by S. E. Smith
He hurried over to his brother. Zoran shifted back into his two-legged form and groaned. Creon gave his brother an apologetic look.
“We should probably give her space,” Zoran grunted out, rather stiffly rising to his feet.
“Look out!” Creon hissed.
He tackled Zoran around the waist and pushed him back behind the boulder as Carmen released a long, furious stream of dragon fire. They kept their heads down as the rock heated and glowed. She was out of control with grief.
“Can you calm her?” Zoran asked, peering over the glowing boulder.
Creon glared at Zoran. “How do you think Abby would react if you stopped her from protecting Zohar?” he retorted.
Zoran grimaced. “Let me rephrase the question. Is there any way to calm her?” he asked.
Creon’s mate was formidable in a fight in any form, but her emotions always added fuel to her fire, enhancing her speed and power. Creon would be a deadly catastrophe himself if he let himself think about their lost daughter. Instead, he focused all his energy on the current problem. Carmen needed him.
Her dragon was now attacking the rock wall where Phoenix had disappeared. Long, bloodied claw marks coated the uneven surface. Her snarls reflected their combined grief, both Carmen’s and her dragon’s. If Creon didn’t do something soon, he feared Carmen’s dragon would completely take her over, and he would lose them both. Madness was an ever-present threat for dragon-shifters. He could feel it lurking in his own mind, contained by a lifetime of training.
He leaned his head back against the boulder and thought, then narrowed his eyes when he saw Harvey emerge out of the river and shake. There might be one thing that would calm Carmen’s dragon.
Harvey, I need enormous eyes and bigger ears, he silently requested.
“Stay here,” he ordered his oldest brother.
Creon slowly rose to his feet as the symbiot shimmered. Together they climbed the stairs to the platform. Carmen had already known the pain of losing a child before they met. He couldn’t fathom the agonizing fear she must be suffering at the thought of losing another.
“Carmen,” he called, slowly walking forward. “Love, look at me.”
Carmen’s dragon continued to tear at the wall. He jumped to the side when her tail swept back and forth with her distress. With a wave of his hand, he motioned for Harvey to go to her.
The symbiot trotted forward, stumbling on his oversized ears. He was in the shape of the old hound dog that Carmen had loved as a child. Carmen’s dragon turned around and snapped at the symbiot in warning. Harvey immediately dropped and rolled onto his back, four paws extended. The dragon froze, her wild eyes narrowing at the sight.
“Carmen, come to me, love. Let me hold you,” he murmured. “I need you, Carmen. Come back to me.”
Her dragon looked into his eyes, her turbulent expression gentling slightly. He kept speaking in a quiet, soothing voice. Once he was close enough, he caressed her wing. She shuddered and shifted back into her two-legged form.
He slowly enfolded her in his arms, holding on tightly to his sobbing mate. Her petite frame violently shook with the intensity of her heartbreak.
They held each other close, drawing strength and comfort from their embrace. He ran his hands up and down her back while Harvey pressed close against her leg.
“We have to bring her back, Creon. She’s our little girl. We have to find her and bring her back,” she said in a tortured voice.
Zoran carefully came closer and said, “Only a Goddess can pass through the Gateway, Carmen. I had to stop you. If you had gone through it—I would have lost both you and Creon.”
Creon looked at the King of Valdier over Carmen’s head. “Thank you, brother,” he said before he tenderly caressed Carmen’s cheek. “We will get our daughter back. I swear I won’t rest until we do.”
Chapter 25
Isle of the Monsters
Asahi let the rhythm of Tai Chi calm his mind and body. While researchers called it meditation in motion, his grandfather said Tai Chi unblocked and encouraged the flow of Qi, the energy force that flowed through the body and expanded outward. The movements helped balance the opposing elements that make up the universe. He believed his grandfather’s version.
He controlled his breathing, pulling on his inner discipline, learned from decades of practice. It took him longer than usual to relax his mind. When he finally achieved the balance, the visions and the voice of the alien flowed through him.
The alien had abandoned the eel because of the Water Sirens, choosing instead to divide into narrow bands that looked like thousands of sea snakes. He felt a moment of disorientation when he connected to them. The slithering bodies blended with the dark grass on the bottom of the lake. The spread of the alien in this form made it more challenging for the Water Sirens to stop its advance.
You must stop it.
The sorrow-filled voice swept through his mind. It was barely discernable above the indistinct sounds resonating from the multitude of other creatures, but it still pierced through the noise, noticeably different because it was feminine. He followed it back to the source. It was a lone strand of the alien, larger than the rest, solid black, but with a touch of gold peeking through. It fell behind the others, appearing reluctant to follow.
He focused on it. There were two distinct voices coming from it. The first voice was familiar. It was the same one that he’d heard down in the goblin cave and later at the home of the Daktyloi. The second voice, the barely audible feminine voice, was filled with overwhelming pain and sorrow.
Who are you? he let the words form in his mind, unsure if the entity could hear him.
You must not allow it to reach the Gateway, the voice responded.
How can we stop it? he asked.
This one uses me, so the only way to stop it is—
Asahi stiffened when the black band encircling the gold screeched with fury. He remained focused on the vision, even as the entity in his body rebelled. Sweat beaded on his brow and intense pain surged until he felt like it would split him in two.
“Asahi, stop!” Nali’s harsh cry pierced the agonizing pressure.
A powerful wave of fatigue hit him, and his knees buckled. He would have hit the ground hard if not for Nali’s arm around his waist. He reached out and held onto her as he staggered.
“I’m alright,” he slurred.
“No, you are not. Let me get you back to the tent,” she replied.
He tiredly nodded his head. “This one is stronger than we thought,” he mumbled.
“Then we must be even tougher,” she said in a soothing tone.
“Nali… I love you,” he murmured.
She tightened her hold on him and released a shaky breath. “I love you, too, Asahi,” she replied.
He was vaguely aware of Ashure hurrying forward to help Nali get him into a tent. He closed his eyes when his head connected with the pillow and thankfully gave into the numbing darkness of exhaustion that engulfed him.
“Will he be alright?” Ashure asked a few minutes later.
Nali nodded and rubbed her arms. She gazed around the camp. Gargoyles sharpened their swords, ate, and murmured among themselves. Drago and Koorgan stood with another group, sparring with a variety of weapons. Gem and Ross sat by the fire talking with Ariness and Isha.
“Where’s Orion?” she asked with a frown.
Ashure shrugged. “I saw him walking toward the river a few minutes ago. He’s probably having a conversation with the fish,” he said.
She looked back into the tent where Asahi lay sleeping on the wide cot. There were a few things that she needed to do, but she was hesitant to leave Asahi’s side. She feared for his safety. On the cliff, it had been impossible to miss the alien inside him. When he had connected with the alien, its dark web had spread across his skin, turning his flesh darker than her own.
“Ashure, can you watch over him?” she asked in an emotion-filled voice.
“With my life, Nali,” he vo
wed.
She withdrew the dagger from the waist of her trousers and held it out with trembling fingers. Ashure probably wouldn’t need Mr. Gryphon, but if Asahi was to wake before her return, he might. She couldn’t bring herself to ask Ashure to harm Asahi. If it came to that horrific point, she would be the one to do it. She had promised that she would.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said.
“Be careful,” he cautioned.
She nodded. “I will.”
Nali landed along the bank of the river and shifted from her gargoyle form back to her normal appearance. She raised an inquiring eyebrow at Orion. The Sea King stood in the middle of the river, holding his trident.
“Are you telling the fish a bedtime story?” she asked with an amused grin.
Orion chuckled and shook his head. “Yes and no. You can learn a lot from the water,” he said, wading ashore.
She tilted her head. “And what did it tell you?” she curiously asked.
“That it is very wet,” he dryly replied.
She laughed. “I would think the Sea King would have already figured that out,” she teased.
He walked over and leaned back against a large rock, propping his trident against it. She marveled that his clothing dried as soon as he was out of the water. She walked over and leaned next to him.
“We know the alien is in the lake. The aquifers are connected and can span hundreds, sometimes thousands, of miles underground. The voices of the Water Sirens carry through it,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow. “Thousands of feet up a mountain?” she asked in a skeptical tone.
He looked back at the river and nodded. “This was once a volcano. Trust me when I tell you that there is a lake under the crater that goes down thousands of feet,” he said.
“If anyone would know, it would be you. Is it possible that the alien could attack us through the underground aquifer?” she asked.
“Anything is possible,” he said.
“There is something else bothering you,” she shrewdly observed.
Orion gave a brief nod and looked up at the stars. “I’ve been thinking about what Ashure told Drago and me—about what happened… what could happen if we fail. I’m not afraid of dying, but the thought of losing Jenny and our children…,” he confessed, his voice trailing away as he found himself unable to express his horror.
She reached out and squeezed his arm in comfort. “We won’t let that happen. This is a powerful place. The Goddess gave the Seven Kingdoms to us to protect. We won’t give up without a fight—and neither will she. She will help us defend our world if we need her to,” she said.
Orion nodded. “I hope you are right, Nali,” he replied.
“I am. I need to check on a few things before the battle starts,” she said as she stood up.
“I’ll continue to monitor the situation from here. The Water Sirens are resourceful and love to gossip,” he mused.
She chuckled. “Be careful they don’t lure you away from Jenny,” she teased.
“Never,” he swore.
She laughed again before focusing on her transformation. The ripple effect of her hardening skin would be lost on most because it occurred so quickly. She spread her wings and pushed off the ground. Her night vision wasn’t as good as that of a dragon, but it was good enough, especially considering that one moon was in its waning gibbous phase and the other a waxing crescent. Even the stars alone would have been enough on a cloudless night like tonight.
As she flew, her thoughts immediately returned to Asahi. She had to save him. She knew deep in her heart that any other option would be impossible to accept. Just the thought of her promise to him caused her physical pain.
Yet, the look on Orion’s face and the intense grief in his voice reminded her that this was greater than herself or Asahi. This would be a fight for the survival of an infinite number of worlds and their inhabitants. In the large scale of the universe, she and Asahi—and even the Seven Kingdoms—were nothing but a speck of sand on a beach. The only comfort she could draw was that somehow, some way, the Goddess would not allow them to fail.
She took in the sights of her beloved mountain meadow and forests. This sanctuary was where the Goddess had given her into the care of the fairies. Under Xyrie’s watchful eye and with the unicorn’s great wisdom, the fairies had entrusted her to the Emperor and Empress of the Isle of the Monsters. They had been loving parents. Their deaths within weeks of each other had taught her that life was fragile.
She dipped lower, flying into the forest. Moonlight streamed through the canopy, illuminating her way from above while bioluminescent plants and insects lit her way from below. Soft, golden lights moving through the forest told her that she had found what she was looking for. She was relieved to know that Xyrie and the other unicorns were farther inland from the cliffs.
She glided under the tree limbs until she came to a thinning section of trees where the unicorns rested among the high ferns, and she landed close to a young stallion. He tossed his head, sending his long mane flying back and forth, then he respectfully knelt before her.
“Empress, the night birds told us you were coming,” the stallion greeted.
She searched the area. “Where is Xyrie?” she asked, concerned when she didn’t see the elder unicorn.
“Under the Great Willow,” the stallion replied.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
Nali looked toward the Great Willow, the oldest tree on the Isle of the Monsters. She folded her wings and they disappeared. She remained in her gargoyle form. Until her Isle was safe, it was best to remain ready for the battle to come.
While she had visited the Great Willow many times over the centuries, there was something different about it tonight. She lifted her chin when a tingle of energy caressed her face. The long, draping limbs of the tree were encased in a delicate golden glow.
“Xyrie,” she called.
She swept aside the curtain of hanging limbs and stepped under the Willow’s canopy. The old unicorn was lying at the base of the tree with her eyes closed. Nearly a dozen unicorns, ranging in age from a few weeks to a year old, raised their heads to look at her.
“Empress,” Xyrie greeted.
She waved to Xyrie. “Don’t get up,” she said with a gentle smile.
Xyrie shook her head. “I don’t think I could if I wanted to at the moment,” the old unicorn replied with a soft snort.
It was true. Four juvenile unicorns snuggled close to Xyrie. Two of the foals rested their chins on her back while the other two lay in a tangled heap against her chest.
“Xyrie, I’m afraid. I need your guidance.”
Asahi jerked upright, suddenly wide awake. A sound on his left caused him to turn in that direction. He automatically reached for the dagger by his side. It was missing.
“Asahi, how do you feel?” Ashure asked, stepping out of the shadows.
“My dagger—Mr. Gryphon—where is it?” he forced past his dry throat.
The Pirate King walked over to a table and poured water from a pitcher into a crystal cup. Asahi took deep, calming breaths to quiet his thundering heart.
Twisting on the cot, he swung his legs to the ground, and gratefully accepted the cup, drinking all the water in one long gulp. Ashure raised his eyebrow before he turned and retrieved the pitcher. Ashure refilled his cup two more times before Asahi was sated.
“Here is your dagger,” Ashure said, holding it out to him.
“Thank you,” he replied.
“How are you feeling?” Ashure repeated.
Asahi noticed concern and wariness in Ashure’s eyes. He clutched the Gryphon dagger and stood up.
“I’m fine. Where is Nali?” he asked.
“She said she had some things to do. She will return shortly.”
He watched Ashure take the empty cup from his hand and place it back on the table along with the pitcher—and then suddenly the memories, dreams, or whatever in the hell he was having, returned, surgin
g through his mind.
Visions, he realized.
His connection with the alien was stronger. Asahi closed his eyes and focused. He swayed with the movements of the creature. It was moving through the narrow, boulder-strewn section where he had almost fallen overboard.
“The alien is in the lake near the base of the mountain. It has taken a different shape,” he said in a voice devoid of emotion.
“What form?” Ashure quietly demanded.
“It’s massive. I see dozens of legs, protected by a segmented exoskeleton. It reminds me of the prehistoric trilobites from my world, only this one has flat armor. It has spikes along its legs and a tail with three long spines,” he described.
Ashure cursed loudly. “Well, that is fitting. It takes the lowest and smallest of life forms and turns it into a killing machine,” he muttered.
Asahi opened his eyes and looked at Ashure. “It also has two long fangs,” he added.
An expression of distaste crossed Ashure’s face. “And it has added its own modifications to the evolutionary design,” he interpreted.
“We need to warn Nali and the others. It will be here before dawn. The Water Sirens can no longer delay it—and, Ashure, it is mutating because of the imprisoned entity inside it. It has more strength now than we ever would have expected. I saw three, maybe four of the creatures functioning independently. The images blur together so it is hard to know for certain,” he said.
Ashure reached out and gripped his arm. “Do the best you can to let us know what it is doing. We need to warn the others,” he said.
He nodded. Looking down at the dagger, he rubbed his thumb over the hilt. He hadn’t told Ashure everything. The connection was so strong now that he had almost lost himself within the vision. If it hadn’t been for the fiery creature that had emerged out of nowhere… he wasn’t sure what would have happened to him—and he wasn’t quite sure what he had seen in those last few moments. He needed to make sense of the images before he tried to explain it.