Song of the Worlds Boxed Set

by Brandon Barr

  He couldn’t. Not like this. The man before him was innocent, even if he wasn’t real.

  Aven screwed the lever back into place. He knew where to find it if he needed it. But if he did need the lever again, it wasn’t something he could pull off in an instant. It took time to unwind from the wall.

  Time he probably wouldn’t have.

  LOAM

  The passion of Humanity Kind is what the Guardians need—the hunger to purge the influence of the gods as much as the Beasts. And even the most vocal (and rash) segment, the Execrata, could use some legitimization. I am petitioning Sentinel Rown and Sentinel Levva to give more power to your order. And resources. If all goes as I hope, your order will triple in size over the next few years, as will your caseload. No more spending years or decades with the Oracles. They shall have a month, and if they are not delivered, they will be humanely destroyed.

  -Sentinel Cosimo (secure transmission to Sanctuss Exenia)

  CHAPTER 6

  WINTER

  She pointed the lightstick, illuminating the blackened patch of grass. Anger kept her from tears. Behind her was the Guardian starship from which she’d flung herself the moment Karience opened the hatch. She’d searched frantically until Arentiss found her and took her to this spot. She hoped beyond hope that she didn’t already know the answers to her questions.

  “That’s where they burned Daeymara,” said Arentiss, standing beside her. “Your brother fought recklessly to save her. He is fortunate to be alive still.”

  She pictured the struggle and felt pride at her brother’s strength. Trying to save another. Aven was strong, and as much as he strove to avoid conflict, when it found him, he did not shy away from it.

  As Winter’s eyes swept over the grass, a morbid fear darkened her thoughts.

  “Did you see my butterfly jar around his neck?”

  “He shattered it against a mercenary’s face,” said Arentiss. She turned and pointed. “Somewhere over there.”

  The beam from Winter’s lightstick scanned the ground until the glint of glass caught her eye. She walked carefully over, then squatted beside the shattered rim of the jar. To her left there came a little flutter of movement. On a blade of grass was Whisper. Just as Winter had seen in her vision, a wing was torn off at the joint. She glared at the creature a moment.

  “You were supposed to go with him,” she said under her breath. She knelt, eyeing her butterfly, and silently questioned the Makers. When she stretched a finger out to the creature, it gingerly crawled onto her fingernail, then worked its way up onto her knuckle and perched there. A quick scan around the area of shattered glass, and then she knew…the other wing was where she’d seen it in her vision. With Aven.

  “Your brother is alive,” said Arentiss again. “You may be reunited still.”

  Winter looked up at Arentiss. The woman was only trying to provide her comfort and hope, but Winter’s visions had been gruesomely clear.

  She was suddenly seized by the thought of the single wing. Could it change anything? Her anger softened, her eyes filling with tears.

  “If he passes through any portal,” continued Arentiss, “he will return here, at the sea cliff. There is still a chance, and though it may be small, I will have hope.”

  Winter looked at the little one-winged butterfly on her knuckle, her thoughts lifting to the Maker whose arms she felt so long ago. Hope. Do you hear that, Leaf? I want hope.

  A voice nearby called to her and Arentiss. Winter stood and saw Karience beside Hark and Rueik. The Empyrean waved them toward the starship. Winter panned the grass with her lightstick one last time, then followed Arentiss to the ship.

  “We’ve been betrayed, that much is certain,” said Karience as they approached. “Rueik overheard something that we must discuss, but not here. We have to get to safety.”

  “Where is safety?” asked Winter. “I would not trust the Royals.”

  “Rest assured, we won’t be relying on the Royals’ hospitality,” said Karience. “I fear how they will react to the fall of our tower. The stability we had in their quorums was already on a razor’s edge. And then, there is still the threat of another mercenary attack. For our own protection, we’ll take refuge in our underwater facility. No mercenary ship I know of can reach us down there.”

  “Let’s get back then,” said Rueik. He gave Winter a fearful look. “You’re never going to believe what happened to me.”

  --

  RUEIK

  Karience brought the starship gently through the surface of the water, as if not wanting to be heard by those onshore. The dark of night was enough to conceal any visible sign of the craft, for she had all lights dimmed. She descended quickly, docking the ship into the main port of the underwater facility.

  Rueik glanced at the three remaining missionaries, Hark, Arentiss, and Winter. Swiftly, Karience led them all from the starship into the facility’s main hall.

  On the flight to the facility, Rueik had paid close attention to the instructions Karience gave to Shield Force. They were to send out a small team to help look for the injured—both Guardians and locals who might have survived the tower’s fall—but the rest of the force were to remain by the portal and await further command.

  It was what he expected, but he felt confident in the work Zoecara had done. The royal halls of the quorums would be buzzing like disturbed beehives tomorrow.

  Inside the facility, Karience brought them into a small room that encircled a large round table. Rueik had never been to this room. He had only seen a small portion of the underwater facility—a fourth perhaps.

  “Please sit,” said Karience. She composed herself as neatly as she could, but Rueik saw the strain of loss in her eyes. Nephitus had been her Shield Force warden twenty-eight years, since the very beginning. She’d relied on his strength time and again. His death visibly wore on her. She’d also lost Captain Hawth, a Loamian ally who had vocally supported the security precautions the Guardians had in place.

  The manner of Hawth’s death was quite fitting, thought Rueik. The captain had gone down with the tower he had so loyally defended.

  “We’ve lost friends today,” said Karience. “We must try and put our anger and sadness aside for a moment. Right now, I need to know what happened. Tomorrow, I’ll make a trip to the Magnus Empyrean. He will bring the news of Loam before the Arbiters. As of right now, all I can say is that a mercenary vessel destroyed the tower and took four Guardians with them. Daeymara, Aven, Pike, and Zoecara. But Rueik has told me something very disturbing, and I want everyone to add as much detail as possible.” Karience turned to Rueik and nodded.

  Rueik sighed and artfully contorted his face into lines of pain. “I feel ashamed to say this.” He breathed in and closed his eyes as tears ran down his face. “Zoecara betrayed us.”

  Silence filled the room at his revelation.

  “Arentiss and Hark, you saw it,” continued Rueik. “At the first sound of the mercenary ship, Zoecara left us. And Pike, he was right behind her. It was as if they knew what was happening. They didn’t say a word to us, just ran off. It made no sense to me. That’s why I ran after her.”

  “I remember that too,” said Hark. “She just took off. And Pike too. It was very strange.”

  Rueik nodded. “It gets worse. After I chased the two of them a little ways, I saw the ship and I saw the merc insignia. At that point it struck me that Zoecara somehow knew about the ship. That’s why she ran off without saying a word to us. So when I see Zoecara and Pike take refuge inside a barn, I follow them. As I pass through the door Pike grabs me and pushes me to the ground. Then he’s on top of me. I hear Zoecara’s screaming, ‘Hold him! Hold him!’ I’m fighting with Pike, and then I hear the sound of the land riders. I’m desperate now. I knee Pike in the groin and shove him off me. Zoecara just stands there, staring at me…like…” Rueik shook his head. “She wasn’t the same girl anymore. The look in her eyes…”

  Rueik took a deep breath, then went on.

 
“Pike gets up and he seems ready to jump at me again, and I hear the riders getting closer, so I turn and run further into the barn. I hide behind some hay bales, then look out. The riders stop at the entrance—two of them—and Zoecara starts speaking to them. The riders come into the barn. They’re looking for me and they’ve got plasma rifles.” Rueik bit at his lower lip. “The only reason I wasn’t caught is because of Karience. They suddenly stopped searching for me and ran outside—they must have heard the sound of our starship coming. I look out and see Pike and Zoecara leave with the mercenaries.”

  Rueik stared dejectedly at the speckled surface of the table, satisfied with his performance.

  Karience placed her elbows on the table, leaning in. “I know this may come as a blow to many of us, as it certainly has to Rueik. I want thoughts on this. Has anyone noticed any strange behavior from Zoecara or Pike that might shed light on today’s events?”

  Winter spoke first. “My brother told me of a conversation with you, Rueik. You told him you felt Zoecara was up to something. You said she suspected Aven and I were Shadowmen.”

  “That’s right,” said Rueik, “She started saying that to me in private the moment you arrived. She didn’t understand how you could have been chosen as Emissaries. I still don’t know why you were chosen, but I laughed off her Shadowman suspicions.”

  Karience’s face held concern. “They were chosen for a reason that only I am privy to. But let me assure you, Aven and Winter are very valuable to our order.”

  Rueik nodded. Curiosity pushed him to discover the reason why the two were valuable, but he held his tongue because it seemed irrelevant to his mission. Still, there were few secrets he’d encountered while living amongst the Guardians, and he could taste something important here.

  Winter looked at him, the questions in her eyes gone.

  Karience’s head bobbed slowly, as if accepting the spoken facts, yet weighed down by them. “Clearly Zoecara was working with some type of mercenary outfit. And she seems to have drawn Pike into it. Though it’s not clear how. His brain-wipe was complete and he had no reason to act as he did.

  “Which leads me to an alternative senario.” Karience let the possibility sit for a moment. “Zoecara could be a Shadowman. As some of you know, I worked for years with several Aftermath Teams. Many of the Beasts have the tools to alter someone like Pike. They train up creatures called Mind Scries. That could explain Pike’s behavior. I shall mention the possibility in my report to my Magnus Empyrean, Higelion. Whether he will take it seriously or not, that is another matter.”

  The Empyrean’s words seemed to bring closure to the discussion. Rueik was satisfied with Karience’s final thoughts. Everything had gone smoothly.

  “I have another observation,” said Arentiss, her upraised chin pointed at Rueik.

  Her impassive eyes and analytical tone sent a chill up his spine.

  “I saw four riders return with bodies strapped to their vehicles. Rueik, you said Zoecara and Pike went with the mercenaries. If Zoecara and Pike were friendly with them, why would they be strapped to the side instead of seated behind the rider?”

  Rueik swore silently in his thoughts, his eyes drifting to Arentiss’s primly folded hands upon the table. Lies came to mind. He raced to test them for holes, one by one.

  “Did you see how Pike and Zoecara left?” asked Hark. “Were they tied down?”

  Rueik tried to recall what he’d said earlier. He hadn’t been specific about how they departed. “I didn’t see how they left,” he said, the delay sounding awkward to his ears. “I just looked out and they were gone. I assumed they left with the mercenaries, but I didn’t see how they left.”

  Arentiss’s eyebrows crunched together. “They were strapped down. The question is, why?”

  “Maybe they were trying to keep the truth a secret,” said Hark. “They were pretending to be captured.”

  “That’s possible,” said Arentiss. “But why go through the effort of a disguise when they left Rueik behind alive with the truth?”

  “Maybe they were double-crossed by the mercs,” said Karience. “Rueik, did you hear anything like a scuffle or an energy pulse?”

  “No,” said Rueik. “The land rider engines were idling. Once Zoecara and Pike went outside, I doubt if I could have heard anything. Maybe a scream, but I heard nothing.”

  A short silence hung like a noose in the room. He squinted down at the table, as if searching his memories. If anything should go awry—if somehow his story fell apart, the first person he’d have to disable was Hark, and he’d have to work fast, snap his neck. The three women were not fighters, but three would not be easy to take down without a weapon.

  “You’re sure you saw them strapped to the sides?” asked Karience.

  “Yes,” said Arentiss. “As you know, I am very observant and have near perfect vision.”

  Karience smiled thinly. “Strange as it is, there could be any number of reasons they were strapped to the side.”

  “Maybe they were double-crossed,” said Hark. “When I mined asteroids, I saw a guy stabbed through the heart with an electro-blade. There was no sound. The guy just fell to the ground dead.”

  Karience’s gaze drifted down to her hands which tapped softly against the table. “If they were double-crossed outside the barn, then like Hark said, there are lots of instruments that can incapacitate a person silently if taken by surprise.” She stood. “Let’s put the question to rest at present. If any other factors come to mind, we can meet and discuss them. I will contact Higelion tomorrow and send him my report. For now, let’s all get some rest, if we can.

  CHAPTER 7

  WINTER

  She followed Karience and the others through smoothly angled hallways lined with portholes. In daylight, the portholes were windows to the teeming life of countless sea creatures and plants, but at night, the moon and stars did not penetrate the pure black water outside. She knew little of what lived in the sea, but she imagined some disfigured creature hovering just outside, unseen.

  Winter kept looking at the dark holes. The inability to see the water outside was strangely unnerving. She suddenly felt cold.

  Winter was given the first room Karience stopped at, and though she wanted to rush inside and fling herself on the bed…dig her face deep into the pillows…she knew the day’s events would haunt her thoughts.

  Aven was gone. She wanted to believe it wasn’t forever.

  Karience’s hand rested warmly on her shoulder. “If you need to talk, I’m here. I promise you, if there is a way to retrieve your brother, I will not stop until he’s found. I will ask for help at the end of my report to Higelion. There are resources that could be given to us.”

  “What resources?” asked Winter.

  “A squadron of starships.”

  “They would give us ships?”

  Karience stared at her a moment. “It is possible.”

  Winter heard the doubt in Karience’s voice and nodded.

  When the door to her room closed, she walked slowly to the foot of the bed, then sank down to the floor against the metal base.

  Whisper?

  She had placed the butterfly in her hair and nearly forgotten about it. She put a finger into her tangled strands and felt the little legs climb gingerly onto her knuckle.

  She studied the butterfly and thought of the Consecrators. They would be coming to talk to her soon. They would try and make her choose. Press her to renounce the Makers and her gift. They would use Aven’s capture as a point in their case.

  But what of her case for the Makers? Ever since that first vivid encounter, there was a clear pattern of rescue amidst death.

  Many of the visions given her had led to lives being spared. She’d saved a bird from a toad, the farmers from Baron Rhaudius, Karience and herself from the radical Execrata in the caves of Bridge. And then, just hours ago, she’d warned Karience of the destruction of the Guardian tower and because of it, Shield Force members and Loam’s security detail at the to
wer had escaped…at least most of them.

  Whisper turned toward Winter, as if looking at her face for her answer.

  Winter recalled Leaf’s promise…

  Child, your life carries a heavy load. On your shoulders stand many heroes, and under your feet the life of a Beast…

  The spirit of a seer will attach to you. It will be a blessing and a curse, but never forget, it is a gift, and it will save more than it will kill.

  She might never again communicate with her fingers, never feel the devoted love of her brother in a smile or tender embrace. Whether her actions earlier that day had changed his future or not, she had been warned of what would happen.

  She knew all along he would be taken from her.

  Whisper’s broken wing and the vision she’d had of it in Aven’s hand felt like a fragile hope, but it was enough.

  From Winter’s knuckle, Whisper stretched her one wing out. The little eye dot near the tip shimmered in the dull overhead room lights. The joint where the missing wing had attached quivered, as if with pain.

  Did she have justification to continue her journey with the Makers?

  Yes, thought Winter. More than enough.

  --

  Sleep had finally found Winter when a hand stirred her awake. A lightstick glowed beside a sharp-featured face. Arentiss.

  “I’m going to the barn to investigate. Would you care to come?”

  Winter sat up, her mind slowly rising out the swamp of heavy sleep. The dark portholes lining the left rim of her room were still eerie and black. “The barn? Investigate what?”

  “The barn Rueik chased Zoecara and Pike into.”

  Winter rubbed her right eye with the back of her hand. “Can’t we go in the morning, when there’s daylight?”

  “The sooner we go, the less chance of the scene being tampered with.”

  Winter squinted against the bright light of Arentiss’s lightstick. “Tampered with by who?”

  Arentiss shrugged. “The farmer who owns the barn, or hired hands. A look at the undisturbed scene is necessary. Are you coming?”