Destiny Reckoning

by Trevor Gregg

  “We are indeed here for Joraq,” Elarra spoke up, slurring slightly. “We have come to meet with her.”

  “And she is expecting you? You are companions of hers?” he asked warily.

  “No, we seek her for reasons that are our own, but we do not know her,” Elarra answered cautiously.

  Arkanon lowered his sword again and responded, “Fair enough, I understand keeping your business a secret. However, I have a proposal that you may be interested in. I too seek Joraq, but I have been warned of my death should I ever enter her territory.”

  “So what do you want us to do about it? Carry a message?” Kyren suggested.

  “Yes, indeed, but you will carry a messenger, who will bear the message, instead,” Arkanon answered. “In fact, I will provide transport and escort to her realm. You’ll need it too if you are to travel the Rendikarian wilderness. So in the meantime, just relax, the effects of the gas will be wearing off soon enough.”

  Benjam saw Kyren flexing his fingers and lifting his arms. Alis and Elarra seemed to be making similar recoveries. He felt relief flood him. This Arkanon didn’t seem like such a bad fellow, at least as far as warlords were concerned.

  “Please, refresh yourselves while I prepare my envoy for the journey. You may speak to my wife, Arshara, who will answer any questions you may have. My people will lead you to the garden where she resides,” Arkanon finished, abruptly sheathing his sword and disappearing back into the silent crowd.

  A short, squat raxi with broad features motioned for them to follow. Benjam was relieved as Kyren, Alis, and Elarra all stood, albeit shakily. Benjam squiggled along, following down a long hallway to an open archway at the end. They exited into what turned out to be a courtyard garden.

  Near a large enclosure across the far side, stood a being much like Arkanon. This must be his wife, Arshara. She was bald, blue-skinned, and bore the two fleshy tendrils trailing from her skull just as her husband. However, she wore delicate silk robes, and stood with a gentle grace, unlike her husband’s aggressive, coiled posture.

  “Welcome strangers, welcome,” the woman said, moving toward them, the sun playing across the fine silk robes as she swished along.

  “Kyren, Benjam, Alis, Elarra,” she said, nodding to each in turn.

  “How do you know my name, I didn’t give it,” Alis asked, sounding shocked.

  “Ah, yes, well, that is explainable. I am Ararax, I can see great distances through space. But not through time like you, liadi. Alas I only see the present.”

  “So you watched us on approach, then?” Elarra asked bluntly.

  “Yes, once I was alerted to your presence, I began to watch you. I assured my husband you were no threat to him, but he is cautious. His enemy can see through time, after all,” she explained. “Come, let me release the serkins and then we can walk amongst the garden while we speak of your quest.”

  They followed her across the courtyard to the large enclosure. It was the size of two autocars stacked upon each other. The wooden frame was screened in. Arshara opened a large door and a flurry of color emerged.

  Tiny fluttering wings blurred around them as the butterfly-like creatures swarmed out. The creatures began to flit and flutter around them in a loose cloud. Occasionally one would land on someone then flutter away a moment later.

  “Aren’t they magnificent. They were a gift from Arkanon. He befriended them when they came to visit. Now they reside here,” she explained as she led them through the flowering foliage.

  “So you’re husband’s enemy is Joraq?” Kyren asked. “Why are they enemies?”

  “I know not why she wishes him dead, but she does. The only reason there is not open war is that Joraq hides within the jungle to the south, far removed. But any expeditions that venture there have never returned.”

  “And you’re hoping to piggyback on our trip. You’re hoping Joraq actually wants to see us and you can slip an envoy in alongside us?” Kyren supposed.

  “You’re not as dumb as you look, lad,” she responded, a twinkle in her eye.

  Kyren looked as if he were about to retort when a serkin landed upon his nose. He froze for a moment, until it fluttered away again. Anger lost, he just grinned.

  Benjam held out a tentacle and several alighted upon it, their faint, gentle touch tickling him, accompanied by a sort of jolt. He couldn’t help but let out a tiny giggle. They finished circling the courtyard and reached the enclosure again. Arshara opened the door and the serkins flew back inside.

  “So what is it your husband wants? I’m sure it isn’t just to be Joraq’s friend,” Elarra questioned bluntly.

  “Joraq sits upon a cache of pre-millennium-war tech. We want to obtain it. If we can set up a dialog, perhaps we can arrange a barter.”

  “So we’re helping you find some tech, and you’re helping us reach Joraq. Sounds fair enough,” Alis remarked.

  “Yes, sounds fair. But there’s always a catch. And I assume you’re not going to tell us what that is, Arshara?” Kyren asked cynically.

  “You are correct,” she replied, as the short squat raxi motioned for them to follow again.

  18

  Utien

  They were led from the compound down to the shore, to a long dock running out into a shallow harbor. A dozen speedboats were moored there, and raxi milled about, moving supplies and loading them into boats. Kyren noted that they were all well armed, heavy rifles or energy weapons were as common as the multitude of small arms.

  Arkanon stood amidst the controlled chaos, barking orders and directing traffic. Slung over his shoulder opposite the sword hilt was a wicked looking rifle.

  “Kyren, bring your friends, let’s get you introduced,” Arkanon called, beckoning them closer.

  As they approached he bellowed out to one of the raxi scurrying around. The raxi strode over, his green cloak swishing behind him. This raxi had a hard face and a long scar running down his cheek.

  “Meet Utien, he will be my envoy to Joraq, and your guide through the dangerous lands ahead,” Arkanon announced.

  Utien bowed slightly then extended his hand. He spoke in a thickly accented speech, guttural and difficult to understand without paying close attention. Kyren struggled to catch it all.

  “I will be yer guide. We shall reach our destination safely, do not worry,” Utien reassured them. “Come to the boat, meet the crew.”

  At the boat were several raxi, all couldn’t have been much more than juveniles, their skin not yet leathery and tough.

  “Jaysar, Grazabel, and Dond, meet Kyren, Alis, Elarra, and Benjam.”

  They greeted each other and shook hands.

  “Come, your gear is already on the boat. Let us be away,” Utien suggested as speedboats began pulling from the dock and speeding toward open water.

  They boarded the boat, a young raxi helping them aboard. Sure enough, their weapons were there. Kyren noted the look of relief on Alis’ face as she tucked her wrench back into her belt. The crew pushed off and the boat’s engine revved. Kyren held on as they sped out of the cove.

  It took them nearly an hour of travel at high speed along the coast to their destination, a wide river delta. A jolt went through the boat as the driver beached it against a sandy strip. The young crew members whooped and screeched as other boats pulled in alongside them. They grabbed their rifles and leapt overboard into the shallow water.

  Kyren shrugged and followed as Utien jumped ashore, the others came behind. He helped Alis and Benjam helped Elarra. Almost immediately he heard the chatter of automatic weapons fire, originating from within the jungle bordering the wide beach.

  Several raxi burst from the foliage, scrambling away in terror. They spun and trained their weapons on the jungle. Arkanon emerged, panting. He turned and raised the rifle, body going rigid, waiting to strike. Kyren immediately recognized the beast that emerged moments later.

  It had inky black fur and strode, cat-like, on six legs. The head was broad and flat, like a cross between a cat and cobra. F
angs lined it’s jaws, but worst of all was the tail. Scorpion like, long and flexible, it could shoot out feet past its body, driving the barb through anything but the toughest armor. Oh, and the stinger was poisonous, too. It was a skaljir!

  Arkanon raised his rifle to fire but a strike from the tail caused him to fumble it as he dodged, dropping the weapon to the sand. With surprising speed the skaljir engaged with Arkanon, preventing his men from getting a clean shot. With equal speed he whipped his sword from its scabbard and parried a strike from the tail.

  Another strike was dodged and an upward slice with the sword sent the stinger flying. Black ichor squirted from the tail stump as it flailed around. The skaljir turned to run but Arkanon reversed the swing and brought the sword down in a vicious arc, decapitating the beast. Ichor sprayed from its neck and coated the chest of Arkanon’s battle armor.

  “Ah, I love the smell of skaljir blood in the morning!” he cried, as more weapons fire erupted from within the jungle. “Continue on, friends, and deliver my envoy to Joraq. Now I’ve got some beasts to slay.”

  Arkanon disappeared back into the jungle.

  “Come, let us continue up the river,” Utien suggested, leading them back to the boat.

  They were underway in minutes, heading up the broad river. It didn’t take very many minutes of motoring before the river began to narrow. Soon the jungle was creeping in on both sides, only fifty yards of water either way.

  They motored for many hours, the terrain changed very little. Strange birds and other creatures chirped and hooted from the trees, and fish jumped in the water. The scene was rather relaxing, actually, the thrumming of the boat motor lulling him into complacency.

  The first stone struck several feet from him. It took him a moment to realize what had just happened. He looked to the shoreline to see several raxi in loincloths swinging slings. Another rock was loosed and Kyren ducked. It whistled through the air just above him, smacking into the opposite gunwale.

  Rocks began to pelt the boat so Kyren hunkered down. The driver hit the throttle and they raced past the angry looking raxi, leaving them behind in short order.

  “Who were they?” Alis asked.

  “They are Joraq’s raxi. The nar’raxi, we call them. They are fanatically loyal and defend her territory with their lives,” Utien explained.

  “They don’t seem like much of a threat,” Kyren remarked.

  The stones had been dangerous, possibly even deadly, it was true. But it wasn’t like they were firing automatic weapons at them, he thought

  “Yes, they seem primitive, but they have arrows and spears that are deadly enough. Let us hope they only choose stones,” Utien muttered.

  Hours more of boring driving and the sun began to set. At least that was some change.

  “We’ll sleep in shifts, but we’ll keep moving. No reason to stop now,” Utien ordered, commanding the crew to keep the vessel running.

  Kyren took the chance to get some sleep while Utien watched. He recognized the hyper-vigilance Utien displayed and appreciated they were in good hands. Leaning back, he closed his eyes, the thrumming of the boat motor lulling him to sleep.

  He awoke to a scream, a gurgled cry from the front of the boat. The lights were on and the boat still drove at a steady pace upriver. But bright bits of fire were flying through the air, arcing toward the boat. Flaming arrows?! he thought as he dove for cover.

  He could see one of the crewmen staggering around the front of the boat, arrow through his throat. He gurgled and fell over. Kyren crawled toward Alis and Elarra to wake them, but they were already scrambling for cover.

  One of the remaining crewmen picked up his rifle and began to fire into the darkness, randomly spraying the jungle, bellowing in terror.

  “No! No! Stop firing!” Utien screamed at him, but the young tough ignored him.

  Not exhibiting any hesitation, Utien drew a hefty looking pistol and squeezed the trigger, just once, drilling the young raxi in the head. The firing ceased immediately as the remaining crewman scrambled to his fallen companion. He bellowed an incoherent battle cry and picked up the rifle. He stood and aimed at Utien.

  But before Utien could fire, a spear came sailing from the darkness and punched through the crewman’s chest. The rifle clattered to the deck as the raxi fell. Blood pumped from the wound around the spearhead jutting from his chest.

  Utien jumped into the driver’s seat and gunned the throttle, the powerful engine rocketing them forward, their speed increasing and leaving the barrage behind.

  “What the hell?” Kyren exclaimed, looking to Utien.

  “They are only defending their territory. Let us hope Joraq is expecting us. Otherwise they may not let us pass,” Utien admitted.

  “No, I mean what the hell, you killed your own dude!” Kyren retorted.

  “We’re envoys, not warriors. We didn’t come to kill, we came to talk,” Utien explained. “Hopefully Joraq has foreseen this and will accept us.”

  They sped on into the night, encountering no more arrows, spears, or stones. Kyren slept again, although fitfully. Utien woke them as they passed through a narrow channel and emerged into a broad lake. The far side was rimmed by a stone dock and a large glass faced building, three stories tall. It was overgrown with vines and moss, and much of the glass was cracked and chipped, but all of it was still intact.

  Kyren pointed at the far shore and turned to Elarra, “Look at that crowd. Looks like they are expecting us, eh?”

  19

  Holograms

  Utien motored the boat to the stone dock. The crowd was only dimly lit by torchlight, so Utien panned the lights across the crowd. Kyren’s eyes widened as he spotted a grisly sight. Heads on bamboo spikes. Lots of them, in varying stages of decomposition. Whatever was going on here had been going on for awhile, he realized.

  The crowd of nar'raxi, clad in loincloths, stood before them. Some bore clubs and stone axes in addition to the ranged weapons that had already been used upon them. The boat drifted up to the pier and the crowd parted. One of the strangest creatures Kyren had ever seen came striding through the gap. He was humanoid, clad in a loose orchid-pattern shirt and dingy khaki trousers. His head, however, was just all wrong.

  The mouth was at the top of his face, two nostrils below. Further below was a single bulbous eye, rapidly rotating, gazing all around.

  “Welcome, welcome, enter Joraq’s home and be welcome,” the creature said excitedly. “Wait, where are my manners. My name’s Mac, it’s short for… never mind I doubt you could pronounce it. Just call me Mac.”

  Kyren tied one of the mooring ropes to a low wooden post wedged into a gap in the stone. He jumped out and turned to help the others. He and Utien lifted Alis and Elarra out, Benjam squiggled out behind them.

  “So Joraq is waiting for us, of course,” Kyren said to Mac.

  “Yeah man, she knows all, she does. You know, like when someone can see what’s going to happen, man, they know all, man,” Mac rambled, his one eye rapidly twitching between them, the pupil dilating and contracting.

  Kyren wasn’t sure this guy was all there. He looked sidelong at Alis. She raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

  “So where is Joraq? Do we get to meet her now, or do we have to play another bullshit waiting game?” Kyren remarked hotly.

  “No bullshit man, no game. She’s waiting for you, she is, man. Her highness will see you now, man, it’s like that,” Mac continued rambling.

  He led them deeper into the compound, they passed several structures that Kyren could swear were anti-aircraft batteries, boxy rows of missile launchers angled at the sky. Good thing they hadn’t tried to fly in here. Even overgrown as they were, he wouldn’t bet his life on them failing to operate.

  They reached a central courtyard, a sparse lawn lit by torchlight. Standing in the middle was a figure, diminutive in stature. As he approached he could make out her features, and was surprised by what he saw. He looked to Elarra and saw a look of horror.

  He kn
ew why she was horrified, he knew what she feared. She feared growing old, as this liadi, Joraq, had done. She was as a child, but wrinkled and frail, skin hanging in folds from her jowls.

  Was this what would happen to Elarra? Now that she had outlived her visikaji, was she doomed to live forever? He didn’t know but he knew Elarra must be asking herself those questions.

  “Hello friends, welcome to my home. You need not fear, you are under my protection,” Joraq wheezed. “Hello Elarra, I am happy to see you, finally.”

  “Hello Joraq, I am sure you’ve seen me. I must say I’m at a loss myself, I’ve not seen you,” Elarra responded.

  “Indeed I’ve seen you, and I’m sorry you’ve not seen me. It’ll make this more difficult,” Joraq admitted.

  “What?” Elarra asked, seeming confused.

  “Kyren, I’m glad you could come. Please, be assured there is no need for your weapons here. Yes, I know, you’ll keep them all the same, you’ll tell me.”

  “Yeah, I…” she waved and cut him off.

  “Alis, do not fret. I have seen you reunited with your mother,” Joraq informed her.

  Alis looked shocked, but then the look of surprise faded, replaced by understanding.

  “And you, Benjam,” Joraq spoke again. “Your wisdom and knowledge are key to success.”

  Suddenly, a shimmering shape streaked toward Joraq. Utien became visible at the last second. The raxi were moving to intercept but Utien was too fast. In a flash he was holding two wicked looking knives.

  Utien lashed out with two vicious strikes. Kyren expected to see Joraq sliced to ribbons, but Utien barreled forward, off balance, about to crash into her. And then he passed through, Joraq’s body appearing to flicker and waver, as Utien staggered past.

  Hologram! Kyren thought. Utien spun but the nar'raxi were already closing in. He dashed forward, slashing and stabbing, in a whirling dance of death. Nar'raxi fell, disemboweled, slashed, and stabbed.