

  But Mom-Nire’s attention fixed on something behind me. I followed her gaze and saw Jazz trying to sit up.

  When I looked back to Mom-Nire, she held out her palm. Purple light shot from her fingertips and enveloped Jazz in a shining purple bubble. In the next second the purple light started to turn gold. The gold streamed from Jazz’s body—

  Mom-Nire was stealing Jazz’s energy.

  “No!” I swung my sword at the rope of purplish-gold energy linking the two people I loved.

  Sparks exploded as my weapon severed the stream of light.

  Shock, like electricity, slammed through my body. I stumbled back, almost tripping over Jazz.

  Jazz cried out in my mind. Mom-Nire screamed. My body throbbed with adrenaline. Yet, I had never felt so clearheaded, and so highly focused as I did at that moment.

  I crouched in front of Jazz, shielding her body with my own. “If you want to murder Jazz, you’re going to have to kill me first, Mom.”

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The jolt from Bren breaking Nire’s connection with me had shocked me back to my senses. For the moment.

  What I had to do was painfully clear, but my strength was nearly gone. I could no longer broadcast a thought, and I could scarcely lift my good arm toward the taut muscles along Bren’s back as he crouched before me. But I had to. I had to touch him. To join with him. The lives of my people depended on it.

  His shoulders were squared, and his sword was drawn. Shadows hurled themselves at him, two at a time, three at a time. From his crouched position, still protecting me, he cleaved the Shadows in two without seeming to think about his actions.

  “Give up,” his mother commanded in a cold, detached voice. “You cannot leave this place alive without my consent.”

  Bren said no
thing.

  The two seemed locked into a battle of wills.

  An endless stream of Shadows bled out of the wall, surrounding Bren. The silvery glow from his skin increased, driving them back a few paces. He lowered his sword and held it, point down, in front of him, steadying himself against the false spell-floor as Nire glared at him.

  “Do not be a fool,” she growled, reverting to oldeWords. For a moment, I could see the age on Nire’s face, and the pain. The endless pain of a creature left behind by time, and by everyone it had ever known. It must be horrid to live forever, or long enough for it to seem like forever.

  Then, the look on Nire’s face shifted away like blown sand, replaced by the madness I had expected to find when I met the Shadowmaster.

  Bren appeared to understand his mother’s ancient speech, because he stiffened. His muscles flexed, and I could tell he would do whatever he could to save me. He was ready to protect me from his mother, even if it meant his own death.

  No human, or half-human—no being of any sort—should be forced into such a position.

  My fingers twitched with the effort of inching toward him. If I could reach him, I could end his torment, and my own, and perhaps Nire’s as well.

  For the Shadowmaster was in torment. No amount of insane rage could mask the tortured gleam in her blue eyes.

  Nire’s world had moved on without her, rejected her. It killed everything she loved until she could love nothing beyond her fantasy of restoring the past. Though I couldn’t agree with her methods, I understood what she wanted—and why—at a level so deep it made my heart cry.

  I ached for her, and for Bren.

  “Get out of my way, Brenden.” Nire’s words were a snarl wrapped in growls.

  “I’m not moving.” Bren’s voice was deadly quiet. There was no hint of his usual giddiness or energy. Only a flat power. The fine silver edge had enveloped his skin now, somehow different than before. It hummed around the Shadowalker like a shield.