The Eye of Elektron: A Clean Urban Fantasy (The Sumrectian Series Book 1)

by Leigh G. Wynn

  His outburst startled Delia, who had forgotten about Kai during the conversation. “Where were you this evening, anyway?”

  Kai gestured to Ansel, smiling mischievously. “He suspected the Brightons might be in trouble, so he told me to move the family to a safer location before he and Dawn headed back to Chesterfield.”

  “You knew Quinn was coming after Ovra Brighton?” Dawn’s eyes widened.

  “No… I just had an inkling.”

  “What don’t you have an inkling about, Ansel?” Kai rolled his eyes.

  “Well, I certainly did not have an inkling that my glass orbs would glow at Dawn’s touch.” Ansel gave Dawn a long, peculiar look while the church filled with light after a flick of his wrist. “How did you learn of this ability?”

  “I didn’t.” Dawn explained how she found her mother’s Eye in the Vidra360 and how it came to life in her hands. He listened to her intently, his penetrating blue eyes searching hers, making her rather uneasy.

  “I see…” he mumbled when she finished.

  A question that had been lurking in the back of her mind throughout the evening soared to the forefront, but she hesitated to ask for fear of the answer she might receive. “Does that mean,” she inquired at last in a small voice, “the connection to our home reality… is back?”

  Both Kai and Delia froze in their movements, eagerly awaiting Ansel’s response. It was obvious they held similar suspicions.

  Ansel did not respond right away. He looked down and adjusted his injured shoulder, wincing as he did so. Then, after an anticipatory silence, he answered carefully, still keeping his eyes on the ground, “Your capabilities elude my current understanding. I made an Eye of Elektron for every human immigrant brave enough to venture into this new reality called Fors and start a life in uncharted territory. Every single Eye of Elektron came from Chesterfield. Each orb only responds to its owner’s unique essence, but”—he glanced up at Dawn—“ever since the destruction of the Source, they have responded to none… None except you, that is. And so, to answer your question… You must possess, at the very least, a definite connection to the Source.”

  Delia inhaled; she must have caught a deeper significance to Ansel’s response that Dawn was not yet aware of.

  “Then you must know why!” Kai could not contain his excitement.

  Brows knitted together in contemplation, Ansel bowed his head. “I have an inkling,” was all he said.

  “Why was Quinn looking for Ovra Brighton? Why was he so sure she was the bringer of new light?” Dawn asked.

  “Ovra does not possess the ability like you do, so she’s certainly not the ‘bringer of new light.’”

  That wasn’t what I asked.

  But before Dawn could probe further, Delia sighed and said, “Well, Quinn just got a better idea tonight who they are really after. I’m worried once Vance finds out, he will stop at nothing to get Dawn back into his grasp.”

  “Indeed. We have to be prepared and vigilant of any activity from Crimson.” Ansel nodded in agreement. “We must go.” As the membrane around the church lifted, noise from the outside world reminded them of the work that still needed to be done.

  Before heading out, Ansel stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned to Dawn, looking perturbed. “I’m afraid I must ask you to stay at Chesterfield for a while… for your safety. They will be searching for you… But of course, if you don’t feel comfortable, if you don’t trust me—what they say about me at Crimson isn’t all that comforting—I can make other arrangements for you… I need to meet with Lorenzo and check up on the town tonight, but Delia will take you back to Chesterfield, and she’s an incredibly powerful Sumrect, so you are safe in her hands. Plus, I can send over a few of my trusted Sumrects for protection… unless you would rather not have more Sumrects roaming about—”

  “I feel very safe here already. Thank you.” Dawn halted his rambling.

  Relief fell over his chiseled features. “Do you mean to say, you don’t think I will murder you in your sleep, or even worse, hold you captive as part of my covert master plan for world domination? Never underestimate the stories Vance tells you. They just might be true.”

  Dawn laughed, her eyes sparkling. “Something tells me, Ansel, that you are not at all like how you are portrayed.”

  ✽✽✽

  The curtains on every window were shut as tight as Regina’s pursed lips. She had double-checked and tripled-checked the lock on every door to make sure no one would barge in on this very important meeting. Light from the fireplace danced in the dark of her eyes as she grappled with the bombshell news her brother just shared.

  Quinn had just recounted to her, twice, in vivid detail, the events which took place at Chesterfield House. Regina remained frozen like a statue by her chair, hanging on to every word.

  “Human blood? Are you positive?” she asked as soon as he finished the second retelling.

  “For goodness’s sake, Regina. Yes, I saw with my own eyes,” Quinn said. “But can you explain to me why that was even at all possible?”

  “No… he would never…” She ignored his question and began pacing the room, mumbling to herself, “Could it be…? Trade complete… not the only one…” Around and around she went until she almost forgot Quinn’s presence.

  After about a minute, she halted inches away from his face, her expression hard to read. “Listen to me, Quinn, never mention this to Vance again. Do you hear me?”

  “I hear you, I hear you, but—”

  “Not a WORD! To me or anyone about what you saw that night!”

  “So,” Quinn said slowly, “it’s possible for a Sumrect to become… human?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying—”

  “You don’t suppose this has anything to do with an Etherian, do you?”

  “Ansel would never!” Regina stomped, as if to reassure herself of this fact.

  “Then why give up your powers—”

  “Shh! Not so loud!”

  “Plus, Vance already knows! And he will find out sooner or—”

  “Don’t you worry about Vance! He still doesn’t believe Ansel could be anything but his biggest adversary. Quinn, I beg you, as your sister, for your life and mine… Promise me, keep this to yourself.”

  Fear and urgency spilled from Regina’s eyes. She would never beg Quinn for anything unless she had truly come to a dead end. To keep this knowledge from Vance would not be easy, but with Quinn’s help, perhaps she could.

  He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I promise.”

  ✽✽✽

  A woman with an explosion of curly red hair huddled in the back corner of her holding cell, motionless.

  “Who is she?” Myles asked as he watched her on a nine-inch digital screen.

  “Gail Thornton.” Vance flashed a pearly white sneer from his leather seat, legs stretched and feet crossed on top of a platinum table.

  “I thought you took care of her.”

  “Upon consideration, I’ve decided she could help me—help us.”

  “Us?”

  From the way his ears popped during his blindfolded commute down, Myles figured they were somewhere deep underground. The Crimson guard who transported him here offered no explanation. He knew better than to ask why.

  “You said you wanted Dawn. How is Gail supposed to help me accomplish that?”

  “She won’t.” Vance leaned back in his chair across the table. “However, if you bring Gail, a Pathfinder, back to Ansel, as he instructed you to do, the suspicions he has been having about you will be cleared.”

  “He suspects nothing,” said Myles, even though he knew it was far from the truth. That Ansel had yet to confront Myles about his occasional disappearance meant the Sumrect was not one to be deceived easily.

  “I’d be a fool to underestimate my brother. If he didn’t suspect you, why would he burn Gail’s note without looking at its contents—without letting you read it? Why didn’t he notify you when he made a sudden trip back to
Chesterfield?”

  “Ansel is never one to announce his plans.”

  “It’s your job to make sure he shares his plans to you…”

  Myles swallowed, cold beads of sweat shimmering on his forehead.

  “Have you forgotten what’s at stake here?” Vance studied him like a worn-out toy.

  “Tell me why I should keep you and your family alive if you are no longer proving yourself useful—”

  “Ansel can see everything that happens at Crimson Estate. He has been maintaining surveillance on you for years!”

  “Come again?” Vance squinted at Myles.

  “He has an entire room at Chesterfield, hidden and accessible only by a select few… Praedean Rudio… it contains a detailed, live hologram of the entire Estate.”

  Vance swiveled away from the image of Gail on the digital screen and threw his head back in laughter. “Thank you, Ansel!”

  He kept laughing while Myles stared at the Sumrect, baffled.

  “May I ask why?”

  “For handing me back control of the game!”

  “Would you like me to access the room?”

  “Oh no, no, no, silly human! We’re trying to build Ansel’s trust in you, not wreck it!”

  On the screen above him, Gail paced the cell.

  “Before the week is over, you will have regained Ansel’s trust, and the bearer of light will return to Crimson of her own volition, and I… will be one step closer to victory.”

  The euphoria Vance exuded worsened the nausea in Myles’s stomach, but he was much too good in his work to let discomfort spoil a calm exterior.

  “Tell me what to do, Atma.”

  With a flourishing of his arms, Vance cast a glistening bubble around them both. Myles knew Ansel could see their every move, but he would not hear through a veilasim. Vance threw a nonchalant glance at the digital screen and took out a small black leather box from under the table. “You shall take this woman to Ansel. Tell him you rescued her from the holding cell without my knowledge.”

  “All this trouble for a former worker? Why risk letting loose the leader of the resistance movement?” Myles did not see the logic behind Vance’s reasoning.

  “There will be no resistance once I complete the spell! But for me to do so, I need you to obtain one more thing…”

  He handed Myles the leather box.

  “Open it.”

  Accentuated with gold rims, the box weighed heavy in Myles’s hands. He ran his fingers along the smooth edges until he found a circular button. He pressed, and slowly, the top of the box opened, revealing a golden velvet interior and a lemon topaz about the size of a golf ball.

  “You probably already know… what you hold in your hands is a gateway to my past. I’ve allowed you access to this particular portal in time.”

  Shocked, Myles’s head sprang up to assess Vance for any signs of deception.

  “You are not to say a word about this portal to anyone. Understand?”

  Myles gave a slow nod. By entrusting me this stone, he must want something infinitely more valuable in exchange.

  “Ansel alone holds crucial information related to the casting of the Etherian spell. Your job is to find and bring me the portal in which he was alone.”

  “He’ll never give that to me! And he must have had hundreds of them… solitary walks, Sunday afternoons in the park… How will I know which one to look for? And why would he show me?”

  Slamming a hand on the table, Vance lunged forward. “That’s for you to figure out, human! Perhaps you need some motivation?” His glare could have cut through steel.

  “No, sir.” Myles gritted his teeth to keep his anger in check.

  “Good. I thought so.” Vance settled back into the chair once more. Sometimes, his workers frustrated him with their idiocy.

  “Tonight, at eight fifty, the guard outside Gail’s cell will take his bathroom break, during which you will enter the cell to rescue Gail. The remaining guard will try to stop you in appearance, but in actuality, on orders from me, he will assist you. A Vidra720, fit for two people, will be made ready for you by the forest, bound for Chesterfield. The next time I see you, human, I hope you bring along a portal to Ansel’s past.”

  Vance set his hands on the table and interlaced his fingers.

  “Did I make myself clear?”

  “Extremely,” Myles replied. He pocketed the leather box and turned to leave.

  “And remember, human, this is your last assignment. If you accomplish what I set you out to do, your family goes free once and for all. You have my word.”

  Myles paused with his back toward Vance to hide the disgust on his face. Then, without responding, he walked to the guard at the door and allowed the Sumrect to blindfold him once more.

  ✽✽✽

  As Vance watched his pawn depart, an inexplicable feeling of excitement bubbled inside of him. Despite how much he hated to admit that humans had any capabilities aside from lifting bricks and shoving dirt, he knew Myles never failed him. Over these past years, the human consistently delivered valuable information—information which had helped Vance get within inches of the finish line.

  Soon, Vance thought, Ansel will finally be history.

  Chapter 8

  Dawn spent most of the next few days helping with relief efforts. Ansel had set up a temporary shelter just outside Chesterfield where Delia, Nico, Winston and a few other Sumrects treated burned and injured victims. Meanwhile, he and Lorenzo helped to rebuild homes.

  When Dawn was not assisting Delia with patient care, she was with Ansel and Kai, distributing food and clothing to those in need. She suspected Ansel had purposefully arranged it so either he or Delia was always by her side.

  From conversations with Phyon locals, she learned that most current residents were like her, saved and transported here after being sentenced to death at Tempeia. When Vance exiled his brother, he hand-selected the most powerful Sumrect soldiers from Crimson and stationed them at Phyon to keep watch over Ansel. Vile and merciless, not at all different from those still controlling Tempeia, the Phyon soldiers, upon arriving at Chesterfield, found their plans to dominate the humans completely thwarted by a Sumrect who envisioned a much different reality where humans and Sumrects lived in harmony. That was the vision the immigrants adopted when they first arrived in Fors, a newly discovered reality between Earth and Panatomius advertised at the time as readily inhabitable and laden with potential.

  While Ansel stayed true to this vision, Vance did not.

  At Phyon, Ansel forbid the Sumrects to interfere with the day-to-day operations of the townspeople, and that was that. The Sumrects knew better than to test his limits.

  To the utter amazement and relief of Phyon residents, not only were the Sumrects too afraid to enforce a system of oppression, most switched allegiance over time. Dawn remembered what Kai had said about Sumrects valuing power above all else and wondered if it was Ansel’s unparalleled power that provided him extra influence over Vance’s soldiers.

  “It has got to be the power thing. They are terrified of him!” A middle-aged man said earnestly to her one afternoon.

  “Maybe they are secretly planning to overthrow Vance,” yet another remarked. “I really hope they do.”

  An elderly woman seemed to suggest otherwise. “Power contributed to their shift in loyalty, I’m sure. The Phyon Sumrects must fear Ansel on some level. But Vance has immense following everywhere else, so although Ansel may be powerful, he still stands no chance against Vance’s entire Sumrectian forces combined. It is extremely dangerous for the Sumrects to switch allegiance, in my opinion. If you were to ask me, they did so not because they were afraid”—leaning in close to Dawn, the old lady pointed a finger at her own chest—“but because they saw Ansel had heart. He shared the sort of compassion characteristic of our species, and let me tell you something, that’s power without limit.”

  The old lady smiled. “You just wait and see. One day, Ansel will rid us of Vance for good. He’
ll help us find our way home.”

  No wonder Vance had launched an attack on Phyon and confiscated every Eye of Elektron he could find. By removing their only means of returning home, he could now dangle any false hope in front of the immigrants, and many would bite. Dawn was stunned by the great number of Phyon residents who believed Ansel will one day liberate them from tyranny and restore freedom to the humans.

  If they only knew he would soon be human like one of us, she thought.

  She often chatted with Ansel while they worked. He was not nearly as taciturn as Kai had warned; if the topic interested him, the conversation flowed. However, he did tend to shy away from certain subjects, such as the paintings in his study and any mention of the Etherian spell.

  He also seemed very curious about her past. How did she grow up? When did she learn to paint? What was it like to work at Crimson? He listened to her story with fascination, occasionally asking her for more details.

  “Though I managed to keep my promise to my parents,” Dawn told him one day, looking deep into his eyes, “I wanted revenge and was consumed by it. I still am. I cannot forgive the evil and injustice brought upon the humans. My parents came to Fors in search of a better future, but they found only despair and deception. For a long time, I harbored horrendous thoughts… as a way to self-protect and dull the feeling of powerlessness. I stopped seeing beauty, stopped hoping. I was just living, one day at a time.”

  Amidst the oppression and injustice, art opened her eyes to a world worth noticing. Gradually, through oil and canvas, brush and blend, she learned to appreciate beauty again.

  “Beauty is everywhere if you know where to look. That’s what I reminded myself every day at Crimson Estate,” she said, baffled by her own outpouring, but Ansel’s encouraging gaze told her he understood.

  He shook his head, eyes wide. “You astounded me ever since I first laid eyes on your portrait of Moira.”

  The comment caused her to turn bright red, and she struggled to find a suitable response.

  Ansel chuckled. “Loss and trial, the kind that rattles your worldview and chisels at your character, present forks in the road—opportunities to choose. Some choose to rise above suffering, to morph it into something sublime, good and worthy. Others drown in self-pity and self-loathing, forever suffocating in a sea of regret. You belong with the former. Somehow, despite how much you resented Sumrects and how much you wished revenge upon our kind, you still captured Moira’s innocent beauty. You noticed. You brought it my—our—attention.”