Storm of Arranon Fire and Ice (23 page)

I would need to act quickly. Make sure
Jaer’s injuries aren’t severe. Take his body before his mind and
his will fights me
.

Jaer slipped the COM over his ear and
adjusted a dial. “Copy, clear for take-off.”

The hatch glided into position, sealing with
a quiet hiss.

I will do this. My will is
stronger
.

Engines whined, their roar building.

Dhoran smiled. “Thanks, Jaer. For flying me
to Pragsuin.” He nodded. “I understand now how much you’re helping
me.” His heart rate and respirations increased. Whether the reason
was Nev’s fear or Dhoran’s excitement didn’t matter.

Ah, I understand Nev. I told you I would
return your body when I’d finished with it. I lied.

Jaer took the controls and the craft hovered
off the pad, gliding to the edge. A red light flashed, and an alarm
blared in the small compartment of the cockpit.

“What’s happened?” Dhoran’s gaze jumped from
Jaer to the forward panel.

Jaer turned the ship and set down on the
scramble pad.

Cale ran through the hangar to the pad, his
face lined with concern.

The engines cycled down. Their whine faded.
The hatch opened with a depressurized whoosh.

Cale leaned into the hatch. “Jaer. It’s Roni
and Zach. There’s trouble.”

Jaer unbuckled, shoved out of the seat, and
followed Cale through the hangar bay.

“Hmmm. Guess my plans have changed yet
again.” Nev’s relief flowed through Dhoran while he unstrapped,
grabbed his pack, and exited the ship. He left the hangar and
headed toward the transport bay. His intention all along was to
take a land vehicle by himself to a portal.

Well, there is only one portal I can use
now. Stone. The portal of fire at Deanaim is closed to me and has
been for generations. The water threshold is useless without the
dagger, and the one in Farglas Lake needs a winter’s worth of snow
and ice to access. That won’t happen for weeks, maybe
months
.

Dhoran checked out a small, all-terrain
transport from the bay chief, Whill.

“Sorry about your flight, Byan.” Whill
slapped the gray metal side of the tracked vehicle. “She’ll get you
where you’re going, but it won’t be as fast.”

“This is fine, thank you.” Dhoran threw his
pack on the passenger side and climbed into the driver’s seat. He
would reach the portal in two days. A transition station
underground would take him the rest of the way to the trialath, and
Erynn. This whole charade was nearly over.

Jaer ran in front of Cale and took the metal
steps up to the dimly lit control room three at a time. His
heartbeat pounded in his temples with his rising sensation of
dread, the pulsing throb whooshing in his ears. The only light came
from the monitors and a small lamp over the center of the clean
workspace. Jaer leaned over the console and stared at the middle
screen, into the face of Kerk, a new Anbas from Paedrick.

“Fayn. We were attacked—ambushed—outnumbered
five to one.” Kerk grimaced and wiped at blood dripping from a gash
over his left eye. “Zach rushed the assailants, pushed us back,
told us to guard the council. He…He’s dead, Fayn. I’m sorry.”

Jaer stiffened, his jaw tight. His stomach
lurched and rolled. “Are the rest of you all right? Where are you
now? Where’s Roni?”

Kerk sucked in a deep breath. “Roni’s been
taken to surgery. We’re all here, at the medical facility in
Tamaagra, waiting…waiting for…They don’t…They don’t think she’ll
make it, Fayn.” The last of his stored air rushed out with the
grave news. He turned away for a moment, nodding to someone behind
him. “She jumped in to help Zach. Fayn, she saved us. Zach and Roni
saved us and most of Tamaagra’s council members.”

Jaer’s hands fisted. “Who did this?” His
teeth ground and he shook his head, dropping into a seat. His gut
clenched, his mind going over the assignment. This was to be a
simple mission, fact finding only. Jaer couldn’t help but believe
he’d missed something in the information given him.

Zach’s death is my fault. And Roni…No,
Roni is still alive. She will be okay. She has to be
.

“How?” Jaer’s whispered question swirled in
the silence of the small room.

Kerk’s face screwed in pain. He nodded.
“There had been no further attacks in or around the city. The
council called us in to their chambers. They wanted an update on
what we’d found.” He snorted, and his lips jerked in a sneer. “A
trap. Someone knew where we’d be, all of us together. The building
was quiet, the halls dark, everyone gone for the day. We never made
it inside the council’s chambers.” Kerk licked his lips and wiped
the blood from his cheek again. “The attack came from all around
us.” He stared into the monitor. “We’ve failed you, Fayn. Three of
the fifteen council members of Tamaagra are dead.”

Jaer frowned. “Who—”

“That’s the difficult part of this whole
thing, Fayn.” Kerk shook his head. Blood flew in fine droplets
across the screen. “They weren’t Shifters, not inside the building.
They were human.”

“Do you have prisoners?”

“No, Fayn. They fought to the death. All of
them.” A satisfied grin flitted across Kerk’s expression.

Jaer understood the young man’s reaction. He
also relished in the death of those who had killed Zack, injured
Roni, and murdered three council members.

“Dhoran is rallying followers from the
surface.” Cale stood behind Jaer, his arms crossed over his chest.
“They act in his service.”

“If they have organized already, this
quickly…” Jaer’s thoughts splintered into a hundred possibilities,
all of them unpleasant. He spun in his chair and stared up at
Cale.

Cale dropped his arms. “I’ve heard rumors,
murmurs of old cults gaining in number, waiting for Dhoran’s
return. With Dhoran back, they grow bold. Dhoran promises wealth,
power, and distinction. He makes his commands as a ruler, already
believing he’s won. This confident attitude feeds his followers’
courage.”

Jaer turned to Kerk. “I will leave now. I can
be in Tamaagra within forty-five timnents.” Jaer pushed out of the
chair and leaned into the screen, fists braced against the desktop.
“I expect a detailed debriefing when I arrive.” He straightened and
dropped his gaze. “Go, tend to your injuries.”

The screen went dark.

Cale stared at the blank monitor. “Had your
Anbas not been in Tamaagra, the entire council would be dead now. I
hope Erynn contacts you soon. We need to learn where she is and
what she’s discovered. Knowing where those portals are and closing
them is our only chance to block Dhoran.” Cale turned and started
toward the door. He stopped, staring out at nothing, his expression
grave. “War is coming. Soon.”

ERYNN WINCED AT THE SUDDEN return of
brightness. The Anim Blath glowed brilliant and strong above her,
no longer pulsing. She glanced around. Socar Batahs’ relieved
voices, shaded with a lingering alarm, hummed through the warm air.
A blanket of softly murmured words surrounded her in a cocoon, a
respite after the unsettling visions shown her and the deep roaring
voices of the Anim Blath only she heard.

Fear and concern radiated from the Socar
Batahs, breaking through the cover shielding her. Emotions showered
down, falling like fat drops of acid rain. Other emotions tumbled
against her, sharp and abrasive. She closed her eyes and narrowed
her exposure. Her nerves were too raw, too sensitive to bear any
more.

A brusque tug on her arm brought the present
crashing in.

A young male Socar Batah jerked her around to
face him. Panic and rage tapped at her thin shell of resistance.
His frightened and alarmed expression was only partially concealed
under dark hair whipping wildly with his angry gestures. “You
caused the Anim Blath to fail us.” He pulled Erynn close. His flat
nose was centimeters from hers. “Your presence displeases
them.”

Tine stepped in and pried the young male’s
fingers off Erynn. “Stop,” Tine barked in a menacing growl. “Think
about this.”

Erynn wrenched free from both of them. Purple
static spun around and through her. Electricity snapped and popped.
Currents jumped and crackled, the hurting kind. “If you believe the
Anim Blath doesn’t want me here, then let me leave.” She glanced to
the radiance glowing above, making daylight in what should be
suffocating inky blackness. Erynn understood their apprehension.
Their lives would change drastically if the Anim Blath no longer
radiated light. But that wasn’t the substance of the message she’d
received from the Anim Blath. Their crucial message to her was all
about Dhoran and the war he planned.

Her body tensed and her jaw tightened. “You
communicate with them. What did they tell you?”

A crowd gathered, Socar Batahs to the front,
while Shifters kept their distance in the rear.

Tine reached out. “Erynn, the Anim Blath
don’t communicate that way, it’s more—”

Erynn stepped back, shaking her head. “Don’t
touch me, Tine. Not a good idea to touch me right now.” She spun,
glaring at the circling group. “Dhoran is coming. He brings war.
What will you gain from a battle with the surface? More important,
what will you lose?”

A Shifter pushed forward. “I understand your
words. You speak our language. How is that possible?” Without
waiting for a response he went on, his articulations guttural and
hissing, but understandable. “Dhoran promises us the surface and
all its rewards. He will rule both realms.”

Erynn stepped up to the Shifter. “You’re
right. Dhoran wants to rule both. He’s tried before and failed. Not
once, but twice.” She scanned those gathered. “Even if he were to
win a war with the surface, how would that change anything for
those of you that manage to survive?”

A Socar Batah yelled, “The outer world would
be ours!”

Erynn turned toward the irritated voice, hers
equally harsh. “But you still couldn’t live above.” Her tone
softened and she dropped her gaze. “What do you want from the
surface?”

Syrana stepped past Tine, her jaw set.
“Spices, herbs, medicinal plants. No one should die because I don’t
have the remedies to heal them.”

Another shouted out. “Grains for baking.
Fruits, green vegetables. Fresh
esic
and
braefin
from
your oceans, lakes, and streams. We live on roots, red meat, and
the occasional
slire
Bane manages to catch.” He laughed with
a mocking guffaw. “I prefer the variety you enjoy.”

“Wood for our fires,” an older female with
long gray hair croaked. “I live alone. I must choose between having
cooked food and being warm or suffer difficult trips to the
surface.”

“Color,” a young female offered. The three
that stood next to her nodded. “Bright fabrics for clothing and to
decorate our homes.” She pulled a worn, tattered paper from her
pocket, unfolded the crinkled page, and held a picture out for
Erynn. Faded red, yellow, purple, and teal aleuns perched against
deep-green foliage. An iridescent blue ocean against a sparkling
white beach filled the background.

“Light, and not from fires. My old eyes grow
dim.” The speaker chuckled, but not with amusement.

A disharmony of bellowed wants and needs
surged over Erynn. She held up her hands, trying to quiet the
crowd. “Wait. Listen.” Her words were lost in a riptide of angry
shouts. Wispy filaments wound between her fingers. The group’s
complaining intensified, their irritation mounting. This gathering
would quickly become dangerous if she didn’t do something.

Erynn released the pulsing currents in a blue
flash.

The air thickened. Time slowed. Everyone
froze in the moment.

Erynn slid between the Socar Batahs and the
Shifters. She moved to the pier and out onto the end over the
water. The bright electric wave receded, found her, and pulled
inward.

Socar Batahs and Shifters gazed open mouthed.
They glanced with jerky movements among each other, searching for
her.

Time caught up.

She took in a deep breath. Her hands shook,
and her knees threatened to buckle. That had taken more out of her
than usual. She was still weak from eight days of unconsciousness.
“I’m here,” she called faintly.

The group swung as one toward her voice.
Gasps ensued, and the female Socar Batahs backed up several paces.
The males made no rush forward. Shifters hissed and ducked their
black oily heads, thin dark arms held protectively before them.

“Now listen to me, or I’ll transport myself
again. And not just to another place in the trialath. I’ll return
to the surface.” Erynn knew this wasn’t an option, but with any
luck, they didn’t.

“
Calliach
!” the old female Socar Batah
screamed and reached a bony hand toward the Anim Blath.

Sorcerer
?
Hope this doesn’t get me
burned at the stake
.

Erynn stomped up the pier and shouted, “I’m
no more a calliach than Dhoran.” She hesitated and stopped when
they scrambled back. “In fact, Dhoran and I are alike. I have a
mixed parentage from Korin and Arranon. This blending has given
me…abilities. Like Dhoran’s mixed heritage between the two realms
of Arranon has given him special powers.”

She continued to the end of the decking
anchored to the shore. This position gave her height over the Socar
Batahs and Shifters. “Everything you want from the surface can be
yours without war.” Erynn called over them and smiled. “There’s a
simple way to achieve all you desire.”

Tine took Syrana’s hand and pulled her
forward. He stood below, gazing up at Erynn. “What is this simple
solution?” His tone relayed doubt. “You dare to deceive us after
all we’ve done for you?” His eyes flashed with the presumed
insult.

Erynn jumped off the pier to the stone and
glared up at Tine. “You mean like holding me prisoner?” she
whispered. “Establish trade with the surface,” Erynn said in a
loud, confident tone, gazing around to those watching her.