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

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The Eye of Elektron: A Clean Urban Fantasy (The Sumrectian Series Book 1) Page 13

by Leigh G. Wynn


  Ansel gave a humorless chuckle, not removing his eyes from Dawn. “That was the easy part. Now we get to the real fun.”

  The empty Morvyann emitted another deafening sound before it began to rotate in the sand. As the edge of the platform top glowed red, Ansel forced Dawn behind a massive fallen tree trunk.

  “Stay. Down.” He emphasized each word.

  In one fluid motion, he leaped over the trunk and gestured for Blair to move with him. For once, Blair complied.

  The Morvyann came to a sluggish stop in its turn, baring its side to the Sumrects. The red lights bordering the platform changed to bright yellow at first, then white, and finally, a rich blue like Ansel’s shield. Dawn’s stomach sank when she realized what was happening.

  The vessel was heating up for a second round of attacks.

  Chapter 12

  The Morvyann fired. Blue electric currents showered down upon the Sumrects, striking some unconscious. Although Delia and Blair shielded in time, the powerful currents still sent them tumbling backward to where Dawn hid behind a trunk. Morvs now crowded half the beach. As the Morvyann breathed, churned and heated up again, panic spread through Nico’s crew like wildfire.

  Blair scrambled back to her feet, cursing loud enough for everyone to hear.

  Incensed, Ansel’s blue eyes burned with wrath. Brows knitted into one, he muttered in Sumrectian until a pale blue dome fell over Dawn, Delia and Blair, enclosing them. Energy pulsed and coursed through the dome, which blocked shots from the Morvs.

  “Hey! Hey!” Blair hollered, waving her hands frantically for Ansel to let her out.

  “He can’t hear you,” Delia said coolly as she made herself comfortable on the trunk.

  “But he can see me!” Blair persisted in her arm flailing. “Plus, he needs our help.”

  “Humph! You, dear, are certainly more distracting than helpful. I know Ansel. He prefers to take on Morvyanns alone.”

  Dawn climbed over the trunk. “Ansel has taken on many of these in the past. He’ll be alright.”

  “Who asked for your input, human?” Blair snapped. “No need to tell me what I already know.”

  Dawn was about to fire back with a snarky comment when, up ahead, an explosion of light between Ansel and the Morvyann swallowed the entire beach. She cowered on impulse, squinting at the light in front of her. The blinding brightness lasted ten long seconds, during which the entire dome hummed with the note C and rippled with force from the blast. Next to her, Blair covered her ears with both hands, mouthing inaudible words.

  When the light dimmed, Dawn saw Ansel, still standing no more than a hundred feet away from the ashen vessel with an incinerated platform. The explosion was so powerful many Morvs now sprawled immobile on the sand. The blue dome fizzled out, and as though someone suddenly jacked up the volume, the air filled with sounds of whistling, cheering and chanting of Ansel’s name. Many Sumrects threw their hands up and produced sparklers to signal their small victory.

  One down, two more to go.

  “That was spectacular! Just like how I remembered you in your tournaments!” Blair sprinted to Ansel and tossed her arms around him in a fervent embrace. Ansel appeared less enthusiastic.

  “No other Sumrect in all of Panatomius could have defeated a Morvyann single-handedly,” Delia said to Dawn. There was no mistaking the look of esteem on the old Sumrect’s face.

  Dawn clapped and cheered with the Sumrects. A bizarre, nervous rush of emotion filled her entire being. She wanted nothing more than to hug Ansel as Blair did and tell him how amazed she was at what he had just accomplished. She wished she had Blair’s unreserved audacity and unhindered expression. Yet something held her back. She waited, unmoving.

  Was it because he was a Sumrect, and she, a human? Was it because she knew a world of differences existed between them? For years, brainwashed into believing that the superhumans were somehow a superior, more worthy species, Dawn lived in constant reminder of her inferior status to the Sumrects. How could the most powerful, most revered Sumrect from Panatomius be at all interested in an uninteresting, weak human like her? Average, plain and easily replaceable, Dawn was quite certain Ansel could never feel the same way about her as she did about him.

  Plus, she did not even know how she felt about him.

  In the distance, Ansel waved, giving her and Delia the thumbs-up while Sumrects continued to celebrate amidst the fight with streaks of sparklers and zealous chanting of their hero’s name.

  Unfortunately, their celebration was short-lived.

  ✽✽✽

  Regina watched the sparklers fly ten thousand miles away. In fact, she had witnessed Ansel’s protective dome—the sturdiest vunn she had seen in a long time—and his impressive lucean against the Morvyanns through Quinn’s camera, which was clipped to the front of his shirt. She had to admit, some human gadgets proved rather useful.

  Her mind flashed to the first time she saw Ansel perform the lucean. Only sixteen in Sumrect years, he had already established himself as a blue Sumrect—much earlier than his father’s transformation at twenty-two and Vance’s, days before his arrival on Earth. As an elite, blue shield Sumrect herself, Regina had grown accustomed to seeing remarkable displays of power, but Ansel’s devastatingly beautiful lucean astounded her, engulfed her in wonder. The only Sumrect in the past thousand years to turn indigo, Ansel was a natural, a born warrior meant for greatness unlike any the history books had ever seen. She knew then, without a doubt, that he would one day rule Panatomius.

  What a shame that things turned out the way they did. To the undiscerning public, Ansel Cassadian had no limits, no Achilles heel. However, Regina knew better. Ever since his first encounter with Amber Chesterfield on that fateful summer day, she knew.

  Ansel could be defeated and would be defeated.

  ✽✽✽

  Forty minutes earlier, Myles left a still unconscious Gail at Chesterfield under Mary’s care and headed for Basil Brighton’s residence. If anyone had information about Ansel’s mysterious past, it would be Basil. Ansel never revealed much about his relationship with the Brightons, but Myles could not overlook the extent to which Ansel labored to protect the Brightons over the past eleven years.

  The atmosphere in the town was tense. As he arrived at the wooden house, hands tucked into his jean’s pockets, attempting to look casual, he heard rattled exchanges among passersby. From their conversations, he realized Vance had wasted no time in launching an attack upon Phyon.

  He knocked on the door and waited. No one answered or moved inside. He knocked again. Still no answer.

  When the road cleared for a brief while, he glanced back to make sure nobody was watching and turned the knob. Much to his surprise, the door opened.

  Had someone been here earlier?

  “Basil? Francesca?” He stuck his head into the dwelling.

  With minimal furnishings, the house looked exactly like how he had remembered it. Cramped. Dark. Much too small for a family of five. After receiving no response, he tiptoed into the empty living room adjoining a tiny kitchen. He scanned the entire living space and did not see a single soul. A golden opportunity arose.

  Quietly and carefully, he checked every drawer and cabinet in the house, hoping to find clues that would help him locate Ansel’s portal. He even felt around inside the fireplace for abnormalities in the structure.

  Nothing. Only dust and cobwebs.

  The Brightons must have moved away with all their belongings when Quinn came searching for the bearer of new light. Disappointed, Myles almost gave up when something in the bedroom caught his eye.

  There in the corner, leaning against the wall on top of a small wooden desk, was a medium-sized portrait of the same fair-haired girl in Ansel’s old study, posing before a tapestry that featured an ornately embellished symbol of the Eye. She appeared to be holding something in her hands, but bullet holes ruined the entire bottom of the portrait.

  What is she doing here? Stunned, Myles moved toward the painti
ng, hypnotized by the girl’s large, inviting eyes. He was so absorbed by the painting that he had not noticed the old, yellowed, hardcover album on the floor until he nearly stepped on it. He leaped back in alarm. Someone was here.

  Heart pounding, Myles picked up the album and ran his fingers over the engraved surname, Brighton, on the cover. He flipped through the contents in a hurry. Perhaps, the old photographs held the answers he sought. However, his excitement faded with every turn of the page; the photos were mainly of the Brighton kids, Opal, Oakley, and Ovra, as toddlers. Nothing helpful here either.

  Then, as he turned over the last page, he again saw her, the mysterious young woman in the paintings.

  And Ansel. Above a Brighton family photo.

  In the shot, the girl had her head on Ansel’s shoulder. She beamed at the camera while Ansel grinned with closed eyes. Myles was shocked to see him not wearing all black for once. He read the handwritten caption on the bottom left corner of the picture sleeve, and his jaw fell open.

  Aunt and Uncle, Amber and Ansel Cassadian

  Amber is related to the Brightons?

  A muffled sneeze followed by a creak broke the silence. Myles shot to his feet. The heavy album slid out of his grasp and landed on the floor with a loud thud.

  “Who’s there?” he said.

  Another muffled sneeze came from below his feet.

  As he stepped over a latch on the wooden floorboards, a throat-clenching realization dawned on Myles: He was not alone in the house. Alarmed, he pulled out a silver, cylindrical weapon from his belt. Meanwhile, his feet hooked onto the brass latch on the floorboards and kicked it open.

  “Don’t move!” He pointed his gun at the intruder crouched in the secret underground cavern.

  ✽✽✽

  Dawn barely had a chance to return Ansel’s thumbs-up before a massive force knocked the wind out of her lungs, crushed her to the ground and pressed her arms into her body.

  “Why, hello there, pretty human.” Quinn’s twisted face blocked the midday sun.

  “You!”

  “Happy to see me?”

  She was most certainly not.

  Neither was Ansel.

  In a blur of black, he threw himself at Quinn with so much momentum the two Sumrects hurled backward in an arch and crashed into the trees. Dawn rolled to avoid being smashed by gigantic pines toppling over.

  “Stay right there, Dawn!” Ansel bellowed above the clamor.

  She could not have moved even if she wanted to. An invisible rope bound her from head to toe. She strained her neck to the right in time to see a group of brown leather clad Sumrects pour out from the forest. Among them was Winston, locked in combat with one of Quinn’s soldiers. She saw Morvs make their way up the beach, gaining strength with every step. She saw Nico’s Sumrects react in shock at the arrival of Crimson soldiers.

  We are in trouble, she thought, engaged in a futile struggle against Quinn’s bondage.

  Flashes of blue light preceded the explosion from deep within the heart of the forest. The earth rumbled beneath Dawn’s body. At that instant, the suffocating bind around her disappeared. Ansel must have knocked out Quinn.

  She scrambled to her feet. How are the Morvs able to distinguish among the Sumrects and not attack Vance’s soldiers? She noticed a Morv pause with its weapon pointed at a tall soldier and instead of firing, redirect its aim to Nico, whose white shield flickered when the electricity struck. The same Morv then turned to her. Dawn’s heart quickened at the sight of its eerie, faceless head.

  The creature stood motionless for a second before it switched to target Winston and fired.

  “They cannot detect humans,” Ansel had said to Mary.

  An idea popped into Dawn’s head. I need to get inside the Morvyanns. She broke into a run straight for the Morvs.

  Or at least she tried.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of Quinn’s Sumrects hurl a ball of yellow electricity at her. She made to duck, but before she could, a set of powerful arms wrapped around her as a veil of blue light deflected the yellow aedius.

  “Ansel!” In all the pandemonium, she still noticed he smelled of wood and spices.

  He spun her around without a word and forced her back against the fallen trunk so that his body sheltered hers completely. A white electric current from the Morvs crackled against his blue shield, creating a spray of sparks. Another scraped over their heads.

  Lost in his piercing eyes, inches from her own, Dawn felt his heart beating against hers. A very strange thing happened then. The Sumrects disappeared. The Morvs vanished. Sudden peace washed over the beach. Doused in a glorious red wine sunset, calm waves caressed the sand.

  Have I been here before?

  “Don’t worry, I’m here,” he whispered in her ear.

  What’s happening?

  She squeezed her eyes shut. When she reopened them, the sunset disappeared, and the Morvyanns still towered over the beach. Lorenzo and Nico were shouting back and forth as each vaporized a row of Morvs. Ansel had looked away, but his blue shield still enclosed him and Dawn in a tight cocoon.

  “Where were you going?”

  “To the Morvyanns.”

  “Dawn, I told you—”

  “Look, there’s something I can do to help. With Vance’s soldiers here, your Sumrects are fighting a losing battle.”

  Ansel’s eyes flashed. “You are not going inside the Morvyanns.”

  “You said so yourself! They can’t detect anything human. If I sneak inside, I can shut them down.”

  “I was afraid you would have some crazy idea like that!”

  “It’s not crazy! It’s your best option.”

  Another current ran through the shield, causing it to vibrate.

  “My best option? To risk your life?”

  “To save your Sumrects and our people!”

  “No,” he replied brusquely. “I won’t allow it.”

  Before Dawn could press further, Blair ran up to them, her hair no longer sleek but matted with dirt. She looked dazed.

  “Ansel! Nico’s down! Delia and Lorenzo are surrounded. We need you on the rightmost Morvyann. Now!”

  She did not spare Dawn a glance.

  In the distance, Morvs appeared to be swallowing the entire beach.

  Ansel gave Dawn one last, long, hard look and implored quietly, “Please. For my sake.”

  The shield lifted, and he started muttering underneath his breath. Dawn knew what would happen next. A blue dome would materialize. It would shut her inside, away from the Morvs, away from Vance’s soldiers and all the harm that could potentially befall her. But she was not going to let that happen again.

  Sorry, Ansel.

  Before the dome could fully form, she broke through the charging electric wall. Stinging pain jolted her entire body as she penetrated the dome, but she did not stop. She kept running toward the barricade of faceless Morvs.

  She heard Ansel call her name, but when she glanced back, she saw him locked in combat with three Crimson soldiers. A ball of electricity flew past her ear, missing her head by mere centimeters. Another burned a hole through her dress. She delved into a group of shielding Phyon Sumrects, hoping the chaotic shots from the Morvs would distract her Sumrect pursuer. The plan seemed to work.

  As she weaved through the sea of silver creatures, she felt invisible. I AM invisible. Their sizzling skin burned against hers when she accidentally brushed against some of them in passing. Together, their heat acted like a furnace, and before long, she was soaked in sweat.

  The amorphous hole in the Morvyann’s belly stayed open with Morvs crowding the entrance, weapons at the ready. Up close, their silver skin resembled fluid, molten lava, their dark sensor bands, like obsidian.

  As expected, they did not detect Dawn’s presence; she was merely a rock or a tree, an insignificant component of their environment.

  Here we go.

  Covering her face with her arms, Dawn threw herself at the Morvs.

 
Chapter 13

  A howling storm raged at Crimson, dumping a foot of powdery snow in mere hours. Next to the fireplace, Vance stared at his own clean-shaven reflection on the glossy meeting table. He ran a hand over his hair, self-consciously smoothing down his already perfectly parted golden locks.

  He glanced at the time and tapped his fingers to the rhythm of that popular tune from William Tell Overture.

  11:43 PM.

  His guest was almost fifteen minutes late. Annoyed and somewhat apprehensive about the meeting, Vance made sure, for the third time, that all the doors and windows were locked, and no guards were patrolling the hallway. He muttered something in Sumrectian, and an icy substance covered the walls and ceiling.

  One could never be too careful with eavesdroppers.

  A chilling breeze raised rows of goose bumps on Vance’s arm. The roaring fire in the fireplace dwindled to a pitiful flame before it snuffed out completely. Vance cleared his throat nervously while he focused on the shimmering air above the table.

  His guest had finally arrived.

  First, a pair of pale, slender hands materialized, followed by a pearly white boot which poked out from the bottom of a floor-length gray robe. Next, a face took form, smooth as marble and white as snow, with sunken cheeks and black hollow eye sockets instead of eyes. Vance flinched as he always did whenever he saw those bottomless pits. He found it hard to imagine that Etherians were once Sumrects like him. How unfortunate they must dwell in bodies of the dead in order to be seen in this dimension.

  “Welcome, Praeus.” Vance forced a congenial smile.

  “Ah, sorry to keep you waiting, Vance,” Praeus said, careful to articulate the syllables, his voice as silky as his skin. Typical of an Etherian.

  “No pro-buh-lem. I just got here.”

  That was a lie. He had been waiting since the half hour, but Vance knew better than to display his usual bratty antics in the presence of an Etherian.

  He gestured to one of the leather chairs at the table. “Have a seat.”

 

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