by C. S. Wilde
So tired…
I drop to my knees, willing the power to diminish our speed. It pushes against Chuck and Zed’s shield, but soon it shatters like a glass wall.
Need to sleep now…
Chuck’s voice comes muffled from somewhere, “We’re still too fast!”
“Concentrate on the front!” Zed shouts.
Then everything blinks out.
29
-James-
I float across pitch-black nothingness, drifting in a void.
“How will we find the cave?” Zed’s words come muffled, as if he’s speaking through a wall.
“I remember the latitude and longitude my pad reported before it got destroyed.” Chuck’s voice comes out clearer, louder than Zed’s, and it drags me across the threshold to awareness.
I’m lying down, stalks of grass prickling my back.
“You have a great memory, esteemed mentor,” Zed says. “But without a pad—”
“We don’t need a pad,” Sol’ut-eh scoffs.
Slowly I become aware of my fingers, hands, feet, then my entire body at once. I groan as I pry my eyes open.
A canopy of blue trees hangs above me. Wind swims through the gaps between tree trunks and branches, then dives toward the grassy ground before softly caressing my skin. The hairs on my arm stand. The air is fresher on the mountain, colder too.
With a hoarse throat, I grumble, “We’re alive, right?”
Shuffling steps, and then Zed looks down at me. “Barely,” he says with a grin. “It’s good to see you conscious again.”
The make-up on his face is almost gone, his lips a faded pink instead of blood-red, and his mascara has created a thin dark circle around his eyes. There’s a light scratch on his forehead, but I don’t think it’ll leave a scar.
I massage my forehead, hoping it will appease my monumental headache. It feels like my brain is trying to outgrow my skull. “How long was I out?”
“A couple of hours.” Zed shrugs, and I realize he’s lost his suit jacket. Zed without make-up and an incomplete suit, that’s a first. Considering he finds clothes and make-up essential parts of his vessel, this must’ve been hard for him.
“Still is,” he says.
I frown. “Dude, privacy.”
Chuck joins Zed and looks down at me with the expression of someone who just bit a lemon. There’s a gash on his forearm filled with drying blood, and two deep cuts on his left cheek. “Are you done resting, boy?”
“I wouldn’t call it resting.” I nod toward his cuts. “You okay?”
He pats the gash on his arm and rolls his eyes. “Please.”
I force myself to stand up, the power fast asleep within me. “Where’s Sol’ut-eh?”
“She’s fixing her broken arm.”
I turn to see her sitting over a rock, wrapping her left arm in a sling made of blue gauze. If I had been stronger, if I had kept consciousness just a little longer, they wouldn’t have been hurt.
“I’m so sorry,” I mutter.
“We’ve made it. That’s what matters.” She shows me a bulky white device that looks like a big marker pen. “I’m glad our medical tools are still working. Shotha’mat can make one feel absolutely superb.”
“Shotha’mat?”
“Something akin to morphine,” Chuck translates, his attention focused on the tree crowns. “Zed’phir-lack, have you recovered enough to lift me up?”
“Yes, esteemed mentor,” Zed says without hesitation. “The trees here are not as high as the ones in the clearance.”
“I can do it,” I jump in. “Using telekinesis takes a stronger toll on you than it does on me.”
Zed laughs and places both hands on his pear-shaped waist. “Does it, sleeping beauty?”
Oh, he’s getting snarkier. “Zed, I just need to see if I still have it under control.”
He frowns. “Your power, you mean?”
I nod.
“It’s under control, otherwise we’d all be dead,” Chuck says without paying any attention to us—he rummages through his backpack until he finds his leather belt. He wraps it around his waist and starts placing his knives on it. “Zed’phir-lack will succeed.” Chuck walks to the spot where Zed’s supposed to lift him up. “But he won’t learn if you stop him from trying.”
I lift both hands in surrender and turn to Zed. He nods me an “I can do this,” then presses his pouty lips tight and takes a deep breath. He stretches his arms at Chuck, and the red-haired child rises in the air.
Zed’s body shakes and he grits his teeth. Droplets of sweat bloom on his forehead as Chuck disappears beyond the tree crowns.
“You okay?” I ask, a silent offer to help hidden within the question.
“I’m fine,” he says behind biting teeth that seem about to crack.
Still, I pull the power from my core and spread it on the ground, its swirling waves creating a mattress. Not once does the power feel alien to me. Now it feels like a part of me that I’ve always had. I can’t help but smile at that.
“Take it back,” Zed grunts, his attention focused above. “I can make it.”
I quickly will the power back to me, and it obeys.
Sure enough, Zed brings Chuck back. It’s a bumpy descent, almost as if Chuck has been struck by turbulence, but he lands safely.
Zed exhales sharply and drops his bum on the ground. “By the dimensions, it’s like I’m three dratas old and can’t handle a simple lift,” he grunts. “I’ll be glad when we’re off this planet.”
Chuck lets out that long, mischievous grin of his. “That might happen earlier than you think.”
***
It takes us only a day to reach the wide gaping hole that pierces through solid rock. The cave is so huge that it could easily fit seven trains atop and beside one another.
Wind rushes in and creates a mellow, low-key wail when it hits the murky walls, almost as if it were crying for some lost soul. I get the sensation that if we go inside, we’ll never come out. But Miriam’s salvation is somewhere in this cave. Unless we bring her back to safety, I don’t care about returning home.
Chuck and Sol’ut-eh lead the way as always. Zed and I follow behind. Soon the light from the outside fades, and we pull out flashlights from our backpacks before darkness wraps around us in a velvety curtain.
The air in the cave is old and musty. The sound of water dripping echoes far ahead, and I have to concentrate hard not to trip over the rocky, slippery ground.
Zed points his flashlight at my feet. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, man.”
Zed might be a hardcore whisar nerd, but his trusting nature is kind and pure, in many ways softer than Miriam and Chuck’s. Unmarred. How someone like him managed to thrive in the austere coldness of the whisar world is a mystery. The society around him should’ve taken away his kindness and replaced it with utter numbness and disregard. Yet here he is.
Chuck and Sol’ut-eh stop ahead, staring at an eerie forking in the rocky path, the lights on their lamps shining across the two massive holes. We halt by their side.
“Which way?” Sol’ut-eh asks.
Chuck doesn’t reply, just stares ahead with narrowed eyes, as if he’s trying to see or listen to something we can’t.
“This way.” He nods to the path on the right and starts moving. “Werhn-za’har’s waiting for us.”
I remember Werhn-za’har as the kind whisar who saved our lives back at the moon base, but if he did anything to Miriam…
Sol’ut-eh mentioned that he killed millions of whisars, including her mate. I have no idea who or what will be waiting for us in the darkness, but a part of me hopes it’ll be the whisar with big yellow eyes and a merciful spirit.
From ahead, Chuck lets out a busty laugh, and I know he just read my mind, but he doesn’t say anything further.
Zed walks by my side. “Be prepared to face the smartest, and some dare say most powerful whisar who has ever lived,” he whispers, hints of excitement and fear mixing in
his voice.
My fists clench. I will do anything to get Miriam back.
Anything.
We soon reach an open space carved inside rock with a natural skylight which turns the darkness into light gray, rendering our flashlights pointless.
There’s an unlit bonfire in the clearing’s ashy middle, and a few bulky weapons leaning on the wall at the back.
A reptilian man resembling the ones we saw back at the village sits on a rocky bench, hunched before the dead bonfire, his long-fingered hands clasped together. He wears a gray tunic much like a medieval monk back on Earth. I can barely distinguish him from the rest of the cave, since it’s all the same shade of gray. His face is half covered by a thin hood.
Chuck calls, “Werhn-za’har?”
The reptilian glances up, and his yellow eyes shine before he widens a sharp-toothed grin.
30
-James-
The creature focuses on Chuck with smart, calculating eyes that seem to be five steps ahead.
“You know why we’re here,” Chuck growls more than speaks.
“It’s good to see you again, old friend,” the creature, Werhn-za’har, says in English, which is strange because he’s in a reptilian body that shouldn’t be able to vocalize words—none of the other reptilians could do that. Also, he should be speaking in his mother tongue. He isn’t in his original whisar body, so his voice wouldn’t melt my brain.
As if on cue, Werhn-za’har turns to me with an amused grin. “Common courtesy, James Bauman. And considering my original body has been likely found by the prime minister, I am, technically, dead. Since I’ll spend my remaining cycles in this vessel, I had to alter it accordingly, don’t you agree?”
Before I can ask why he changed vessels, Chuck steps forward, the menace of the mighty Ah’rbal-ack-to flowing from his straight posture and clenched muscles. “Tell us what you’ve done to Miriam.”
Werhn-za’har doesn’t seem threatened at all, instead he chuckles. “I turned her into my masterpiece, esteemed disciple.”
“I’m not your disciple anymore!” Chuck barks.
“A masterpiece?” I mumble to myself. Did Werhn-za’har seriously refer to my wife as a project?
Werhn-za’har ignores me completely. He peers at Chuck as if he had him in the palm of his hand. “A part of you wishes you could study my masterpiece, doesn’t it?” He lets out a dry laugh, and Chuck simply stands there, a hint of pain in his glistening emerald eyes. “You and I were always so alike...” Werhn-za’har clicks his forked tongue. “What went wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” Sol’ut-eh snarls in our minds.
Her free, unbroken arm shakes, but so does her entire body. Blue veins bulge from underneath the pale skin of her fisted hand.
He nods to Sol’ut-eh and grins, “I trust your rebels have been well?”
My blood chills, heart stops for a moment, and by Sol’ut-eh’s gaping eyes, she just experienced something similar.
Her voice wavers in our minds, this time weak, terrified. “You know?”
Werhn-za’har shrugs, a hint of disappointment hidden within the crinkles of his blue, leathery skin. “Do you think me a fool? I did not earn my fame by being misinformed.”
“Does that mean the prime minister might also know about us?” I ask, my attention on Sol’ut-eh because she’s about to lunge at Werhn-za’har and I can’t let her. “That he could be sending an armada to wipe us out right now?”
Another massacre, waiting to happen.
Werhn-za’har turns to me at once, his wattle flapping below his draconian snout. “The prime minister and the council know nothing, and this is how it will remain. Miriam is my masterpiece.”
The urge to punch him overwhelms me at once, but I control my nerves.
Sol’ut-eh steps forward, her hairless brow crinkling. “Do not lie. If they attack my base, I swear I’ll—”
“You will be silent,” he snaps, standing up. “I have no interest in petty warfare. I’ve risen above that.”
She sneers. “Above Famda Seven?”
“I did what I had to do to prevent a war.” There’s no glimmer of regret in his eyes. “You should be thanking me, you ignorant fool.”
Something in Sol’ut-eh’s mind snaps and she jolts at him, broken arm and all. I’m surprised she controlled herself for this long. She could finish Werhn-za’har even with one arm, and he’d deserve it, but she can’t do it now.
Using my power to stop her on her tracks, I say, “We need answers first.”
“I don’t care!”
I close the power tighter around her, and Sol’ut-eh stops mid-way, pushing her body forward. But she doesn’t move an inch.
Angry tears fill her eyes. “Thor’nack was EVERYTHING to me! Do not ask me to spare this monster!”
A sting of guilt pierces through my chest. It’s because of Werhn-za’har that Miriam is gone. I’d join Sol’ut-eh in beating the shit out of this cold bastard without thinking twice, but unlike Sol’ut-eh’s husband, there’s still hope for Miriam, and that hope is the same creature who took her from us.
If only Sol’ut-eh could see that…
Blinded by fury, she pushes against my power with her limited telekinesis. “Let me go, James!” Realizing it’s fruitless to go against me, she opens her mouth, intending to scream. The pain alone would send me to my knees and set her free. So I force the power around her small snout and snap it closed before that can happen.
“I’m sorry, Sol’ut-eh.” My voice a thin whisper.
“Magnificent!” Werhn-za’har shouts, eyes wide and chest puffing up and down. “Miri’et-eh passed some of her abilities to you! You must tell me how.” He laughs maniacally, a dry racket that’s close to what a turtle must sound like when it dies. “Oh, how I’d love to peel back your mind layer by layer.”
Red, blinding anger flows from me in waves. I’ve been through hell on an alien planet, acquired unwanted abilities and probably stopped being human, and I annihilated an entire village, all to meet this fucking asshole. Now he wants to ‘peel my mind back layer by layer’? My power snarls at Werhn-za’har like an angry wolf urging to attack.
I slam him against the cave wall with my mind, and then keep his thin, gangly body plastered against the rock. “Tell me how to bring back my wife!” The words burst through my throat and burn as they go.
“The things you can do, James Bauman.” A laugh rumbles within his chest. “And you’re only human, well, you were. It seems that my masterpiece made a masterpiece of her own.”
My mind’s power tightens around his throat, that familiar invisible hand coming to my aid. If he isn’t giving me willingly what I need, I’ll take it by force.
“Werhn-za’har,” Chuck jumps in, pulling at my arm as if to remind me that I’m not the kind of person who tortures others for information. For Miriam, though, I would. Chuck clears his throat, and I wonder if he just read my mind. “Altering Miriam’s vessel must’ve demanded a lot of work. It’s in both our interests to bring her back, is it not?”
He crackles a laugh. “Oh, Ah’rbal-ack-to, always trying to reason.”
“Bring her back, now!” I say, lips curled and fire bursting inside.
“Let me end him!” Sol’ut-eh pushes my invisible grip, and almost frees herself. I immediately wrap it tighter around her.
Werhn-za’har stares at me in a puzzled manner, as if he can’t quite understand what I’m saying. “You speak as if Miri’et-eh is gone, even though she’s right here, everywhere and nowhere at the same time.”
I turn around, and against my better judgement, hope blasts through my heart as I search for Miriam. But she’s not here.
“You obviously can’t find her in that manner,” Werhn-za’har says with the arrogance of someone who thinks they’re better than the rest of the universe.
“Shut up!” I bellow.
He chuckles quietly, as if he’s trying to contain his amusement. “I can’t bring her back, James Bauman.”
&n
bsp; Cold and squeezing agony crashes through my body. My legs weaken, forcing me to take a step back. “Y-you’re lying,” I mumble.
“I’m not,” he says. “I cannot bring your mate back.”
He forces the mental hold I have on him, and it cracks all too easily. My mind’s strength retreats, lacking any will to fight back against his telekinesis.
Sol’ut-eh breaks free too, but doesn’t push forward. She just stares at me with pity. Perhaps she sees herself in me, the same broken thing she became after she lost her mate.
“I-I don’t believe you,” I say, my voice quiet, terrified. “Miriam is out there somewhere.”
“Of course she is.” Werhn-za’har pats his arms, brushing off dirt from the cave’s wall. “I can’t bring her back, but perhaps you can.”
Huh?
“Miri’et-eh is smart.” He steps closer, hands behind his back. “When she gave you a fraction of her power, she left a part of her with you, although I suppose she has a part of you with her, so it’s irrelevant.” He shrugs. “It’s a link of sorts. Find it and tug at it. She should come to your calling.”
Confusion clouds my head. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”
He raises his hands and shoulders as if in surrender. I feel like slamming him against the cave’s wall again.
“Meditate,” Chucks says from behind. “Dig deep into your mind. It’s the only way.”
That didn’t help, but it’s not like I have an alternative.
“We’ll protect you,” Sol’ut-eh says, motioning me to come closer.
Werhn-za’har might try something funny while I meditate—the comment about dissecting my mind was all sorts of fucked up—so my friends will defend me if it comes to it. Sol’ut-eh especially might rip his throat out if he even breathes the wrong way. So I walk back to Chuck, Zed and Sol’ut-eh.
“I want Miri’et-eh back as much as any of you,” Werhn-za’har remarks with a raised brow and crossed arms. Still, my friends close me in a tight circle.
I shut my eyes. “Chuck, how do I do this?”
“Picture yourself swimming up and down in your own body. Like a pendulum.The rest should come to you.”