Vontaura

by James C. Dunn

  At the door, Justus fired three more times. A high-pitched yell from the corridor. Justus turned back inside. ‘Has he . . . ?’

  He nodded, tears in his eyes. ‘We need to go.’

  ‘Where, father?’

  ‘The moon is our ally,’ Peter said.

  NINETY-ONE

  THE WIND HOWLED as Aíron Veryan hauled the unconscious-but-breathing body of Raj Timbur into the back of the parked ground vehicle. At the back of Malizar’s estate, the ground was black as ash, and she fell to her knees as she wept, devoid of all strength.

  Noah and Shree. Dead. Dead for sure. No doubt. But she had Raj back. Noah and Shree. Sacrificed themselves to get him out. They died together. Raj was alive. Aíron hoped Dimal had managed to get to Justus in time.

  She pulled Raj up and into the vehicle, falling once again to her knees as she did. ‘Noah,’ she mumbled. ‘Shree . . . got to go . . . oh . . . please, Raj . . . come on!’

  She lay him on the passenger seat and slammed the vehicle door shut, then charged round to the driver’s side. As she opened the door and clambered in, several masked men appeared before the vehicle, great rifles aimed at her where she sat.

  ‘Don’t shoot! Please!’ she cried.

  A loud rumbling grew beneath the trees nearby. An enormous body of scorching metal appeared over the hill. The masked soldiers before her turned and covered their ears, some dropping their weapons. The Scarlet Flux bellowed above, lifting off and roaring into the sky.

  Aíron waited for no one and forced the vehicle forwards, mowing down any that got in her way. A body hit the windshield. Both shattered. She swerved left, missing both a guard and the iron gate and raced away down the country road.

  NINETY-TWO

  THE SCARLET FLUX gunned through the vast gap between Earth and Luna. But it was not alone. As the blue, clouded world grew smaller behind, tiny flecks of light shadowed. The Allied Moon followed.

  Justus sat with his head in his hands, still coming to terms with his new reality. It was though a cloud had lifted from before him and he was experiencing life as it actually was. Life as everyone else knew it.

  Peter leaned over the controls, mumbling to himself as he placed the Flux onto autopilot. ‘Listen to me now, Antal. I need to explain.’

  ‘I’ve seen what I need,’ Justus said. ‘You’ve shown me so much. I doubt you could explain it all.’

  ‘I don’t think I could. But some things I have to. I trained you for this. I taught you as much as I could because I knew this was coming. Because it has already happened once. I was not there, but I am here now.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Because of Anna Berenguer.’

  He beamed. ‘Anna’s alive?’

  ‘Yes, Antal. She’s alive. So alive!’

  He looked ahead. Luna was in sight. Anna. Alive. He smiled. ‘You kept disappearing. You’ve been here forty years. What were you doing all that time?’

  ‘If you knew that the end of everything was coming what would you do?’

  ‘I’m not like you, Peter. I’m not strong.’

  ‘Very soon you will see just how strong you are. You have to be stronger than me. I was never training you to take on Malizar. He is and has always been my enemy. But you . . . you must fight an even greater evil. Something is coming. The Dark and Silent Invasion is nearing its close. All our futures will be decided tonight.’

  ‘What’s coming, Peter? Why did you come back?’

  ‘Marrak Malizar has caused so much damage. He manipulated Crilshar in a mistaken attempt to strengthen the Alignment. But it has had the opposite effect. The Dishan preserved their own needs. What Marrak did not count upon was the goodness of a Crilshan man. Yux Dishan did not serve him as he so surely believed he would. Yux saved the life of Ruben Berenguer. And together the two put aside their differences to prevent the fall of what was left of the Alignment. They saved Anna and Callista from Titan. Saved us all. Then, because of Anna, I was able to return in full knowledge of these events.’

  Justus caught his eye, witnessed a flicker of excitement that so resembled his own. ‘What have you done?’ he asked.

  Peter looked down.

  ‘Father?’

  He looked up, smiled, motioned out of the backward viewing casement. Justus looked out to see the Allied Moon crafts following behind. Several bright bursts of light and both were forced to shield their eyes. When Justus looked again the crafts had been replaced by a dozen more, many of which were now travelling alongside the Flux.

  ‘Watch out!’

  ‘It’s not the Allied Moon!’

  ‘Who are they, Peter?’

  ‘The Laxiad, son.’

  ‘What?’

  Luna loomed in the distance, reaching ever closer.

  Peter placed a warm hand on his shoulder. ‘The Laxiad perished a long time ago. Now it rises anew. Now we take on the Allied Moon. You, Antal, will take on the Great Enemy. You will protect Earth. You will, and were always meant to be, Vontaura.’

  ‘Sixty-nine minutes ago communication with the Martian Colony was lost.’ Two-hundred cloaked shapes formed a circle round the Dark Lord Malizar. ‘We are all that remain.’

  Their faces were clammy, bodies shaking. Some stood firm, but they were few. The master’s poise prevailed. His confident tone rang irrational. A gleaming silver sceptre rested in his hand. Mistress Sudana was at his side, dark veil hanging before her face.

  The Von were gathered, summoned to the moon. Above, the great ceiling of the Luna Athenaeum bowed down, choleric faces of the high exalted watched as the end arrived.

  ‘What about the Alignment?’ Vortan pushed to the front of the ground, having been forced to the moon with the rest.

  ‘The Alignment is no more,’ Sudana said. ‘I have been there myself. They are consumed.’

  ‘Consumed by what?’

  ‘We must submit!’ cried one of the silver-cloaked Von. ‘We must submit and beg for our lives.’

  ‘There is no other way now,’ another said. Several more agreed.

  Vortan watched Malizar’s reaction. He had none.

  ‘What are we to do?’ spoke Von Runit.

  ‘Fallen to what?’ Von Fallacine asked. ‘To whom?’

  ‘To a force not of our Systems,’ Malizar answered. ‘From beyond our frontier.’

  ‘Invaders?’

  ‘Slithered beneath us, dark and silent and swift in delivering death.’

  ‘You fool!’ Vortan cried. ‘You brought this upon us! You and your power plays, your avarice knows no bounds! Well . . . Well, look at what you have done. You have killed us all!’

  Runit pushed past Vortan. ‘We must submit! We must submit and beg for our lives!’

  ‘That appears to be our only option,’ Malizar said. ‘Though I still think we can fight.’

  ‘Fight?’ Von Uibat said. ‘Fight with what?’

  ‘WITH THE ORDER OF THE ALLIED MOON!’ Malizar motioned and from the Grand Hall marched a group of two thousand red-caped men. All were armed; they did not shout or shake or sweat. ‘My order attempted to combat the invasion. But no military effort can halt them. We are left now with only one choice. We will show our strength, demonstrate what service we could deliver, and we submit. There is no other way now.’

  NINETY-THREE

  PETER AND JUSTUS leapt from the Flux and hastened down the many stairs leading from the great glass rings and through a mighty arch of stone. Images of Dimal running alongside many months ago flashed before him. Their footfalls echoed ahead through the great empty hall. Abandoned, but for—

  ‘Master!’

  The two spun. Several men approached. They bore blue armour, just like the men that had come to their aid beneath Malizar’s estate. They hurried forwards and bowed to Peter, flickering glances made towards Justus.

  ‘Speak quickly,’ Peter said.

  ‘Master, they are all here.’

  Peter looked down at them, no longer the feeble-looking boy, but an elderly, wise, commanding man. �
��The Von and the Allied Moon?’

  ‘They are standing off right now. Inside the Grand Hall. Lord Malizar has revealed everything.’

  ‘Gather the others,’ he told one. ‘Everyone else, follow me.’

  They marched quickly through two more cavernous halls. Various groups clad in dark blue joined with the force, until they neared one-thousand in number. The Laxiad reformed. They reached the Grand Hall. The many men and women of the Von and Allied Moon turned in wonder at the unexpected arrival.

  ‘Who is this?’ Malizar shouted.

  ‘The Laxiad submits its call for Vontaura!’ Peter cried.

  ‘You?’ The Dark Lord laughed.

  ‘No!’ he said. ‘A combination of all our parties. Stand as one and we need not flinch at the sight of our Enemy.’

  Many of the Von heard Peter’s words and at once moved to stand beside the blue legion of the Laxiad, affirming their opposition to the Allied Moon. Each took out a sabre. Long had they waited to fight the malicious force which had infiltrated the Rivers, their home.

  The Allied Moon took out their own weapons, crying, ‘Deserters! Kill them!’

  ‘Surrender!’ called the Laxiad.

  ‘Submit!’ cried the Von.

  ‘STOP!’ The voice of Lord Malizar held them in their place.

  Justus looked at Peter, who stood facing the cloaked man with an expression he couldn’t decipher: it could have been fear, anger, or, mostly probably, somewhere between.

  ‘How you have managed once again to intervene I do not know,’ Malizar said, gesturing with Peter’s silver sceptre held in his hand. ‘But for whatever reason you have come here, I swear you will rue it. What can you do that I cannot? There is nothing any of us can do to stop what is coming.’

  ‘Yes,’ Peter said. ‘There is.’

  Malizar laughed. ‘Who are you?’

  Peter stepped forward. ‘You know who I am, Marrak. I’m sorry.’

  The cloaked lord faltered. He was no fool. His dark eyes dimmed, searching for the answer, struggling to deny the truth. ‘It is . . . no . . . no, it cannot—’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You can’t be . . .’

  ‘You have so much to answer for,’ Peter said, taking another slow step toward him. ‘I will never forget what you did. And you will answer for those wrongs. But the threat we now face is so much greater than that.’

  ‘What do you imagine I’ve been doing?’ Malizar said. ‘The Systemal Alignment was weak. I strengthened it—’

  ‘You destroyed it!’ Justus cried.

  ‘It destroyed itself! The only chance we had was the creation of an army.’

  ‘Marrak, they are all dead.’

  ‘We lost contact, yes—’

  ‘We lost contact because there is nobody left to contact. A handful of vessels have survived the invasion which has smashed down upon the Systems, silent and dark and utterly without mercy!’ He stepped forward again. ‘I was there, among those that awoke the night. I saw what was upon Erebus. What was beneath it.’

  ‘Then you know why we must submit.’

  ‘I know why we must fight.’

  ‘Fight! Fight with what? Your band of a thousand? If we forced a weapon into the hand of every last man, woman, and child, even then our victory would be impossible!’

  Peter moved close, now in front of Malizar. Justus wanted to move, but something inside told him to remain where he was. ‘I knew a young boy once,’ Peter said. ‘He was special. So much more than all the others. Did you never want to know why you can do all the things you can do, why it was only you that held the Four Canons when nobody else could, why you never really felt like a true Iástron? I knew a young boy. When faced with unbeatable odds he smiled fearlessly and jumped. Jump with me, Marrak—’ he reached out his hand ‘—and give me the sceptre.’

  Malizar extended his hand, slowly, hesitantly, and grasped his old master firmly. Peter fell to his knees. Justus took one step before he noticed the weapons raised at him from behind the Dark Lord, who smiled and said, ‘I was never interested in the truth. I decide what is true.’ He raised the sceptre, tipped the sharp edge into Peter’s chin. ‘I hate you, Peter Marx. I have always hated you.’ He lurched back, then forward, raising the sceptre—

  SLAM! Malizar collapsed over Peter and landed on his face as a metal staff drove into the back of his skull from behind. Shaking, Vortan dropped the golden staff and took hold of Peter and the silver sceptre.

  Outrage ran across the masses. Both groups raised their weapons, preparing to fire from opposing ends of the hall.

  ‘Wait!’ Vortan said after helping Peter to his feet. ‘We are all on the same side, whether you want to be or not! The only way we can fight what’s coming is if we do so together! The Von, Allied Moon, and the Laxiad. Forget rivalries. Forget Vontaura. Focus on what binds us, not what separates—’

  ‘NO!’ Malizar picked himself up from the floor, blood dripping down his skull and shoulders. ‘Not this time!’ He stretched out his arms and both Vortan and Peter were taken from their feet and sent soaring through the air. The sceptre landed on the ground and Sudana rushed to pick it up.

  ‘Take that thing,’ he told her. ‘Keep it from them!’

  Sudana raised the sceptre, but stopped dead.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Malizar cried. ‘Not you as well!’

  Sudana shook her head, raised a hand, and pointed towards the hall’s entrance. A group of armed men, two-hundred strong, stood blocking the entrance. Jules Ditton presented himself at the head of the band of fighters, his hairless head shining in the low light of the Athenaeum hall. A blonde, curly-haired woman was with him.

  Justus was almost lost for words. ‘Adra?’

  Adra Dimal saw him, swallowed, and said nothing. She looked thinner than before, and was draped in the dark armour of Ditton’s private army.

  ‘What in hell’s name!’ boomed Malizar.

  Ditton raised a large rifle and rested it on his shoulder. ‘You started the party without us? Now that was rude.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘My name is Jules Ditton. Resident and powerhouse of Francium, second River of Euro. I am here to stake my claim to Vontaura.’

  Malizar laughed, cold and scornful. Although weakened, his power shook the hall. ‘And which of us are you staking the claim against?’

  ‘All of you.’ Ditton laughed and motioned above, where all around them men surfaced, having taken up tactical positions. Behind statues and across ceiling beams, gunmen waited. From several surrounding halls the private army emerged.

  Justus gazed up, edged closer to Peter.

  ‘This won’t end well,’ his father said.

  ‘What do we do?’

  ‘This is all pointless. I need that sceptre. Without it I cannot help.’

  Justus gritted his teeth. ‘I’ll get it.’

  ‘Be careful, Antal. And stay away from Malizar. He’s my enemy. My mark.’

  Malizar stepped into position at the forefront of his order. ‘So the Von and the Laxiad will oppose my Allied Moon. My Allied Moon shall destroy both of them. They no doubt will ally themselves with you and focus on destroying my forces. Meanwhile you will take on all three of us for the mistaken right to greet our overlords and stand proud at the top of a fallen human race?’

  Ditton shrugged. ‘Sounds about right.’

  Malizar glared. ‘So be it.’

  His gesture moved so slowly, and yet faster than any could react. Rows of silver masked beings opened fire, and the response from the Von and Laxiad, now positioned side by side, was equal in rage. Groups charged forward while the forces of Jules Ditton swept in from all sides, enlisting in the fray.

  Justus stood back with Peter and Vortan, attempting to catch some glimpse of Dimal across the hall. But she had disappeared amid the fight. Peter seized Justus’ hand and pointed at the veiled witch Sudana, who had charged off to the Great Hall, sceptre in hand.

  ‘Go!’ Peter cried. ‘Antal,
go!’

  NINETY-FOUR

  JUSTUS CHARGED AWAY from the chaos, pursuing the veiled woman through the farthest halls. She had moved fast along the narrow corridors and around a sequence of enormous statues, then down a series of circular steps. Down into the document libraries. Justus followed without thought.

  It was so dark he couldn’t see Sudana, but her voice echoed around him. ‘Poor little Antal Justus . . . lost his mummy . . . nooo, killed his mummy.’

  Justus breathed deeply, searching for her among the many metal shelves.

  ‘Killed his friends . . . lost his friends . . . alone . . . abandoned.’

  Her shadow fell across the counter behind him. She crawled along, through into the next room, Peter’s sceptre clutched between her thin fingers. He could knock her over, take her out and run. But what if she did to him what she did back in Malizar’s House? That cold, cruel mine into his mind.

  As he watched her, he heard a voice. It was not Sudana. ‘Antal!’ it called.

  Is that Dimal? he thought.

  ‘Antal! Please!’

  Absolutely not. It was—

  ‘Please, sweetheart. Do it for me.’

  He turned towards the voice and peered down at his mother, Casandra Justus. She lay in her bed, wrapped in her sheets. In the north wing of Vortan Manor, the two were alone. The windows shut. It was cold. Always cold.

  ‘I’ve lived a long life,’ she said. ‘A good life. I’m old. Old and tired, so tired. I’m . . . I’m confused. But not about this.’

  ‘Mum, don’t.’

  ‘I will only get worse.’

  ‘Mum—’

  ‘Antal, you know what I’m going to ask. I will ask one more time.’

  ‘No, mum.’

  ‘I begged Lanfranc. He refused outright. He won’t help me. There’s only you left.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘You . . . have to, sweetie. There is no cure for this. I will die . . . sooner or later. I will suffer . . . greater pain . . . so much agony. I can’t do it, Antal. The agony—’

  ‘And what about my agony?!’ he screamed. ‘How am I supposed to live with myself knowing I’ve taken my own mother’s life?!’