Planet Urth: The Fate of Urth (Book 5)

by Jennifer Martucci

  “Cousin, there are hundreds of thousands of Uganna. This is our best chance. Trust me,” Luc pleads.

  “I don’t recall asking for your counsel, cousin,” Dhaval says sharply.

  Luc’s jaw drops and he shakes his head as if uncertain of what just transpired. “I-I’m sorry,” he mutters as bands of pink streak his cheeks.

  “How would it look if I told my people that we were going to fight side by side with humans, the very humans who overtook our cities and slaughtered our people?” Dhaval’s gaze vacillates between Sully and me, searching our faces as if we should completely understand what he means. While he has a point, the lives of his people are on the line. That supersedes all else.

  “It doesn’t matter how it looks,” I say and do not bother to curb my temper. Dhaval is allowing foolish pride to take precedence over survival, a detail that is so incredibly idiotic I could cry.

  Pursing his virtually nonexistent lips, Dhaval narrows his eyes. “I’m sorry you wasted your time coming here. You should return to your city and prepare for what I imagine will be a difficult battle.” His disinterest in our fate is maddening. “I’ll allow you safe passage out of Agroth, but I cannot help you.”

  Rising to my feet, my voice rises. “It’s in your best interest to help. I don’t understand! Your stubbornness will lead to the death of all of your people. Don’t you get that?” My heart is pounding and my mind is whirling around his words, his flagrant disregard for his city and its inhabitants.

  “Silence!” he shouts and slams his hand upon the table. “My people will be ready when the Uganna come. The Uganna will die here.”

  Shaking my head and furrowing my brow, I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “I thought you were reasonable, that it was you who ordered the truces between humans and Urthmen.”

  “I did. I ordered the truce. Not killing each other and fighting side by side are two very different things.” He inhales deeply. “I suggest you get moving before I change my mind about granting you a safe exit,” he says tightly. Standing, he doesn’t look at any of us. He simply leaves the room, stunned to silence so thick a pin could be heard dropping. Armarius follows after him.

  After several moments, I whirl on Luc. “Thanks a lot,” I hiss. “This was a waste of time we don’t have.”

  Luc’s features gather. “I’m sorry. I thought things would go differently. I never thought he’d refuse us.”

  “Well he did,” I say dejectedly. Resting my elbows on my knees, I take my head in my hands and rub my temples. Sully rubs my back in a large circular pattern. His touch, while soothing, doesn’t ease the worry that bunches the muscles of my neck and shoulders.

  “We’d better get back now,” Sully says softly.

  I stand slowly and we retrace our steps to the front door. The five guards from the gate meet us and guide us back through the crowded streets of Agroth. Once we reach our vehicle and climb inside, I lower my window and watch as the gate parts. A familiar face is suddenly in front of mine. “Good-bye, Azlyn. I’ll see you soon,” Armarius threatens, his voice a low growl.

  Though I try to ignore him, to dismiss his threat, deep in my marrow, I know we’ll meet again. I force myself to push any future encounters with him to the back of my mind. Cassowary is in danger, a swarm of Uganna plotting to storm it and destroy all who cross their path. I worry that all hope is lost.

  Chapter 20

  Dust and rocks spray behind our tires as we pull out of Agroth. After insisting that he drive, Sully races down the long, winding path, away from the Urthmen city and out onto the open road. The sun is high overhead. The woodlands that line the pavement blaze like firelight in midday sun, only instead of heartening me as it typically would, the sight is a painful reminder of all that I’ll miss, for once the Uganna attack we’ll all fall.

  Balling my fists so tightly my fingernails leave small crescent-shaped marks on my palms, I huff. “I can’t believe what happened back there!” I turn in my seat and glare at Luc. “I can’t believe your cousin is willing to put his people’s best interest second and his image first.”

  Luc shakes his head and presses his too-thin lips so closely they disappear completely.

  “I know!” Sully agrees. I face him. “What the heck was that all about? He’s so worried about how he’ll look, what the popular opinion will be if he joins forces with humans. Makes perfect sense, right? Only not at all because everyone will be dead!” Sarcasm drips from his every word. His upper lip is curled and his eyes are narrowed. His expression mirrors exactly how I feel: annoyed, frustrated, and hopeless.

  “We wasted an entire day going there to basically beg for his help and get rejected when we should’ve been at Cassowary preparing for the attack,” I fume and support what Sully has said.

  “It’s true. Two entire cities are being evacuated. We should’ve been there overseeing that not pleading with a leader who doesn’t give a damn whether we’re wiped off the face of the earth.”

  Luc, who up until now has been silent, sitting with his arms folded and his chin resting against his chest, lifts his head. “My cousin Dhaval was stubborn and foolish. He didn’t believe his people would approve of him deciding to fight alongside humans.”

  “Yeah, and as a result, we’re going to die.” Sully doesn’t rein in his anger. He pounds his fist against the steering wheel.

  “You’re both right to be mad,” Peter joins in. “Dhaval wasn’t putting the safety of his people first. Forget about the safety of humans. He was too busy worrying about his reputation, about how it would look that first, he ordered a truce of sorts, and then if he were to align themselves with humans to battle the Uganna, well, I’m sure he thought that’d send his image straight to the trash.”

  “I understand all that,” I say as I twist in my seat once again. “But I still can’t wrap my mind around risking death to his people for the sake of his image.”

  “It’s not like him, not at all,” Luc says.

  “I’m sorry, Luc, but I don’t buy that for a second,” Sully grumbles. “Dhaval seemed more than comfortable rejecting us. In fact, he seemed like he could hardly hold down his breakfast just looking at us.”

  “I’m sure whatever you perceived as dislike of you was little more than his bad mood after his run-in with Armarius.” Luc is adamant as he defends his cousin.

  “He didn’t seem all that fond of you either, so maybe there’s some truth to what you’re saying.” Sully’s tone is neither argumentative nor mocking but I still can’t help but chuckle.

  Luc lowers his head and I’m struck by a pang of guilt. “I suppose you’re right about that,” he says quietly.

  Ordinarily, I’d be inclined to reach out to someone who’s feeling as he feels, but considering that a pack of tens of thousands of Uganna are prepping to storm our cities and kill us all, I hold off on the comforting him and focus my thoughts on how the heck we can stave off the beasts. “What’re we going to do?” I think aloud.

  “I don’t know.” Sully shakes his head somberly and I watch as sunlight filters in through the driver’s side window, highlighting his profile and lightening the pale streaks in his sandy hair. My breathing catches for just a second before I return my attention to the road ahead. Rushing at me in a dizzying blur, the world beyond the windshield is a chaotic jumble of greens, golds and browns. Sully is testing the engine, trying to cover ground that was lost during our trip to Agroth to the point of being almost reckless. The time lost can never be regained. He knows that as well as I do. Still, he speeds, challenging the SUV along the open road. Ahead, a sharp curve waits. Jerking the wheel, Sully guides our vehicle, demanding that it navigate the sudden bend. Tires protest and as we round the bend, my breath catches in my chest a second time.

  Inhaling harshly, I mutter, “Oh my gosh!”

  Covering the road in a tide of terror, Uganna stretch as far as the eye can see. Panting and chuffing as their knuckles and feet take turns hitting the pavement, they move with deadly agility. The sou
nd of their unified steps rolls like thunder, vibrating through the body of our SUV through me. They’re ahead of us, mobile and advancing toward Cassowary; of that I’m, certain.

  “Dammit! What do I do?” Sully exclaims.

  My eyes dart from left to right, searching desperately for a way to circumvent the beasts and make it to our city ahead of them. “There! There!” I point to a break in the dense tree line just a few hundred feet ahead. “Turn off there! It’s our only chance!”

  Our vehicle is four-wheel drive. It’s designed to tackle rough terrain, but at the speed we’re traveling, I fear we’re in grave danger.

  “Hold on!” Sully shouts as he jerks the steering wheel hard and to the left. No one has time to react to his warning though. The front end of the SUV dips, dropping dramatically and hitting the ground below hard before the tires encounter rocks and brush. Bumping and jerking, Luc cries out as his head hits the roof. “Buckle up back there!” Sully yells. Belted in as I am I hold tight to my seat, bracing myself for impact at any moment, or worse, being surrounded by a pack of Uganna.

  Uganna do not circle us, however, and we drive deeper and deeper into the woods, dodging bushes and narrowly avoiding crashing headlong into trees until the foliage thins and a clearing becomes visible. Heather fronds in a rich shade of lavender reach and stretch for what seems like eternity, swaying in the crisp fall breeze. The sight would be breathtaking were we not racing against the Uganna and time itself to return home and warn our loved ones. We are at the cusp of the heather field, when I look to the road and see a set of eyes, darker and deeper than doom incarnate, lock on us. “Oh no,” I breathe just as the beast howls out and notifies those surrounding him. “He saw us.”

  “What? Who? Who saw us?” Sully takes his eyes off the road for a split-second to look at me. When his eyes return to the road, I do not have to reply. He sees what I saw. “Oh my gosh!” he cries as a group breaks from the massive crowd and charges toward us, trying to head us off.

  “We’re never going to make it!” Peter screams.

  “Like heck we won’t,” Sully growls and doesn’t slow. Instead, he takes aim, directing the front end of the vehicle at the first Uganna he spots. Stomping down hard on the gas pedal, the SUV lurches forward, listing and shuddering over the lumpy landscape. Uganna cross our path but Sully doesn’t slow or stop. Instead, he slams into them. Thumps sound accompanied by groans and yelps, and blood splatters. Bodies are mangled, smashed beyond repair. But more keep coming.

  Learning from their fallen brethren, the Uganna flank us on either side, ramming us on the right so that we lift onto two wheels.

  “Oh my gosh!” I cry as we nearly tip.

  “Hold on!” Sully shouts and yanks the steering wheel. The SUV rights itself and drives on four wheels once again. Sully veers left and right, hitting and injuring as many as he can before gunning the engine and launching us deeper in the field and farther from the Uganna until they are no longer visible. Fire shoots through my veins, pounding relentlessly through my blood. My heart maintains a frantic tempo, but as we put more and more distance between us and the Uganna, I begin to feel the faintest glimmer of hope. Hope that we might avoid another attack. Hope that we might make it to Cassowary to warn the others. I’m not sure what good warning them will do, other than delay the inevitable, but sometimes hope is all a person has in this word, and I’m clinging to it like a lifeline.

  After a few more miles traveled, we begin making our way back toward the roadway. Uganna aren’t near, though I hear the thunderous clatter of their approach, even over the roar of the engine. We are ahead of the herd as we hurry to our city.

  An hour passes, and then another before the towering spires of Cassowary’s walls come into view. The gate is opened and we are welcomed inside. Once within the protective walls, I see rows of trucks, cars and SUVs. Thousands of people mill about the pathways that connect buildings. It’s a welcome sight.

  Once Sully brakes to a stop, I open my door and jump from my seat, racing up the spiral stone staircase to the top of the wall where Oliver waits. “Oliver!” I shout. He turns, drilling me with aquamarine eyes identical to his late brother’s. “How many more are we waiting for?” I ask referring to vehicles loaded with evacuees.

  “This is it,” he replies as I draw closer.

  “Thank goodness. We don’t have any time.” Breathless from nerves and from sprinting up the steps, I rush to the raised section of the wall where our warning bell waits. Using every ounce of my body weight, I pull with all my might on a length of rope attached to it. Within seconds, the long mournful toll begins, echoing through every inch of Cassowary, through the cavernous hollows of my being. Everyone filing out of vehicles and through town freezes at the sound, their eyes turning skyward to me. I wave frantically, urging the few that wait beyond the gate inside. “Get in! Everyone get in!” I turn to Oliver. “Round up every gun and every archer we have from all the cities. We need them on the wall now!”

  “Yeah, they’re coming as we speak!” Sully is beside me. He grabs a pair of binoculars from his pocket and peers through them. “That was only one pack that we passed according to Luc and Peter. More will be coming and from all directions.”

  Stomach bottoming out at the grimness of his words, I swallow back the bitter burn of fear rising in my throat. “We’ll be ready when they get here.” I speak the sentence with certainty I do not possess, yet I force myself to hold fast to hope. Hope is all I have.

  I resolve to do what I’ve always done, to steel myself and fight. This is not a single battle of many to come. This is an epic clash that will determine the fate of my species. This is a battle for our future. The fate of humankind hangs in the balance, and if we fail to defend ourselves now, human beings will fall to extinction.

  The outcome of this fight decides our destiny.

  Chapter 21

  Silence, thick and sinister, rings in my ears. The chirp of birds has halted. The scurry of rodents has quieted. The forest has gone still; a preternatural hush smothers the sounds in and around it. A faint breeze drifts, stirring treetops and sending coiled tendrils of my hair blowing back. Every muscle in my body is tense as I stand at the top of the wall staring through my binoculars. I watch for movement of any kind. I wait for the Uganna to attack.

  Anticipating an ambush from a bloodthirsty enemy that outnumbers us and surpasses us where savagery is concerned feels a lot like standing alone beside a Lurker burrow at sunset. I know threat prowls in our midst, poised. Waiting.

  Danger, pure and palpable in its intensity, shrouds us as we crouch shoulder-to-shoulder. Gunmen and archers alike—thousands of humans from all three cities—are ready. I’m not sure how much time has passed. Though it feels as if we’ve spent days positioned exactly as we are, the fact that the sun has shifted little suggests it hasn’t been more than an hour. Dipping low in the sky and sinking into the horizon fast, the sun grudgingly relinquishes its grip on the day. The sky flushes a rosy pink adorned by streaks of lavender and azure as twilight befalls the earth. As soon as it surrenders so that just a fiery arc remains visible above the skyline, I notice the first dark silhouette slip sinuously between two trees.

  I point toward it. “Okay folks, I think we’ve got company.” Goose bumps cover my flesh, my entire body prickling with a potent combination of fear and adrenaline. The time has come, the moment of reckoning. Humanity will either rise or fall in the coming seconds, minutes, or hours. The click of guns rising and the strain of bows being pulled taut echoes hauntingly as shadows begin streaming between trees and brush, flowing from the forest like a tide of black blood.

  Heart pumping madly, I watch in both horror and awe as they race full speed from the forest without regard for strategy, without formation. Their heedlessness calls to mind wild animals, only I know these beasts are unlike any that roam these parts. They rush with fierce grace, with murderous purpose. And we are their intended target. But for all their intent and for all their ferocity, we have a few
defenses at our disposal. Chief among them is the moat dug when King Leon’s army attacked. Still hollowed out and treated with accelerant, I signal to June to light an arrow, load in her bow and send it flying to the trench. Already one has been removed from her quiver. She touches its tip to the flame of a torch mounted in a sconce along the wall and nocks it before pulling her bowstring taut and launching it into the darkening night. The glowing tip of the arrow whistles through the evening sky, shrieking like a war cry as it streaks like a harbinger of doom.

  As soon as the arrow lands and touches the accelerant soaked earth, flames bloom, flowing and spilling like fiery blue waters that grow and flourish, towering until they lick the heavens with pale gold tongues. Uganna that roam nearby are snared, roped by lassos of fire and burned alive. Yelps and cries ring out, a sick feeling of glee filling my belly as they do. Though I dare not entertain false hope by believing we’ve achieved even a small victory with our fire filled moat, I don’t deny myself the thrill of watching some die. The fire spreads in a ring, encompassing the city of Cassowary in a protective wall of flame and consuming our enemy. This strategy was used before, only this time, we didn’t have a chance to soak the open field past the moat in the flammable substance. We’re vulnerable to those who make it past the fire. And some do.

  Diving and lunging through the blazing barricade, the Uganna are unrelenting, ignoring the threat of death as they advance. Many catch fire and burn, causing the stench of burning fur and flesh to permeate the air, while others stop and roll to extinguish the flames on their bodies. Still more keep coming.

  A pack reaches our wall. Some drag ladders. Some begin throwing grapples with long, hooked prongs that affix to the top of the protective barrier, a considerable length of rope dangling from them.

  Seeing this, seeing how quickly they advance, sends my heart rocketing to my throat. “Fire!” I scream, and at my command, bullets and arrows rain down from the wall, eclipsing the meager light of dusk. Bullets tear through Uganna, sending bits of flesh and tufts of fur swirling in every direction before finally showering to the ground below. But even as we try to protect the wall, groups continue to pour through the flames fluidly. They are doom incarnate.