Continuum (34 page)

Epir’s tone is measured, but the animosity rolling off his body is palpable, “Do you remember what I asked of you when I sent you for Fallon?  I trusted you to obey my orders because we are family.  But then you almost short circuit my most valuable commodity.  You've become a liability.  What I need is an asset.”  

From the pocket of his navy dress pants, Epir pulls out a small silver blade.  Without hesitation, he presses the blade against the delicate flesh of Fyro's throat.  “Father also knew when to cut his losses and end alliances.  Goodbye, brother.”  

It all happens so fast that I barely have time to turn away but there's no way to block out the sound of the blade tearing through Fyro's throat.  Nor does it block out the sound of Fyro gurgling and choking on his own blood.  I feel ill but I force back the bile threatening to bubble up my throat.  If I show any weakness now, Epir will only make it that much worse for me. 

Epir walks around until he's standing in front of me, not a speck of blood on shirt.  He calmly wipes his blade on a crisp white handkerchief, Fyro's blood slowly turning it pink.  “I expect your full cooperation for the duration of your stay.  Please do not disappoint me.”  He leans across the desk and presses the button to activate the screen,  “Send in the guards and have them escort my cousin to the guest room I had prepared.  Oh, and send someone to clean this mess up.”

Epir's security team reappears and they are either unsurprised or uncaring by the bloody sight of Fyro’s body slumped over in the chair next to mine.  Taking up the same positions, they drag me back to the staircase.  I am more aware of my surroundings this time around, adrenaline coursing through my veins.  

I vaguely note the ornate black wrought iron railing of the white marble stairs.  A lush, red carpet runs down the center of the steps--a stark bloody gash amongst the clean white.  I shake my head to clear the image of the knife pressed against Fyro’s throat.  We climb several floors and at the top of each floor, I glimpse lavishly decorated corridors before I’m whisked up another flight.  I wonder if I’m on the Eku royal palace.  Finally, I’m dragged down another long corridor and stop in front of a small black screen at the very end.

The front guard presses his left wrist against the panel and a door appears in the blank wall, sliding open.  The two guards gripping my arms shove me roughly into the room and I turn around just in time to watch the door slide into place.  The wall is smooth next to the door--no panel inside to open it.  The room is smaller than the office but with the same high ceilings.  It is painted a robin's egg blue with a gold filigree pattern.  An oval bed with gold bedding is placed against the wall with small round windows above it, set high in the wall.  Across from the bed are built in bookshelves filled with hard leather bound books.  Next to the shelves sits a delicate white dressing table with slender curved legs supporting an enormous gold mirror, carved with the same filigree pattern as the walls.  There is an adjoining room with a pristine white marble bathroom and gold fixtures.  Crystal bottles of various sizes filled with different pastel colored liquids line the marble perimeter of the egg shaped porcelain tub.  Even the nozzles and shower head are gold.  I feel like I'm being held prisoner in a gilded doll house.

Now that I am alone, the adrenaline dissipates leaving my legs weak.  I walk over to the other end of the room and slump onto the bed.  My mind is numb with fear and my body is still trembling from my earlier trauma.  I keep flashing on the silver blade against the pale flesh of Fyro’s throat.  I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push the image out of my mind.

Epir is obviously an unstable sociopath.  I can’t stay here, he won’t be satisfied with just killing me.  His thirst for vengeance is too great.  I just witnessed a flash of it back in his office.  He intends to kill everyone who has ever wronged him and everyone they ever cared about.  I have to try to figure out what to do next.  

I am several stories up, so climbing out the window seems unlikely.  And if I’m right about being inside the Eku royal palace, where would I run to?  Would anyone know to come for me?  The way Zefa crumpled over, Epir's instructions for how to handle my bodyguard probably weren't as specific.  Would he have hurt Ethan before he took me away?  Even though I was the one in immediate danger, I was worried about Zefa and Ethan.

I push myself into a standing position on the bed, I reach up so my fingertips hug the rim of the window.  I am standing on my tip toes, my nose level with the bottom of the high windows.  If I make it out of here, I need to get and idea of my surroundings.  I wouldn’t want to climb off the edge of a cliff. 

Daylight is quickly fading but I can see a perfectly manicured lawn that is surrounded by a high steel wall.  There is a hazy quality about the wall, like it’s humming.  Is it electrified?  A hologram?  I regret not learning more about Phynx and their more advanced technology.  I’m sure the Eku are equally advanced and that the wall is impermeable as it looks.

Beyond the wall is a heavily wooded area and even further out, I can just make out an overgrown, grassy field.  I sit back down on the edge of the bed and hold my head in my hands.  I close my eyes trying to think of an escape route.  Suddenly, a memory of lying in an overgrown field comes to the front of my mind.  I scramble up and quickly yank myself back up on my tip toes the bed and look out the window toward the field.  I've been there.  I've dreamt of that field.  I drop back down on the mattress and squeeze my eyes shut, concentrating on the feeling of the wet grass beneath my body.  

I am transported back to that place.  Night has fallen when I open my eyes and I am momentarily disorientated by the complete darkness.  I am no longer laying on the bed in my gilded prison, instead I am laying on the overgrown grass of the field miles away from the Eku palace.  

The sense of dread is heavy in my stomach.  I know I'm not supposed to be here.  Pulling my legs underneath me, I stand up to get my bearings.  But the wind is whipping fiercely and I don’t know which way leads to safety.  The clouds part and a pale beam of moonlight shines down on a lone figure in the distance, I cry out for help but no sound comes out.  I struggle against the gusting wind, walking toward the figure.  When I almost reach my destination, the figure turns around and the stars are reflected in his flat gray eyes.  
Epir
.

I open my eyes with a gasp.  I had never been able to recall a dream that vividly before.  I had never felt in control when it came to my dreams.  The memories usually scattered to the wind when I woke up.  But hadn't I started remembering my dreams?  At least the recent ones.  All those dreams I had about Ethan when I was exiled.  All those nights I spent talking to him in his dreams.  

Even more recently, earlier when I was still unconscious, I had been with Zefa.  I knew what had transgressed before we both ended up inside his head--he had been hurt badly but not dead. Not only had I been aware, I had purpose and acted of my own free will.  I don’t really understand how it works and I never got a chance to ask Zefa about my vivid dreams of Ethan.  

But everything from earlier is so clear, I had to have been conscious inside his dream--I’m sure of it.  I had been conscious in my shared dreams with Ethan when we were separated.  Maybe this was a new dimension of my ability that manifested because I needed Ethan.  When the pain was most unbearable, I had gone to him during those times of desperate loneliness.  I hadn't intended for it to happen, but it did.  

Before Fyro zapped me, I had seen Zefa on the ground.  Had my fear for his life and Ethan’s brought me into his dream?  Could I consciously decide to go to him now?  And then what?  How many lives would be risked to rescue mine?

An image of Zefa lying motionless on the ground flashes in my mind.  Fyro’s hate filled blue and gray stare.  Epir's cold steel blade pressed against Fyro's white throat.  His even colder gray eyes, indifferent to the blood spilled by his hand.  What other dangers lie in wait?  Fryo was not Epir’s only weapon.  

I knew so little of what my own mind was capable of, the possibilities of my enemies’ abilities is endlessly terrifying.  My eyelids are heavy and I let them flutter close.  I can’t think anymore, I'm so tired.  My body, mind, and soul feel battered--the type of weariness that furrows deep in your bones.  The final rays of light fade from the windows overhead and shortly after, sleep claims me.

Ethan

My body has been tensed for action since the moment I heard the back door slam open.  We left my house as soon as I treated and taped up Zefa’s head with some gauze.  I hope that my hastily scribbled note to my mom would suffice for whatever amount of the time I would be gone.  

We rode my motorcycle to the forest preserve as it would be a tad suspicious if I had left it behind.  Then Zefa had surprised me with his strength when he hoisted my bike up easily and carried it about half a mile into the forest before covering it with some foliage.  Now we are heading toward his ship.  Time seems to have slowed to a crawl.

As Zefa and I make our way through the dark forest, every sound makes me jump out of my skin.  Are there more coming back for us?  I am too preoccupied and filled with dread to be shocked by the strange space ship that Zefa makes materialize from thin air.  He presses his arm against the side of the ship and a door materializes, stairs sliding down to greet us.  

We climb up the stairs into the cabin area and head toward the front of the ship.  Zefa presses his arm against another screen built into the wall, it lights up and a door slides open revealing the cockpit.  He sits down and immediately starts tapping away frantically on the screens.  There is a quiet whir as the control panel starts flashing and lines of green start scrolling down the screen, picking up speed until they are a blur of movement.  His eyes are shifting back and forth, so at least he is fast enough to read them.  I take the seat next to him and hastily buckle myself into a multi-strap harness as he does the same.  

My body is jolted forward when we disengage from the ground.  I lean back in my seat and grip the armrests as we start pulling away.  The whole ship seems to be humming quietly as we ascend into the sky.  The higher we go, the faster we start moving and I watch as Earth quickly fades out of view.  I have travelled to many places in my life, but this was definitely a first.

I made Zefa explain what happened to him while I was fixing him up.  He gave me background about the war that has broken out between the Eku and the Phynx.  Then he told me about Fyro and the psionic blast.  Zefa is twice Fallon’s size and the pain had left him crumpled like a paper cup.  Fyro was the reason Fallon had returned to Earth.  She had dreamt of him coming after me.  Now he had her.

Every time I close my eyes, I can still hear her scream.  I feel sick thinking about what they would do to her.  Were they hurting her now?  I taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth as my teeth gnaw through my bottom lip, “What is the plan, Zefa?”

Zefa is still tapping away at the control panel, his voice cool and collected when he responds, “We go to Phynx.  It is nearly a day’s journey.  Not much we can do until then, you might as well try to get some rest.”

His calm demeanor enrages me and I slam my fists hard into the armrests, my hands tingling with pain.  “Do not dismiss me like that.  I need to know what is going to happen.  You were supposed to protect her.”

My words makes him pause his tapping and turns to face me, his shoulders slump and his tone is defeated, “I know I have failed in my duty.  We are returning to Phynx.  Those are my orders.  What will happen next is out of my hands now.”  Zefa turns to face forward once again, his hands resting on the control panel as random buttons flash.  His eyes are fixed on the three black rings tattooed on his left forearm.  

“Do those lines on your arm mean anything?”

Holding up his left hand, he turns his arm to examine the lines encircling his forearm.  After a moment he responds, “They designate my status in Phynx.  The first ring is for my allegiance to the Phynxian king.  The second ring is for my rank as second in command of the Phynxian army.  The third ring is... for my betrothed,” he tilts his head with an ironic smile on his lips.  

“Couldn’t anyone just go get that done?”

“Not quiet, these are done with a special type of ink that imbeds microchips in your skin.  When my arm is scanned, they know exactly who I am.”

“I see.  So no identity theft then?”

“Nothing is fail proof.  It’s a complicated system, I will have to explain it to you another time.  Try and get some rest, there will be a lot going on after we land and I am certain you will want to be involved.”

Nodding, I lean back against the chair and try to relax enough to sleep.  I needed to rest so that I could be strong for Fallon.  My body is worn out but my brain is buzzing and when I close my eyes, Fallon’s scream echoes through my mind.  

Zefa’s voice breaks through my half asleep haze.  “Ethan, wake up.  We are almost there.”

“Wha’s goin’ on?” I mumble.  My neck is stiff and my mouth feels dry.

I have barely slept at all and when I did, it was a fitful sleep.  My mind feels foggy.  “We will be entering the Phynxian atmosphere momentarily.  We have been given priority clearance to land.  Izic will be meeting us at the hub.”

Shaking my head, I push myself up from my slumbering position and straighten up in my seat, gripping the armrests as the ship loses altitude.  I clear my throat to try and get the gruffness out and it takes several blinks before my vision focuses.  We break through the cloud cover and the view is... otherworldly.

Up ahead I see thousands of small white domes connected to one central large white dome.  Even from this height, I can see the same red symbol painted on it as Zefa’s ship.  My knuckles turn white as I grip the armrests harder, the ground seems to be rushing up to meet us at an alarming speed.  With a wide turn, Zefa steers us smoothly into one of the domes that has split open to allow us to land.  Jets of air spit out of the bottom of the ship, providing a cushion as we descend and I am only slightly jarred as we touch down.