Chosen (34 page)

“I wonder why they all left so suddenly?” Saemus asked. It felt good to be able to speak Gentran. The change was almost instantaneous; one minute he had no knowledge of the Gentran language, and the next he did.

“I don't know. But it must be something important to cause them to swim out of here as quickly as they did,” Kaelin said.

A small female Gentran swam up to Saemus carrying plates piled with food. He screwed up his face as he took in the sight of the strange fare. The colorful seaweed and grass salad did not look in any way appetizing and the scrago steak looked like a chunk of raw meat. There were also some sort of whitish-yellow tubers.

The young Gentran spoke up. “The kitchen staff prepared this specially for you and the others. It will renew your strength.” She seemed confused by his reluctance.

Saemus smiled and tried to keep from grimacing as he took the large bite of the salad. The look, taste, and texture were all so foreign that it was hard to force himself to eat. The only ones who did not seem to mind the Gentran food were the Volgons. They wolfed down every morsel that was handed to them.

The telepath, Number 2, conveyed:

--The Guardians and the Masters were worried when they left.

“Do you know why they were worried?” Saemus asked.

--Unknown. We try not to intercept thoughts meant to be private.

--They were trying to keep something from us? Now
that
I don't like.

Kyron swam up to Saemus and Kaelin. He and the other Volgons dwarfed every Gentran. Even the girls were large and intimidating. All of the Volgons had an aura of power and strength about them. They were quick to anger and did not spend time in small talk. The Volgon Chosen felt agitated at all of the sitting and
learning.

“Do you think whatever drove the Guardians and Masters from this room has something to do with us?” Jon asked. As one of the ones who had been implanted, he could speak in the Gentran language.

--According to them, their whole lives have been dedicated to us. Why should this incident be about anything else?

Kyron spoke as if stating the obvious.

“There are many things that could call them away. An accident of some sort, perhaps there are visitors, or an impending eruption…” Jon stopped short. “None of those things have need of secrecy.”

Jon turned at a commotion from behind him. The Chosen who had yet to be implanted were gesturing and squeaking, urging the telepaths to translate what Jon and the others had been discussing.

Number 5 communicated:

--The others wish to be included in the conversation. We must translate.

Jon clenched his teeth.
Blast Master Brok! I could do the implanting for everyone.
He glanced around surreptitiously.
Master Brok isn't here at the moment.

He did not remember much of the rituals he participated in that allowed him to draw on the life force of living things around him. Before each, he was given a chalice of some foul-smelling liquid to drink. It hit his tongue like a nauseating punch, and then changed to something dark, sultry, smoldering, like he was drinking the coals of a hot fire.

The concoction smoldered in his belly and spread like flames, racing up his torso and down his legs. His breath came in gasps. Jon was sure he would see fire shoot from his open mouth.

As the brew hit his brain, he began to lose touch with reality and enter a world of darkness and torches, formless masses writhing around him, guttural grunts and howls, muttering in some strange tongue, seeming to come from everywhere, screams and cries of pain and ecstasy.

The next morning he would wake with a queasy stomach, and a head full of knowledge of new and dark spells.

At first, Jon was afraid of the strange experiences, but as he began to explore this new magic, it became as obsession. He was doing things he never thought possible. And now he was a match for any of the others.
I may even be stronger than Saemus and Kaelin when they are linked.
Jon wanted desperately to touch the dark magic again, to pit his power against the rest of them to have them all gasp in wonder and admit that he was the strongest.

Jon shook his head, trying to clear the memories.
Using the dark magic is forbidden!

But you can use it for good! Surely that must be okay?

Jon wrung his hands, his mind at war between the good Spirit on one shoulder and the dark Spirit on the other. Their voices drowned out coherent thought.

I can pull a little life force from everyone and they won't even know.

He called to the nearest telepath, Number 4, and brought it off to the side. “Begin bringing me the Chosen who have yet to be implanted. I am going to help.”

Number 4 turned and rounded up nine who had yet to be implanted. The Chosen floated in front of Jon and Number 4, curious and unafraid.

“I need to find out if I can see the threads. Link with one of them.” Jon reached out rather than inward and drew on the life force he sensed all around him. The telepath made a connection with one of the Chosen from Earth. Jon's heart sped up as he saw the faint silvery threads.
I can see now how the twins did it.

“What are you doing? Master Brok forbade you using the dark magic.” Kaelin swam in front of Jon, breaking his concentration.

“I can help the two of you get this job done.”

“What you do is wrong!”

“You just want to keep all the glory for yourself. You always
did
like being the center of attention,” Jon lashed out.

Kaelin's jaw clenched in anger and her face turned red. “How
dare
you? What Saemus and I did had nothing to do with glory.”

“And I can't help that I have the knowledge of dark magic. If by using it I can help with this task, or any other, why should I not? You may be begging for my power to save you before the end.”

Kaelin opened her mouth to say something, then closed it with a snap.

--If he can help with the implanting, let him do it. We must soon fight a common enemy and the sooner we can all speak to one another, the better. Feeror did not understand the reluctance of the ones from Astra. All of them should do whatever was necessary to move the training forward.

“He can't,” Gwen said, exasperated. “The power we wield is supposed to come from within.” She pointed to her chest with one arm. “Jon has forbidden knowledge allowing him to take the life force of living things around him and use it to do magic. It is akin to rape.” She blushed at the slight exaggeration. “Wielding dark magic gives the person a tremendous amount of power.

“But it changes you.” Gwen gazed at Jon, sadness plain on her face. “The desire to touch the power becomes too great to resist. The dark magic begins to take control, and the user begins to do terrible things,
evil
things.” Her voice ended in a whisper.

--And if Jon were to use this magic, then he would be taking something from us to do it? Martha Stevens asked. She felt more than a little uncomfortable at the thought of someone being able to take some element of herself, something she could not even see or touch.

“I only take a miniscule amount from each life form I detect. The more life there is around, the smaller the bit I have to take.” Desperation made his words pour forth. “I combine what I take with my own inner power. If I can finish what Saemus and Kaelin started, then isn't it worth it? None of you will even be aware of what I am doing.”

The Chosen glanced around at each other. The ones who could not communicate leaned toward letting Jon try is idea. Even those who could speak Gentran thought it best to let Jon use the magic.

--I say let him try.

Sloan had hardly spoken two words since coming to this world. He knew the importance of being able to speak with one another. He had also grasped the big picture of what the implantation of the languages meant; like Mirka, he realized the Astrans could implant the knowledge of all their languages.

“He cannot. It is forbidden.” Kaelin put her hands on her hips.

Sloan snapped:

--Can you finish the job?

“Saemus and I might be able to do a few more today….”

--So the answer is no.

Sloan turned to Jon.

--Can you do the rest of them today?

Jon bit his lip. There were more for him to do than Saemus and Kaelin had done. He thought his new powers surpassed the twins' but he had never put it to the test.

“Yes, I can.” He would do what he promised, somehow.

Sloan spoke, violet eyes hard:

--Then do it.

One by one, the un-implanted Chosen lined up next to Jon and telepath Number 4.

Jon was nervous, and though he tried to hide it, the rapidly changing colors of his body gave it away. This was his greatest challenge yet and he did not want to fail. Not just because failure meant it would take much longer for the Chosen to be able to communicate but because it would mean he wasn't strongest in the power.

“Jon, please reconsider.”

He looked and saw Gwen hovering near, eyes showing her worry.

“Why should I? I am the one that can get this done and done quickly. It will take the twins many more days to get through everyone.”

“I just….” She bit her lip and whispered. “I just don't want to lose you.”

“I can handle it.” He turned away, completely unaware of the deeper meaning behind her words.

Jon nodded to the telepath and beckoned the first Chosen forward. He took a deep breath and opened himself to the power. He was careful to draw only the tiniest fraction from all those in the room, unwilling to steal from his fellow Chosen when the landscape of Gentra was teeming with life.

He gasped as the power flooded his body, his soul. It seeped into every fiber of his being, making him feel more alive than he could remember. His skin was warm and tingly. The blood pulsed through his veins with every beat of his heart. He felt full to bursting, like the power would soon punch through his skin and escape. Holding the power now became painful. It needed to be released.

I could level the mountains here with only a fraction of the power I now hold.
The thought terrified and delighted him.

Jon forced his mind to the task at hand. The implantation was a delicate process and he did not want to risk harming the Chosen or the telepath because he was acting giddy as a young lad at his first dance. He created more of the fine threads and sent them into the mind of the Chosen before him.

The clone sent the language information across the threads. Even though there were more threads, the process still took a little time. Jon had to maintain the flow of magic or else the threads he created would be lost, unable to sustain themselves without the power.

In short order, he had most of the Chosen completed. A steady babble of Gentran met his ears. Saemus and Kaelin hovered with Keera and Gwen, gesturing wildly toward the door. It was obvious to Jon they wanted to go and find Master Brok and the two girls were trying calm the twins down.

Jon scowled as he finished the last Chosen. He tried to release the power and found that he could not. He could feel it pulsing from deep inside. His breath quickened as he held back the flow. His cheeks reddened as he grew hard in response to the sultry, sensuous feel of the dark power.

“JON!” Master Brok's bellow echoed through the room.

Jon turned to face his teacher, an arrogant grin spreading on his face as he realized he could crush the old man.

“You must let go of the power. You have drawn the limit; even I can see the glow surrounding you. We need you. Something terrible
has happened. The Masters have decided you must be told. We are to take you to the home of the prophets.” Brok moved closer, eyes darting left and right. He stood within a hairsbreadth of Jon, speaking so low only the boy could hear. “The future stands upon the brink of ruin. The death of the Earth Chosen has sent the prophets into a frenzy. They are predicting our doom.

“The time may come for you to use your power, but against the Mekan threat. Not here, not now.”

Jon took a deep, gasping breath and released the power. He slumped a little, not from fatigue, but because his body was now empty. Everything was lifeless and hollow, colorless and bland.

“Good lad.” Brok breathed.
This boy's power could very well help in the coming fight. It alone might be a match for the machines. And yet the power could swallow him and the rest of us if he loses control.

“Come, we must go. The Masters are waiting.” Brok gathered his Chosen, while the other Guardians herded their Chosen toward the door.

“What the boy has accomplished is remarkable.” Gerok was saying to Forka and Mirka. “He wields such incredible power…” He broke off as Brok and the Astrans approached. Gerok did not understand Brok's reluctance in allowing the young one to use his power but he deferred to the superior knowledge of his fellow Guardian in this regard.

The other Chosen, while grateful to be able to speak with one another, were aware of the tension between the Astran Chosen and their Guardian. Speaking brought attention to the fact that they only did so through Jon's use of forbidden power.

The group swam over the deep, yawning trench that seemed to descend forever into eternal darkness. Kaelin looked down and wished she hadn't. She came to a stop and could not make herself swim another inch. She was in the grip of terror the likes of which she had never experienced. Standing before the portal had not even filled her with this level of fright.

“Keep your eyes forward.” Brad Phillips came up alongside Kaelin, grinning his usual lazy grin.

Kaelin looked up at him, her violet eyes large. She noted how handsome this male was. His body was liquid fire, warm and inviting.

“I'm Brad Phillips, from Earth.” He couldn't help but notice how long and elegant her body was, ending in a fine train of flesh that undulated sensually.

These Gentrans sure have a strange idea of what is appealing
.

“I'm Kaelin.” She allowed Brad to take one of her arms and lead her after the others who were so busy chattering with one another they did not even notice the two lagging behind.