Lighting Distant Shores (Challenger's Call Book 4)

by Nathan Thompson

  She smiled back. Then energy crackled around her, and she was gone.

  I blinked for a second, and tried not to think too hard about how badly my life was going right before I met Stell, and how, even after everything terrible that had happened, I still wouldn’t trade this opportunity for the world.

  “She’ll be okay,” I said out loud. “Really.”

  Avalon, I spoke internally. Confirm if the next phase of In Case of Trouble Protocol is primed.

  Confirmed, Avalon replied. Shelter is ready for relocation.

  I drew Breaker, this time in bladeless handle form. I held it aloft, and felt an invisible pressure settle over me.

  Commence activation, I instructed.

  Everyone was already clear of the manor grounds. I had Virtus, Guineve, and all my other delegates check and ensure that everyone coming was inside, and everyone staying in the Woadlands was off the premises.

  “Activation commencing,” Avalon intoned. “All personnel are advised to stay within the building. Woadhome, In Case of Trouble Protocol is concluded. Shelter is now returning to Avalon.”

  “Acknowledged,” Woadhome, the planetary intelligence of this world replied. “Safe travels, Prime Planet.”

  Everything within my line of sight shimmered into gray mist.

  When the effect ended, nothing appeared to have changed.

  Transport successful, Avalon told me. Welcome home, Lord Challenger.

  “That was it?” I asked aloud, dumbfounded.

  Affirmative, Avalon replied. Protocol demands that environmental damage to Avalon be kept to a minimum. All safeguards functioned as directed. Sending updates now.

  Basically, aside from a whole bunch of training and improvements, nothing had changed since I was gone. No new invasions from nascent Dark Icons, which was good. I'd have to do something to be more prepared for the next one, but at present, it looked like my enemies had their attention just as divided as my own. My people had efficiently used the conflict-free weeks to develop enhancements to their Avalonian society. While I had been engaged in freeing Woadhome, they had constructed new, improved buildings, grown more of the super-crops I had invented, and tended to the new Woadfather Grove.

  In addition, they were also able to further train themselves in army tactics, specifically those residents that had helped me fight off the last of the Hoarfolk.

  As I stepped out of my Manor and back into the clearing, I saw that my new army of Avalonian mages and home-grown Gaelguard were already back outside, working through various formation drills under Virtus’ supervision. Nearby, Breyn's father inspected the tattoos of other brand new Gael-guard, nodding in apparent satisfaction while speaking with one of the veterans that had remained behind.

  “I should probably figure out how they managed to tattoo so many non-Woadfolk to begin with,” I said to myself. The power boost given by the tattoos had made all the difference in the last fight, closing much of the gap between my people and the Hoarfolk royal guard.

  “Yeah, everybody thought it would be really complicated,” a voice to my left commented. “But, as it turns out, it wasn't that difficult.”

  I turned and saw a girl that looked to be around middle-school age, with dirty-blonde hair that fell around her shoulders and the sides of her face. Her features were of European descent, similar to mine, save that she had a slightly darker skin tone. She had a rough, tomboyish manner that she had probably picked up during her time on the streets back on Earth.

  “Hi, Sam,” I said to the second girl my family had tried to adopt, before she had been kidnapped and coerced into lying to the courts and everyone else about my dad. “What's going on? How are you?”

  Her shoulders hunched for a moment, but then she relaxed and answered me.

  “I'm okay,” she said. “Um... Val and Gabby have been saying that we should all be talking to you more. Val said you…” her eyes drifted away, before she purposefully brought them back toward me. “...Val said she talked to you, and that you're not really mad at us.”

  “No, I'm not,” I said gently, gazing at my second adopted sister. I could feel the gulf between us, one that wasn't there when she used to talk me into playing sports with her and help her with whatever building projects she could get the school to let her do. “I'm upset about all the things that happened to you guys that I didn't know about.”

  Samantha shook her head.

  “They didn't do anything to us, if that's what you're worried about,” Sam said quickly, as if she needed me to believe her.

  I didn't.

  “Well, okay,” she said slowly. “They yelled at us a lot. They made some really scary, really… gross threats, a bunch of times. And a few times, they hit us,” she said with a swallow. “If we talked back or tried to run away. But the one time one of them actually tried to do something really bad to Val, it was stopped. So, compared to what we heard them to do you,” she swallowed again, “We weren't really hurt. And we don't know how to tell you we're sorry. But Val's been telling us not to worry about it.”

  Though it hadn't been my intent, Sam and Kayla had both come along with the Shelter to the Woadlands for the final Tumult battle. They didn't fight, thank God, but they had helped secure the newly rescued prisoners. I had been furious about the whole thing, until Guineve explained that the safest place for anyone in Avalon was with her. She also informed me that Sam and Kayla were both showing Challenger powers, like Val was, which meant that they technically couldn't die. At least, not the first time.

  Furthermore, the whole process had enabled them to each rise several times. Though they didn't have any inclination for combat like Val—again, thank God—they had been developing some other useful talents, according to the Testifiers. I hadn't had time to find out any more than that.

  “Yeah, Sam,” I said, turning my thoughts to the present. “The thing is, I can't accept your apology, because I don't think any of it was your fault. I'm more upset that you were in that situation for so many years without my knowledge, and I didn't do anything to help you.”

  “Val mentioned that, too,” the blonde girl answered me. “And she’s still mad, because she says that’s just as stupid as us thinking we were responsible for the things we were supposed to do. You weren’t that much older than us, and the courts and social workers told you to keep your distance from us anyway. And even if you did find out what was going on, what were you going to do? You got hurt like six months later. And there was no one to tell that wasn’t already controlled by the people behind the whole thing. Am I right?”

  Damnit. She was.

  “Okay,” I sighed. “You’re right. I don’t think any of us have been thinking clearly about this whole thing. And maybe that’s normal, too.”

  “I thought you needed to hear that,” she said awkwardly. “From more than one of us.”

  “Yeah,” I admitted. “It’s good to talk to you again, Sam. What have you been up to?”

  I had a few minutes to kill, and Avalon could just keep sending updates to me directly if necessary. Virtus had already returned to training people, and Guineve was introducing my new citizens to those I had rescued before. I didn’t need to do anything at the moment, and trying to help anyone else in charge would just make a whole bunch of new people bow and scrape at me, rather than listening to the person I had delegated that task to.

  So instead, I found out that Samantha had learned Shaping Magic, and comprehended the Ideal of Earth. She was also walking the Path of the Maker, and had chosen Craftsman as her Profession. Even with both Earth and Shaping magic, she couldn’t fight worth a damn, which was fine by me, because she was barely thirteen, and I would have frankly lost my shit if there was enough of my combat force to count as some kind of magical ‘teen girl squad.’

  But her crafting, construction, and smithing abilities were all advancing an alarming rate. She probably wasn’t that far behind Eadric in a lot of skills, despite the fact that she was well below either of our Risen levels. She also shoul
d have been having at least some version of the restrictions I was fighting, due to her own Earthborn heritage. Right now, though, she had the potential to mature into being a significant benefit for pretty much every project my people were working on. She even had ideas regarding how to improve the farming equipment that Breena’s people were using.

  But the more I reviewed her abilities, the more I mentally heard Breena’s voice chiding me, pointing out just what I could have accomplished if I had only stuck to learning two or three things. I shook my head, and realized Samantha was staring at me.

  “So… is it okay that I’m doing all of this?” she asked timidly. “I know you’re kind of in charge, and that you have your own plan for how things should work around here. But everyone I’ve worked with hasn’t said anything about you not wanting us to help, so, um... is it okay?”

  “Of course!” I said, grateful to be taken out of my thoughts. “You helping out is a good thing. If you had been doing something wrong, someone would have let you know. So, thank you. Your skills are gonna be a big help.”

  “Thanks,” she smiled at me. “It feels really good to be useful. Instead of… trapped. Thank you for saving us, Wes.”

  Then, before I could respond, she closed the gulf I had felt between us earlier by stepping forward and giving me a hug. I felt a dark cloud, which had been forming in the back of my mind, crumble apart at her acceptance, and I hugged her back.

  “You’re welcome, Sam. I mean, Sis,” I added bravely, and to help prevent that cloud in my mind from returning . “It’s good to have you back.”

  Chapter 10: Stepping Toward the Storm

  My team reassembled in front of the tunnels under Avalon. I studied the group one last time. It was good to have Virtus work with us again, even though he normally couldn’t leave Avalon. He seemed to have gotten stronger in my absence, as if he had recovered more of his old strength. Despite my massive gains from the Woadlands in both skill and natural ability, he had still been able to trounce me every time I fought him without magic during our most recent sparring sessions. He now stood to my right, clad in an improved version of the bronze armor he had worn at our first meeting, though he still used that stone-bladed, gladius-like sword that seemed to be his favorite weapon.

  Also composing the front line was Eadric, in his combination of bronze plate armor and normal chainmail, and Breyn wearing a mishmash of Woadfolk mail and looted Hoarfolk armor. Most of the original Gaelguard had wanted to enter the tunnels with me, but from my understanding, the Rites that were required in order to gain access to more of Avalon’s power only allowed me to take a small retinue. I settled for taking Virtus, Val, the three Testifiers, Breena, and Breyn—who, out of all the Gaelguard, worked the very best with the rest of my group—and was finally able to integrate our mindlink.

  And Petalbell. The little fairy I had rescued on my very first Challenge had bonded with Breyn as a familiar, and had come with us to Avalon. Actually, most of the Gaelguard had gained fairy familiars. The two groups had worked phenomenally well together in the last Tumult, and Merada had suggested the creation of a new pairing, where a fairy and warrior would work in tandem. We had decided to implement the idea, and so far, there hadn’t been any problems.

  Unless you counted the weird looks Petalbell kept giving Breyn whenever she randomly grew larger. But I chose not to think about that. I usually had my hands full just trying to understand Breena, so as long as the bonded groups didn’t stab their companions in the back or rip anyone’s clothes off in the middle of a battle, I wasn’t going to make it any of my business.

  My entire team looked as ready as it could be. We returned to the central room, which displayed a mural of Old Earth in the center of the floor, while a series of stone doors lined the circular walls. Two of the doors, one representing Avalon itself, another representing the Woadlands, were open. Mist was gathering around a third door, the one depicting a basket-hilted sword rising out of nearby waves. Since it was the only door with any kind of oceanic art, I assumed that it pertained to the Sun-Jeweled Seas.

  I walked to the center of the floor to begin the next Rite. Once again, we had to pass among the million-year old bodies of dead Earthborn, wearing strange plate armor that looked aeons ahead of even my world’s technology.

  They had died here to protect the last of the fleeing Avalonians from the hungry, ancient things invading this place, forming a rear guard that provided them with enough time to evacuate to Earth. That was supposedly why a trace of Avalonian and Woadfolk blood flowed through my veins. Apparently, my people cared nothing for maintaining bloodlines back then, despite being a race so powerful that the galaxy had decided to wipe them out.

  I’d get to the bottom of that someday.

  For now, though, I would speak to ghosts.

  The Earthborn leader, the captain of this martyred guard, floated in front of me. His Native American features were unchanged, as was his futuristic, metal-winged plate armor that left only his face and hair visible. He nodded his translucent head as I approached.

  “Greetings once again, to the Earthborn Lord of Avalon. You do the Expanse honor by choosing to be king.”

  “I sure hope so,” I replied respectfully, as I continued to approach. I had gotten used to the idea of being a lord out of necessity, and because having my own planet sounded awesome, and because everyone had been so on board with the idea that it was easy for me to stay positive. But there was a still a back corner of my mind shouting that giving so much power to an eighteen year old boy that had gone through so much trauma was a terrible, horrible idea, and it was hard to ignore those thoughts. At times, I felt like I was one bad decision away from failing Stell and losing hundreds of lives.

  “You must hope so,” the Earthborn ghost said firmly. “You must cling to that truth in the way that others cling to their Icon faiths, as we cling to Invictus’ dream. These stars lack good kings, and good queens, more than they lack anything else. Know that every day you wield power responsibly, every day you seek to bring greatness to the land around you, even every day when you fail but try to learn from your mistakes, is a day that sets back the plans of every fell dragon, every dark god, every bloodthirsty thing that makes noise in the night. This universe lessens with the passing of every good man or woman, and thrives whenever more than one king, and more than one queen, rises up to take the place of the fallen.”

  I shook my head.

  “I wish you had been there to help my father teach me. Now they tell us that we have too many kings and too many queens. And that touching power will destroy us. I don’t know if you can truly hear me, old ghost, but know that my people are not what they once were, and the best of us fear to touch power at all.”

  It was a cruel truth to impart to a man dead by sacrifice. But he simply nodded at me.

  “Then the worms of the Council finally found some measure of success. Know this, son of our grandsons, that power finds all women and all men. Discarding it is just as irresponsible as using it for the same selfish gains that the Council served. Castigate your fear, fellow Earthborn, for it falls far short of making you wise. Do what good you can, where you can, and the Expanse will last another day. Know that the same is true for you, daughter of my granddaughters,” he said as he glanced at Val. “And now, I ask another boon of you both, for the battles fought on this world have grown no older in my mind. Behind the next door will you find more nightmares, emptiness that has devoured the hopes and dreams of those that we could not rescue in time. Should it ever be released, or even if it survives for another hundred aeons, the Expanse will one day be consumed by it. But eternity has been set inside both of your hearts. Use it to swallow up the emptiness beyond that door, so that the once-dead may find deliverance, and shout your names. Victory is your birthright. I beg you both, go forth and claim it.”

  He began fading, speaking one last time.

  “Hold fast. All is not lost. Failure is non-permanent. Greater things are yet to come.”

&
nbsp; I waited for him to fade completely before speaking out loud again.

  “Avalon,” I intoned formally. “The Nascent Planetary Lord comes before you to begin the next Rite of Territory.”

  “Acknowledged,” Avalon spoke, taking on an odd tone in this ancient place, as if it were performing a ceremony of its own in greeting. “The second Rite of Territory requires the Lord to expand and mark the boundaries of his authority. The Lord must enter the marked location.” The door with the waves and basket-hilted sword slowly opened. “Upon entering, the Lord will be charged with investigating the full parameters of the artificial realm located within the next room. Avalon will test the Lord’s ability to recognize, challenge, and expand his limitations. Avalon will now assign power to creation rituals, enabling the production of the artificial realm to test the Lord—ERROR—”

  The planet’s voice changed and warbled for a moment.

  “An artificial realm already exists within the chamber. Source appears to be In Case of Trouble Protocol. A new realm to test and expand the Lord’s authority is unavailable. The Rite cannot be conducted, and therefore must be marked as a failure. New recommendation appearing in system: abdicate, false king. Sender unknown.”

  “The recommendation is denied,” I growled back. “I’m opening the way to the Sun-Jeweled Seas, and formality be damned. I do not accept the results of this botched Rite. Leave the room open, Avalon. I’ll start by expanding my boundaries here.”

  “Acknowledged,” the planetary supercomputer replied. “Forcing countermeasures to activate, and establishing new parameters for measuring the Challenger’s Right to Rule. Good luck, Wes Malcolm of Earth.”

  The door finished opening. A gust of stale air, like the thousand year old breath of an ancient beast, washed out of the blackened hallway. I ignored it.

  “Form up,” I said firmly. “Spells and weapons ready. We’re going in, and we’re going to beat whatever we find down there.”