Heir of Shandara (Book 4) (10 page)

Sarah’s gaze bored into his. “Then you would have done what had to be done.”

“I won’t do it,” Aaron said.

“I trust that when the time comes for action to be taken, you will do what you believe is best in your heart,” Sarah replied.

They didn’t say anything for a few moments, and Aaron silently cursed the distance between them. He wanted to be with Sarah and not speaking through a damned comms device.
 

“I keep hearing the Eldarin. At first, it was only in my dreams, but it’s coming more frequently. It’s like they are close but just out of reach. I don’t know how to help them, and I need to. Not only because of what they’ve done for me, but they are tied to this.”

“How?” Sarah asked.

“All life is connected. The Eldarin are able to traverse different planes of existence. But with one of them infected with the Ryakul virus, I feel like things are spiraling out of balance. They’re not ordinary Dragons. They are something else entirely. Something… more.”

“You could seek out Tolvar’s help. He might be able to guide you in this,” Sarah said.

“That’s a really good idea. I hadn’t thought of him,” Aaron said, remembering the mysterious group of people that roamed the lands. He and Sarah had spent barely a day and night among them, but they had been able to shield themselves from the Drake somehow. Tolvar had known his grandfather, Reymius, before he went to Earth. Aaron hadn’t seen or heard from Tolvar since before they first traveled to Shandara. It was Tolvar who’d revealed his presence to the Hythariam, and they had come just in time to save his life.
 

“Tolvar will be disappointed if you’re not with me,” Aaron said.

Sarah shook her head. “I’m sorry, my love. I must return to Khamearra. Rordan has turned up there.”

Aaron frowned. “Can’t Isaac handle this?”

“They don’t know Rordan like I do,” Sarah said.

He couldn’t tell much from Sarah based upon the holo display alone, but something was tugging at him. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can meet you in Khamearra. We can do this together.”

“No. I will deal with Rordan. You need to focus on the Zekara and the Eldarin. Do you have the staff with you?”
 

“It’s here,” Aaron said.

“You must carry it. Do not fear the Eldarin.”

“I fear that I might not be able to help them,” Aaron said, but he didn’t give voice to his other fear that had been gnawing away at him.
 

The High King’s words echoed in his mind.
You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The thirst. That feeling of holding people’s lives in your hands. They are so easy to manipulate and control.
Aaron had used his abilities to open his companions up to the energy, but there was more he could do. The High King had used everyone around him. He had corrupted what it meant to be Ferasdiam marked: those chosen by the Goddess. The ones marked by fate. Aaron clamped down on his racing thoughts. He wouldn’t be like the High King.
Even if it’s the difference between victory and defeat for all of Safanar?
Aaron brushed aside the dark thoughts and drew in the energy around him. He reached through his connection to Sarah, seeing the golden brilliance of her lifebeat, but there was something different. A brighter flare that hadn’t been present before.

Sarah gasped. “Stay safe, my love. I shall contact you tomorrow,” she said quickly, and the holo display went dark.

The moment passed, and Aaron shrugged his shoulders. Another time he would ask her about what he saw.
 

C
HAPTER
10

ATTACK

North of the kingdom of Rexel was an ancient watchtower called Elden Hold. It had been hundreds of years since the people who inhabited the lands beyond Rexel’s immediate borders had pledged their loyalty. The troops of the watchtower mostly dealt with bandits who preyed upon trade caravans that moved through the area. Aaron and the others had set up camp within view of the ancient tower. An airship formerly from the Rexellian Air Corp, and now of the Free Nations Army, had been dispatched to scout the area. Scouting efforts with the airship had ceased the moment they learned that the Zekara’s path led them straight to the watchtower on their way to Rexel.

“How is it that now we can see them coming but not before?” Verona asked.

“It was the airship captain,” Aaron said. “Then it was later confirmed by the flyer-class SPT.”

“Wait, I know this one,” Verona said, pressing his lips in thought. “Stealth Personnel Transport. For all the Hythariam’s technological wonders, they aren’t very imaginative with their names.”

“We’re a practical race,” Tanneth said. “I supposed that if
you
were to name the vessel, it would be something flashy like Shadow Stalker.”

Verona laughed, as did the others. “Don’t be silly. Shadow Stalker is a terrible name. Were I of a mind to put a name to the flyer-class SPT, it would be with more style than the simple names you give to such wondrous things.”

“This should be good,” Aaron said, and the others waited for Verona.

“Nighthawk,” Verona said after a moment, and nodded to himself. “That’s what I would call it.”

“Truly, your ability to name our machines is awe inspiring,” Tanneth said dryly.

The others around them laughed, and Verona joined in.

“Fine, we’ll stick with your non-imaginative name, but I will come up with something better,” Verona promised. “Aaron, on Earth what do they call ships like what the Hythariam have?”

“Oh, um,” Aaron stammered. “I wasn’t in the military.”

“Surely they named their airships and the like,” Verona said.

“Of course. I think they were named with the job they were designed for. Off the top of my head one was called a Strike Eagle.”

“Strike Eagle! Now that’s a name. Much more imaginative than what the Hythariam call their ships,” Verona said.

Tanneth shrugged his shoulders and laughed. Aaron caught Bayen watching them and waved him over. Much to his surprise, the young man came to join them. At the same moment, Verona’s comms device chimed, and he moved off to the side. Reinforcements had been arriving, steadily swelling their ranks. Upon learning that General Halcylon had the Zekara on the move, Aaron proposed to take a fighting force north to strike at them. Gavril, the most seasoned soldier among the Hythariam, seconded the idea. Hopefully, this would buy time for the people of Rexel to build up fortifications. He would also look for an opportunity to take Halcylon out. That was the riskiest and the least-known part of his plan with their small army.

“Who is he talking to?” Marek asked. The man was in his mid-forties and was of the Safanarion Order. Not all of the Order had been at Shandara when the kingdom fell. Some had been able to escape, though while still being hunted by the Elitesmen. Marek and more of the Safanarion Order had returned during the battle with the High King’s army.

“He’s talking to Roselyn,” Aaron said, glancing at Verona, who wore a puzzled expression.

Verona closed his comms link and rejoined them. “Our job gets a bit more interesting, it seems. Roselyn and the other Hythariam scientists need for us to collect samples of the Forsaken, should we encounter them. They can’t make a cure for the virus without them.”

The soldiers who had seen and fought the Forsaken glanced at the others. All had the grim set lines to their face that no amount of additional armor could protect against. Word had quickly spread about what had befallen those who became infected with the Ryakul virus.

“A sample? We’re heading into battle, not some stroll through the forest,” one soldier said.

Aaron held up his hands, drawing their attention to him. “This is important. Without a cure, everyone else could become infected. It doesn’t matter who you are. A virus can strike indiscriminately.”

“Except the Hythariam,” another soldier said.

Aaron glanced at the FNA soldiers around him. They each came from different parts of Safanar. Some from Khamearra, others from Rexel. Former members of the Elitesmen Order were peppered through their ranks, along with the Hythariam. Guilt can weigh heavier than a mountain, and Aaron saw it reflected in the gaze of every Hythariam he saw.

“You’re correct,” Aaron said. “The Hythariam as of right now are not affected by this plague, but look around you. This divide that would force a wedge between us is exactly what the Zekara want. General Halcylon wants us to fight among ourselves. It will make his job of extermination easier. Do not be fooled that what the Zekara throw at us will have no effect on the Hythariam. What affects one of us affects all of us. The Hythariam among you stand at your side as comrades at arms. We created the Free Nations Army to stand against the threat to this world, side by side. That doesn’t mean we stand without fear. It means we stand together to meet this threat and defeat it together. It’s our commitment to remain united even in the face of our death. Especially in the face of our death. That’s what Halcylon and his Zekara cannot take from us. That’s what is going to see us through the eve of these dark times. There is no them or us. Not in the FNA. We are Safanarions, and we will stand together.”

There was no great cheer that erupted from the soldiers’ lips, and Aaron didn’t expect any. What he saw was the blaze of grim determination reflected in all those around him, and it filled his heart. His gaze swept the crowd and lingered for a moment upon Bayen, whose scowl had vanished from his face, replaced by hard determination.

“Well said, my friend,” Verona said.

“They needed it,” Aaron said. “Now, how are we supposed to collect samples? What exactly does Roselyn need?”

Verona swallowed grimly. “This is where it gets messy. These are her terms. Ideally, living tissue, but parts from any victim will help.”

Aaron frowned. “Living tissue. She wants us to capture someone who has been infected,” Aaron said, bringing his fingers up to rub the bridge of his nose in thought. “I’m open to ideas.”

“I doubt we can knock one out, and judging by the way they moved, a pit wouldn’t work either, as they would just scale the walls,” Verona said.

“Your Grace, I have a suggestion,” Marek said. “The Elitesmen were quite skilled with hunting people down and capturing them. Perhaps they have a few tricks up their sleeves that could help us.”

Aaron nodded. “Put to good use for a change. Would you mind checking into it and letting us know?”

Marek saluted with a fist across his heart and left them.

“Do you have any ideas, Tanneth?” Aaron asked.

“Capturing is not among my skills,” Tanneth said, frowning. “I think we’ll need to try a few different things.”

“Agreed; if we see an opportunity, then we should take it,” Aaron said.

Tanneth left them to go make some preparations.

“Things were much simpler when we were just facing the High King,” Verona mused.

“I don’t think they were simpler, but…” Aaron caught Verona’s telling gaze. “No, I won’t do it.”

“My friend, whether you like it or not, it
is
an option.”

Aaron clenched his teeth. “I won’t become
him,
Verona.”

“No one is saying you have to be the High King. The man was evil, malicious, and cruel. None of those describe who you are,” Verona said.

“I won’t seize control of anyone in a battle or any other time.”
 

“Even if the difference is between victory and defeat?”

“What would we have won then? You would trade one tyrant for another.”

“My friend, I believe in you. I trust you. You are the brother that I never had. There is no way that you could ever walk the same path as the High King.”

“He was Ferasdiam marked.”

“So what? Ferasdiam marked may be
what
you are, but that doesn’t define
who
you are,” Verona said.

Aaron knew in his heart that Verona spoke the truth, yet still the fear remained. Desperation has a way of dooming the souls of all.

“You could try using your power to capture one of the Forsaken,” Verona suggested mildly.

Aaron frowned. “I don’t think so. If they’re anything like the Ryakuls, then I’m not sure that will work. I have the same reaction to them as the Dragons, remember.”

Verona shrugged his shoulders. “How could I forget the day we met? Still, we’ve both come a long way since then.”