Song of the Worlds Boxed Set

by Brandon Barr

  “Shut up,” said Rueik, and pointed to Pike. “That one there. His head’s a mess, but keep him alive.”

  Both men nodded.

  “Now get them on the bikes and get back to the ship.”

  Pike stood, holding his head in his hands. “Please,” he mumbled. “I don’t want to feel this way. I want to go back to how I was.”

  “You,” said Rueik. “Give me your gun.”

  The short mercenary handed it over.

  Rueik turned the dial up.

  Pike backed away, still holding his head. “Please,” he whimpered. “Please.”

  Rueik pressed the trigger. Bolts forked into Pike’s chest and he screamed, body convulsing as he flopped to the ground.

  “Go now!” shouted Rueik over Pike’s screaming. He released the trigger and the crackling energy bolts died. “Get to the Guardian Tower—blast it to the ground. I don’t want anyone left alive.”

  CHAPTER 36

  AVEN

  The riders sped over the grass field that Aven and Daeymara had just run across at startling speed. Their engines pitched high like horses whinnying in terror. Muffled shouts sounded from the riders as they drew closer.

  Up on the road they’d left moments ago, Aven saw the soldiers who had been sent to protect them begin to scatter.. Something flashed like lightening from one of the oncoming riders. The body of a soldier contorted, caught in an intense strand of searing light.

  The luminous bolt disappeared, and the soldiers body collapsed to the ground.

  Aven gripped the glass jar under his shirt. Part of him wanted the winged creature inside to work for him, somehow, as it did for Winter. But he doubted it would. Winter was the chosen one.

  The other half of him wanted to throw the butterfly jar at one of the rider’s heads.

  “We have to get one of their guns,” Daeymara whispered.

  His VOKK registered the word, gun, and he instantly knew what it was. What it could do.

  Aven shivered.

  “Hold me. Like you’re trying to protect me.”

  Aven did as Daeymara said, and put his arms around her. One of her hands gripped his back, but the other held something. He felt the contour of a knife. The engines of their small, wheeled vehicles went silent, and both riders dismounted. They held sleek metallic objects in their hands, and Aven knew exactly what they were.

  He remembered Daeymara’s earlier warning, Don’t let them take you alive.

  “Why not just surrender?” whispered Aven, hoping she might change her answer.

  “We might become like Pike, or worse,” said Daeymara. “They’ll alter us through our VOKK. We wouldn’t be ourselves anymore. We might be forced to do things we’d rather die than do. Trust me.”

  Aven embraced Daeymara tighter, squeezing her close. The thought of wresting weapons away from the two approaching mercenaries seemed suicidal. He remembered his fight with Rozmin and his longing to protect Harvest. He felt that same way now, his heart was pounding so hard he was certain Daeymara could feel it in her chest pressed tightly against his. He felt incapable of protecting Daeymara. Or himself.

  Death had never felt so near.

  The two mercenaries stepped slowly closer, weapons raised. One of the men was taller, with hair like spear points down the center of his head, his clenched jaw was faintly outlined in the dying glow of dusk. Dark shadows hid his eyes, which were couched behind the weapon held to his cheek.

  The other mercenary shouted, “Step away from each other. Put your hands out.”

  Daeymara squeezed Aven’s shoulder, then pushed away, raising her hands in the air.

  Aven did the same. He noticed the faint grey shadow of the knife pinched between two of Daeymara’s fingers. It hung down the back of her hand like a retracted cat’s claw.

  “You,” one of them shouted at Aven. “Hands on your head.”

  He obeyed.

  The mercenary with the spiked hair fastened his weapon to a holder on his suit and went toward Daeymara. His long arm sprang out and grabbed her by the wrist. With his other hand he brought up a chain with loops, but as he went to secure it to her wrist, she flung her knife hand down on his shoulder.

  Something in his suit blocked it from penetrating. He shoved her and she fell backward into the grass.

  Aven reached for the man’s weapon, but the mercenary seemed to have anticipated his move. An arm swung across Aven’s jaw, knocking him back on his heels.

  “Move and I’ll shoot!” shouted the other mercenary.

  Aven saw Daeymara spring up, and dart toward the back of the tall mercenary coming toward him.

  Daeymara’s face lit for a brief moment, and then crackling streams of blue light surged into her from the weapon of the shorter mercenary standing at a distance. Daeymara screamed and screamed, her body flailing grotesquely as she lurched over, into the grass.

  Daeymara’s unrelenting cries devoured Aven. He rushed forward, grabbing the glass jar from under his shirt and charged the spike-haired mercenary in front of him blocking the path to Daeymara. The mercenary stumbled back at Aven’s impact, the jar shattering against the side of the man’s face, but the mercenary did not fall. Aven twisted to get past him, the briefest thought flashed in his mind that he likely had just killed Winter’s gift. But the thought ended as fast as it had come. He knew instinctively what he must do: end Daeymara’s cries—sprint and jump onto her flailing body, blocking the path of the blue fire wracking through her.

  Aven neared her and focused on the sizzling stream of blue light stretching from the weapon to Daeymara. He readied himself to spring on top of her body when two arms wrapped themselves around his legs, tackling him from behind. Aven hit the ground, his arms stretched out, as if he might spare Daeymara some of the pain if only he could touch her. But his fingers were an arms length away.

  Something hard cracked the back of Aven’s head, then a knee dug into his back. The mercenary pressed Aven’s face into the ground.

  Daeymara’s cries demanded he try and heave the man off his back. He pushed with his arms, lifting his chest off the ground, but another blow to the back of his head knocked him back down.

  “You’re going to kill her!” shouted the mercenary on his back. “They want them alive!”

  Aven struggled to remain conscious, slipping in and out of darkness. The second blow to the head left him disoriented. But she was dying there, the sound of her horrible suffering slipping away as her voice faded.

  His fingers dug feebly into the grass.

  Daeymara’s silence brought the crackle of the blue lightning to an end. She lay still upon the ground, the sudden darkness hiding the horror of what had been done to her.

  “Damn,” said the mercenary on his back. “I think you killed her.”

  The mercenary with the gun came up beside Daeymara and pushed his boot against her side. “Maybe. If so, she deserved it. Tried to stab you.”

  As the second mercenary moved toward him, Aven could think of only Daeymara. Her agonizing screams. His soul felt sick. He had failed her.

  He wanted to die.

  Clasps came around his wrists, locking his arms in place.

  “Get up!” said one of them.

  A seething fury surged through Aven’s veins at the mercenary’s command. Slowly, he rose to his feet. The man reached to grab his chains.

  Aven swung his hands like a club at the man.

  The mercenary ducked, and threw a fist, but Aven avoided him.

  A jolt slammed him from behind, as the second mercenary tackled him to the ground.

  Aven struggled, but his clasped wrists were trapped beneath him. Before long, they had his feet and arms bound in rope. They lifted his body and placed him face down on a vehicle, strapping him tight against a metal frame.

  The engine roared to life, and the vehicle lurched toward the ominous mass blackening the starry horizon. Intermixed with the whine of the engine, Aven could hear screaming. But it was only a memory.

  Daeymara�
�s cries, ringing in his ear.

  _____

  ARENTISS

  Arentiss peered over a small berm. Her feet stood in a foot of water used for irrigation. Hark crouched ahead, watching the mercenaries searching for them on foot.

  Her eyes were on Aven. Far in the distance, she watched as two mercenaries tied him. He was such a caring person; his psychological state was easily read by the sag of his shoulders. He had wanted to intervene and save Daeymara, and now experienced sorrow and remorse at his failing.

  Arentiss was pleased. Not that Daeymara was dead or maimed, but that Aven was alive. If he had reached Daeymara, he would have received the same devastating electrocution. Aven was…such an empathetic human. To the point of dying for another who was already as good as dead. She watched as the two riders secured him to the back of their vehicle.

  “Lie low,” said Hark in a whisper. “They’re coming this way.” He had a sizable rock in his hand that he’d found in the irrigation canal.

  Arentiss slid her head down, but stopped short of losing sight of Aven. The light was gone now but the vehicle lights illuminated Aven’s form. She could barely make out the two mercenaries working now on Daeymara’s body, securing her to one of their riders.

  A static sound came from close by. Arentiss remained motionless. Someone was shouting in a voice that crackled. It was coming from one of the mercenaries. A communicator of some antiquated variety.

  “Back to the ship!” shouted a male voice in a sputter of static. “There’s a ship approaching on our radar.”

  Arentiss peered over the berm again. The two mercenaries were running to their riders. So, too, were the mercenaries that had captured Aven.

  The only ship they could have detected was The Relic, the Guardians’ starship. Arentiss knew the mercenaries’ vessel was likely fully equipped with weaponry, both high and low tech. It was clearly a scavenger craft.

  The VOKKs would make their employer a fortune.

  A roar shook the ground. Light flared in the sky, brightening the entire valley as charges struck the mercenary vessel from directly overhead. The flare of explosives plumed into the air as the merc’s energy shields repelled most of the blast.

  It was over before she realized it. The last rider disappeared up a ramp into the ship, and then the craft was airborne, the continuous volley of explosives pounding its hull was unrelenting.

  The mercenary ship shot off in a deafening roar, then was gone from sight, pursued by their own Guardian starship.

  Arentiss and Hark stood in the sudden silence.

  “Just like our training vids,” said Hark. “Never dreamed it could happen.” He paused, pulling in a deep breath. “Did you count how many they took? I saw two. Aven and Daeymara.”

  “I counted four,” said Arentiss. “Yours, plus Pike and Zoecara.”

  The stars shone brightly now in the darkness.

  Something wet touched Arentiss’s cheek, startling her. She captured it on the tip of her finger. It appeared to be water. Another drop rolled down her cheek.

  She looked up again at the stars, grasping what was happening.

  Tears.

  She hadn’t felt such strong emotion since childhood. It was a strange, confusing sensation. She closed her eyes, but she couldn’t shut out the pain.

  Aven

  _____

  WINTER

  Winter watched in silence as Karience’s fingers danced over the ship’s controls.

  “They’re heading for the tower,” shouted Karience. “Ship to Captain Hawth. This is your Empyrean. Has the tower been evacuated?”

  “Yes Empyrean, except for Nephitus and I, and a handful of Shield Force members to man the weapons.”

  “Get out, Captain! Now! A hostile starship is coming your way!”

  Karience took a breath and then shouted again, “Ship to Nephitus. Warden! What are you doing in the Tower?!”

  “We’re protecting our resources. As Warden, that is my duty.”

  “You don’t have the fire power to match this ship. Abandon your post, Warden!”

  “Sorry, Empyrean. It’s too late for that. I see the ship on the screen. It’s at our doors.”

  Winter saw the mercenary ship far below them, racing forward into Anantium, toward the Guardian Tower. Blue pulses shot out from the tower, targeting the vessel. The ship weaved in and out, dodging most, but the ones that struck seemed to have no effect. Then a massive pulse of light shot from the vessel, toward the tower. A blinding glare lit the viewscreen and Winter thrust her arm out to block her eyes from the flare.

  The flash faded, and Winter stared as plumes of smoke covered the place where the Guardian Tower had stood. What lay under the smoke and the pulsing orange glow beneath, she could only imagine.

  Death and destruction.

  It was too late. Karience had warned them, but no one inside could have taken more than a few steps.

  Karience made a low, guttural noise in her throat, her face rigid with fury. Winter felt her entire body pressed into the chair as the ship pitched forward in a burst of speed. The mercenary vessel filled the viewscreen. Bursts of light shot from their own starship. Each looked like a blazing white star shooting through the dark sky, curving upwards, toward the mercenaries. The moment the first one reached it, the viewscreen glowed with a hot orange explosion, then another, and another. Karience was pummeling the rear of the mercenary ship with simple finger touches to the controls.

  Red lights emerged from the enemy vessel, growing in size as they turned in the night sky, soaring toward The Relic.

  “Hold on!” shouted Karience.

  Their ship shook. The straps Winter had locked in place held her to the chair, but her head felt like it would be whipped off her body if not for the tall chair back.

  “We can’t take much,” shouted Karience. “This ship isn’t designed for warfare.”

  Winter felt a pull on her mind. The tug of Whisper, drawing her away.

  An image slowly formed. A butterfly wing, torn. Whisper’s wing, shredded at the joint where it connected to the body. Its sole, eye-like dot, stared at her. Why she felt sadness, she didn’t understand. The mysterious eye drew her in, becoming real, soul-bearing and alive. And then her perspective grew larger, and she saw the wing was held, cupped in someone’s hand. It was her brother’s hand. And before him was the monster that had continuously hounded her visions. The creature was hungry for him. Hideous to look upon.

  It stood there, low set eyes drooping behind a snout longer than any human body.

  Whisper’s wing lay there, limp in Aven’s hand, and the vision faded.

  A horrible certainty gripped Winter. Aven was onboard the mercenary ship. She looked up at the viewscreen and saw the ugly vessel racing away from them into the stars.

  She knew it to be true. Aven was onboard.

  And so was the monster.

  HEARTH

  The joy of the Aeraphim was to see suffering in humans, and then alleviate it.

  …When some did what was forbidden them and entered an animal of flesh, their nature became fused with that of the animal.

  That was how the first Beasts came to be.

  -Author unknown, Turning of the Aeraphim,

  (Takmuk’s collection of ancient writings, Verdlands)

  EPILOGUE

  SAVARAH

  Warm energy whirled inside her right breast where she knew the arrow had torn through her chest. The healing sensation felt just like her master’s touch. A touch she hadn’t felt since the war games of her youth. But this couldn’t be Isolaug’s doing…

  Unless Harcor had brought her back to the Star Garden Realm.

  Horror seized her. Was she being resurrected? Was she back in Praelothia?!

  The thought of what Isolaug might do to her. Images arose in her mind. Memories of tortures and mutilations she’d witnessed as a young girl.

  Slowly, she opened her eyes.

  Three faces hung above her. A young girl, a man not long from youth,
and a boy child. The girl’s hands appeared to be on her chest, just as the Divine King, who’s mind her master ruled, would do.

  “She’s awake,” said the boy.

  All eyes turned to her.

  “Who are you?” asked Savarah.

  “Diviners,” said the man. “This boy is a Tongue of the gods. If you listen to him, you won’t be directed wrong.”

  “I have words for you!” said the boy excitedly. He dropped down from where he stood onto his hands and knees and put his face too close to her own. She wanted to slap away the boy’s stupid grin. “A ship from the stars is coming to our world! A scary, scary monster is inside the ship, with huge teeth and big claws. It has a tongue as long as a snake, and even its eyes are big. The monster’s so, so big! It’s almost as big as this whole house. And it has a friend. You are going to like the monster’s friend, if you listen to my words. He will protect you. The gods know what you want in your heart. They say they won’t give it to you, but they’ll give you something better if you trust my words.

  “I think that’s it,” said the boy. “No…one more thing. You have to watch the sky. In two days, you’ll see the ship come down over there.”

  Savarah was relieved when the boy backed his head away and pointed. His stubby arm and finger like a stunted wind vane teetering toward the east. It was the very direction she wanted to go. To Praelothia. She stared at the three for a moment. “Why are you healing me?”

  “Because,” said the girl, “we were directed to you by the gods, the Makers.” The girl looked up at the man. “Are you going to tell her what you see?”

  He stared at the girl for a moment, then looked down at Savarah. “You have a spirit creature attached to you. It has become a part of what drives you. I thought I was supposed to remove it, but I feel pressed not to. Just know that it is there. Perhaps it will be removed by some other means. I hope it is. It’s not a pretty little creature. Do you experience many emotions?”

  Savarah glared at him. “Hardly.”

  “The monster will help you with that!” said the boy, grinning happily. “You’ll see. Just wait and see.”