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

by Leigh G. Wynn

  “Etherians never sit.” Praeus was quick with his response.

  “Alright then. You can stand. How about some tea?” Vance motioned to the ceramic tea set on the table.

  “Etherians do not drink hot tea.”

  “Hmm.”

  “How’s Regina?” Praeus strolled around the table, causing Vance to shift uncomfortably in his leather chair.

  “Just fine, thanks. Same as always.”

  “And your brother?”

  “Alive. Regrettably. But I’m working on it.”

  “Good… No pressure or anything. How’s the little one?”

  Vance’s patience was running low, and the tone of his voice was sour when he spoke. “Look, Praeus, I didn’t call you here to have a nice little chitchat, so let’s cut to the point, shall we? The longer you stay, the higher the risk of our plan being discovered!”

  “After all that we have done, you are still afraid of getting caught, eh?” Praeus appeared to be mocking him.

  “Not afraid,” Vance snapped. “I don’t want to jeopardize our work. Ansel keeps an eye on my every move.”

  Praeus sniggered. “Afraid or not, you have good company in your delinquency.”

  “What do you mean?” Vance turned his head sharply, one eyebrow hanging higher than the other.

  “Your brother, it seems, has also been in contact with an Etherian.”

  “When? Recently?”

  This was one piece of information Vance did not expect to hear. Regina had mentioned it in the past, but he never believed her. He knew all too well how much Ansel resented those soulless creatures and could not even picture him in the same room as an Etherian without there being a fight.

  “We have been investigating a mysterious case involving the death of one of us.”

  “I thought Etherians were already dead.” Vance narrowed his eyes at Praeus.

  “Even though we do not operate among the living, we also do not mesh with the dead. We exist… somewhere in between. Real death is rare among us Etherians. We’ve only discovered this phenomenon of late, of course, and the finding has become a sensation among our members. Caused quite a stir, actually. Riots. Demands for change. We cannot be sure as of now whether the death was an act of suicide or murder, but we have ruled out natural causes and accidents… by default.”

  “Well, good luck with the case,” Vance said in haste, “and since it doesn’t pertain to the land of the living, can we move on to the purpose of our meeting?” His uneasy eyes darted to the windows.

  “Not just yet. I believe this case pertains not only to the land of the living but to us. You and me.”

  Vance frowned but gave Praeus his full attention once more.

  The Etherian continued smugly, “As part of the investigation, we’ve delved into the deceased’s collection of time portals for clues that may help us solve the case. You see, one period of her past has been stolen. Eradicated. Gone.”

  Vance sat up straighter in his seat.

  “The victim could not have removed it herself because the entrance to the portal is still intact, but the history has vanished… along with her memory of the event.” Praeus stopped pacing and turned to “look” at Vance. “We believe someone powerful has been in contact with this particular Etherian. Someone not of us but of the living. Someone, like you, who has broken the law.”

  “Ansel…” The name escaped from Vance’s lips in a rush of disbelief. “You think my goody-two-shoes brother meddled with this Etherian’s time portals?”

  “Aside from us, who can accomplish such a feat? And in such a skillful manner too, with the precision of a masterful time crafter? Of course, the technique used seems foreign, unlike anything we are familiar with. Tell me, if this doesn’t sound like the doing of Ansel Cassadian, then who?”

  Praeus had a point. Very few Sumrects, if any, could manipulate the past once it had been formed, an area of expertise that belonged exclusively to the Etherians. Sinister powers, as his father used to call it. Of course, Ansel had always been the exception to any norm, pushing the limits of Sumrect abilities into uncharted—and perhaps precarious—territories. If Praeus was right in his assumption that Ansel had not only contacted but tinkered with the past of an Etherian, then Ansel had committed a crime of profound magnitude. If this was true, what could possibly be his motive?

  “Your inferences are all reasonable, except it is incongruent with Ansel’s character to interact with your kind. I’m sure you are not unaware of this fact.”

  Praeus sniffed. “Pumpernickel! You sure have a much too naïve view of your brother.”

  “Honestly, Praeus, he is the biggest prude—”

  “Perhaps only in outer appearance. A nifty facade. Perhaps he has good reason to distrust himself with his powers. Perhaps, just like you and I, he is also driven by personal desires…”

  “Impossible. You don’t know him like I do. There’s not a selfish bone in his body.”

  Praeus curved his bloodless lips into something that loosely resembled a smile. “Ah, but I believe you will change your mind when I tell you when this missing portal was formed.”

  Vance’s mind churned while he poured himself a cup of tea. “Convince me.”

  “The removed memory came from the tenth year of the Lion.”

  Clunk. Vance slammed the pot onto the table, blood gone from his face. Tenth year of the Lion. Not only did the year ring a bell, but he also knew the exact date of the incident Praeus was referring to—55th Light. This was the portal he had sent Myles on a mission to acquire. The decisions he made on that fateful day still haunted him. The passage of time had neither dulled his memory nor ameliorated the aching consequences of his choices. He also understood why Praeus suspected Ansel; if there was one Sumrect whose life had been forever changed by the events of that day, more so than his own, it would be his despicable brother.

  That Ansel had taken great effort to hide from Vance something he already knew about was disconcerting. It made him nervous. Very nervous.

  “It is important for us, Vance, to access that portal.”

  “Of course, of course! Except we can’t. Because it no longer exists,” replied Vance tersely.

  “I believe the lost portal has more than one contributor, and thus more than one owner.”

  The wind wailed desperately, shaking the windowpane in angry bursts. Praeus circled the table again, his gray robes gliding over the marble floor. The rhythmic steps of his white boots magnified Vance’s silence.

  After the Etherian completed one revolution, Vance asked, “Do you mean to say that another version of this past exists?”

  “That’s what I meant to say.”

  “And are you implying that Ansel currently holds a copy of this past?” Vance played dumb.

  “Very likely.”

  “You want me to obtain the contents of that portal from my brother.” Vance stared straight into Praeus’s hollow eye sockets.

  As Praeus placed his slender white hands on the table, a sheet of ice emanated from his fingers and spread outwards like an enormous cobweb. Vance shivered from the sudden drop in temperature.

  “It is crucial that we obtain the contents.” The Etherian hissed, curling his pale lips. “Our plan leaves no room for mistakes or oversight. We are too close to success to be thwarted by Ansel Cassadian.”

  Praeus had been a tremendous help the past eleven years, and now, they stood, together, on the brink of triumph.

  “We will have the portal. I guarantee it.”

  ✽✽✽

  It only took Myles a split second to recognize the intruder with his spiked brown hair and round hazel eyes.

  “Don’t shoot!”

  “Kai! For heaven’s sake! What in the world are you doing in Brighton’s house?” Myles took a step back and turned off his weapon. He quickly extended a hand to hoist the boy out of the cavern.

  “What were you doing?” Myles frowned. His eyes fell on a velvet box in Kai’s hand.

  “I-I was jus
t doing some research…”

  Kai was about to slide the velvet box into the pocket of his jeans when Myles grabbed his wrist.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “In-In the cavern.” Kai swallowed.

  “Therefore, it belongs to Basil Brighton, which means you have no business touching it,” Myles said sternly. “Hand it over.”

  “Okay, okay!” Kai dropped the box into Myles’s outstretched hand. Looking indignant, Kai grumbled, “Just because I found it in Brighton’s house does not prove that it belongs to Brighton. Look at the engraving.”

  Untouched for years and wrapped in a thick layer of dust, the purple velvet box was completely unadorned except for the following tiny, golden engravings:

  “Ealon Shailah Cassadian,” he read aloud.

  “What?!” Kai exclaimed as soon as the Sumrectian words were spoken.

  Careful to control his excitement, Myles said in a quivering voice, “Ansel’s name in Sumrectian. This box belongs to him.”

  ✽✽✽

  Dawn clenched her jaw while she pushed through a sea of burning hot Morvs. They did not pay her the slightest attention. Once inside the Morvyann’s belly, she swerved left, away from the line stretching hundreds of feet deep into the vessel. Hot steam filled the chamber, making it hard to breathe.

  Where are the controls? She peered through the steam. There were no windows or exits aside from the hole she had just squeezed through. It did not take her long to settle on a course of action; there was no other way to go except inward.

  I must hurry, or I’ll soon be broiled meat, she thought, sweating as though she entered a sauna.

  All the Morvs faced the exit. Every ten seconds, the line moved up as a new group of silver soldiers exited the belly. Additional lines extended into corridors on the right side. Dawn crept down the long passage, trying not to come into contact with the sizzling walls and awaiting Morvs.

  One hundred feet. Two hundred feet. Three hundred feet later, still no sign of the control room. The only measurable change in her immediate surrounding was the temperature, which climbed higher the deeper she ventured into the Morvyann.

  Then, four hundred feet later, at the end of the passage, she spotted a rusty metal staircase that spiraled up to the platform above. That must be it! She darted toward the stairs, gasping for air. I hope there aren’t more of these creatures on the second floor.

  Fortunately, when she emerged from the suffocating lower level into a much cooler room, she spotted no additional Morvs. Unusual machines lined the windowless room. Some displayed words in Sumrectian. Some displayed no words at all.

  In the center rose a colossal basin, above which hovered a detailed, colored hologram of Morvs and Sumrects engaged in combat on the beach. The hologram gave Dawn a complete bird’s-eye view of the chaos below. Her eyes fell on the conspicuous blue cocoon around Ansel Cassadian. He seemed to be still locked in a fight with ten or so Crimson Sumrects.

  Vance’s soldiers. Although she knew they were no match for Ansel, she still shuddered at the extent to which Vance would go to control his own brother.

  Why? What happened between them for Vance to harbor so much hatred toward Ansel?

  She recalled Delia’s description of her kind and their unquenchable thirst for power. She remembered how Ansel distrusted even his own prodigious gifts, so much so he built Chesterfield to protect Amber against himself. I know terribly little about the Sumrects, she thought. It was difficult enough to comprehend human nature and motives, let alone that of an entirely different species. And yet, during the unexpected interlude on the beach, when Ansel was mere inches away from her, she felt as if she understood him better than anyone.

  Shaking away the distraction to concentrate on the task at hand, Dawn searched the basin up and down but found only smooth metal. She scanned the control panel covered with buttons labeled in Sumrectian and had no idea which to push. Frustrated, she returned to the holograms. Even from her overhead view, she knew the situation had taken a turn for the worse. Lorenzo and Delia stood back-to-back, surrounded by a crowd of faceless robots. Nico was nowhere to be seen. With her long hair billowing behind her, Blair vaporized three Morvs at the same time before she spun around to greet one of Vance’s soldiers attempting to sneak up on her. She is powerful.

  From the hologram, Dawn saw Sumrect soldiers advance toward the Morvyann behind Blair. They are not after Phyon, they are after me, she realized.

  While she watched Blair, she noticed a circle of blue lights at the center of the basin. The lights pulsed in synchronicity like a beating heart. Intuitively, she reached inside and placed her palm over the lights.

  Nothing happened at first, but Dawn held her hand still. A second later, the lights flickered, the churning machines fell silent, and she was plunged into total darkness.

  Chapter 14

  “Why have you summoned me here?” Praeus asked Vance.

  Stunned by the Etherian’s news, Vance had temporarily forgotten the purpose of their meeting. A calculating smile now spread across his face. He leaned forward and said in a low voice, “They are ready.”

  Praeus grew paler upon hearing the words. Vance interpreted it as excitement on the Etherian’s part.

  “Tell me more.”

  “One hundred exquisite human souls for you and yours to take.”

  “One for each of us?”

  “Precisely.”

  “You are not joking?”

  “I do not enjoy jokes.”

  “You are not bluffing?”

  “I do not need to bluff.”

  Praeus fell silent. For a long time, he studied Vance as though not quite believing what he had just heard. When he finally spoke, his voice shook with elation. “A hundred is too significant a number to take all at once… We must not be discovered for interfering with the natural process of the afterlife”

  “Then take them one at a time. Twenty at a time. Thirty. You tell me how much, and the deaths will occur accordingly.”

  “Maybe it’s possible… I must alert the Collectors immediately. There needs to be a carefully thought-out plan…”

  “Which I’m sure you’ll formulate without difficulty, Praeus. You take care of what you need to take care of. I’ll be waiting.”

  For a while, Praeus appeared to be absorbed in his own thoughts. Vance observed him closely; he had never seen the Etherian so excited about anything. Should they succeed, Praeus would have no trouble assembling the army he wanted—needed. The most powerful army Panatomius had ever seen.

  “Congratulations,” whispered Vance. “I hope you remember what it was like before you were cursed.”

  “How could I and the one hundred of us ever forget?”

  “Good. Because I hope you also remember our deal.”

  “Praeus is a keeper of his word. If you can give us life, we will repay you with undying loyalty.”

  Vance bared his teeth in a wide smile. Praeus never went back on his word, even when he and the rest of the cursed Etherians once roamed as blue Sumrects on Panatomius.

  ✽✽✽

  Dawn felt as if she had been shrouded in total darkness for hours. She tried in vain to locate a point of exit and now stood with her back against the wall of the control chamber, trying hard not to panic.

  Out of nowhere, the scent of wood and spices filled her nostrils, and a gentle hand fell on her shoulder.

  “You did it.”

  A warm voice in her ear thawed away the chilling stillness. There was no mistaking that timbre.

  “Ansel!” She exhaled in a rush of relief.

  Soft light gradually illuminated the chamber. Ansel’s beaming face hovered before her. He came alone.

  “You stopped the Morvyann, Dawn. You saved us.” He gazed at her with fondness in his eyes.

  “I did?” She could not hold back her surprise. “It worked?”

  “Yes!” He laughed at her incredulity. “Its effect was immediate. All the Morvs froze… the entire beach is litter
ed with them. Quite the spectacle.”

  “No way!”

  “Now, you owe me an apology.”

  “For what?” She blinked, baffled.

  “For scaring me half to death.”

  She relaxed and grinned. “You? Scared? I thought nothing scares Ansel Cassadian.”

  He grew serious. “So did I… And I knew, in my rational mind, the Morvs can’t detect you, but endless thoughts of ‘what ifs’ were ricocheting around in my head—”

  His brows suddenly twisted into a frown. “They burned you,” he murmured as he raised a hand to her right cheek and touched the burn. His cold, gentle fingertips soothed her stinging skin. For half a minute he held it there, until all the pain faded, and a faint smile appeared on his face.

  “No scarring,” he said.

  Dawn wished he would keep his fingers there, but as soon as the repair was done, he cleared his throat self-consciously and withdrew his hand. She felt her own cheek, and sure enough, the skin was smooth as before.

  “Wow, that was fast,” she said, a tad nervous under his unwavering gaze.

  “Truly, the only perk of being a Sumrect.”

  “You despise being a Sumrect, don’t you?”

  “Terribly. Not so much being a Sumrect as the responsibility and sacrifice that accompany a wielder of great power.” He grimaced, recalling a nasty episode from his past. “And the temptation of it all… I’m no saint, Dawn.”

  “But you don’t abuse it like your brother does. You help people with your power. You took down a Morvyann all by yourself—” She remembered at once. “The third Morvyann! I need to go shut it down!”

  She sprinted toward the chamber exit as she spoke.

  “Oh no, you don’t!” Ansel followed her. “We have already taken care of the last Morvyann. Once this vessel stopped sending out Morvs, we were able to get enough Sumrects together to drive away Quinn and his bunch.”

  “Quinn and his Sumrects… They are gone?” She slowed to a stop.

  “Let’s just say, they don’t dare return and mess with Phyon anymore.”