Original Souls (A World Apart #1) (5 page)

"Why am I doing this you say, boy?" he cried out, with traces of cynicism through and through. "I'm doing this because no one else has the guts to master the El Muerte Vivo curse. Not a soul. Better yet, to challenge the glory of a Secretist!"

I have no idea what the El Muero Viv is, or that other thing. But I know this guy is creeping me out more and more with every word. As he hovered in the air with his llave spinning in front of him, he started to gravitate toward the altar. I'd say he was only six or seven feet out from it, but it seems he wants to get a closer look at his specimen. The object in question still lay there on top of the altar, just as oddly as I noticed it when it began to rise. Then the tensed atmosphere shifted even further into madness.

The old man flung his hand through the dust in the air, and the white sheet that covered the altar responded to his will immediately. It flew off of his subject, revealing a shocking sigh
t—
that I should have seen coming. My boy, Corinth, is his victim. It should've clicked earlier, but I can't think straight with so many variables involved. Still, I can't begin to imagine what he could have to do with all of this. How the heck did they get him here? I'm not even sure what's going on, but I've got to get him down and out of this building. The situation kicked into overdrive, and I tried to as well. But I do
n’
t have a clue how to sensibly do that.

Looking at him up there, I can see his face and I know it well. Yet I feel I hardly recognize him as that little boy that craved chocolate all the time. Smoldering Golds, his favorite brand. Our favorite brand. Now that same boy, whom I haven't seen for nearly two years, is lying defenseless on that spiraling altar. Up against the grandfather from hell. I won't let him slip through my fingers again.

From the back, near the door, someone yelled out, "Criston, get down now!" The doorway was too clouded up with smoke, I couldn't make out the voice or see the person. The aura blasts sent debris from the floor and the walls flying everywhere I looked. The room was big, but so was that hole in the ground and the growing fire. The dust was spreading out from the middle of the room, where the altar towered over me, and then farther toward the back wall where the voice came from. Whoever is near the creepy frontier door is going to be taking backseat to Corinth.

"How dare you intrude on this sacred ritual? We must perform th
e
— TRANSFER!" the old man shouted down to me and whoever else was stocking the grounds in this dead man's labyrinth. "This child has been chosen by the Bone Creator to unleash the Chain of Divinity, without any objections. He must deliver the Nexus to the Worlds, to bring forth the New Age Order, rue drawn from the iron fisted Bone. All who stand in our way will be obliterated," he droned on like a sidewalk maniac, then shouted out.

"YAY-Y-Y!!!!!"

He let out a terrifying screech that sent shockwaves through the air. I guess peanut-butter tongue could annunciate when he wanted to. The sharp, deafening noise left me disoriented, but I used all my will to concentrate. I let myself look from just beneath the table, and I could see the air vibrating like some sort of vortex in deep space. The sound was such a high pitch that it woke Corinth from whatever spell he must have been under. He was awake now. I knew right away that this was my chance to try to do something. Something to get his attention, so I can get him down without using magik, putting him in even more danger. I was about to shout up to him, but before I could get out a word, I heard an absorption gun go off.

CRACK!!!
Goes the heavy gun. ~ A heavy, dark precession of cloaked transparent netting thrust through the fire, dust, and screeching shockwaves created by the old Peligroso dude. The blast casted a deep shadow over my ears. The silence crept in, and all I could hear was a constant buzzing. I must have been well within the blast radius, and now I know who was calling out to me. I assumed then, and know for sure now that my Squadron team members were in the coffin filled room with me. But unfortunately, I'm starting to leave it. Passing out twice on one mission isn't fun. The absorption guns are really useful tools in the presence of magik. They suck all the energy out of any host wielding it. After the old Gente Peligroso guy blasted that whole in the ground, I goaded him on with my own spells. Though I wasn't trying to miss my mark, as he seemed to be. But now, I'm being drained of all my energy because of it. I guess that's why the guys told me to get down. I wish I had listened.

March 25, 1002 ~ Midday

Julia definitely didn't like my thoughts on how to protect Corinth from the Gente Peligroso, or the swarm of other things the red-eyed man mentioned back at the factory. She had her own, more radical, ideas about the matter. She couldn't believe he'd been found, and neither could I. By my squad no less. Seems so perfect, but nothing's ever just perfect here in Draconia. I know by now to take note of that. I'm the only member of my squad that really knows what went down at the factory. She's been probing me for information ever since I woke up from my absorption gun induced coma.

Those guns are fiendlike. Evan's gun sucked so much energy out of me that it left me stranded in this coma for nearly four whole days. Last Tuesday, myself and nineteen of the finest Squadron members entered that creepy factory. I learned today that only fifteen of those fine men came back out with me. It was a devastating blow when Evan broke the news. He tried to do it as easy as he knew how. So he blurted it out while one of Julia's doctor friends went over my chart. I know how disastrous he is with bad news, but this was completely unexpected. Though when Corinth first went missing, he thought that sending us a card, while avoiding the facts, was a better idea than having a friendly chat. I don't think they make a card that says sorry your child was kidnapped. I guess that's why he decided to make it himself. This time around he was just as clumsy with his emotions. The doctor says, 'her
e’
s how your vitals look.'Then Evan goes
,‘
four men were killed during our investigation.' The doctor excused himself just a moment after Evan shocked us with that tragic revelation.

"I guess there's a first time for everything, right?" I said with my head hung low while propped up in my hospital bed. My throat ached so much that my voice was weak and faint. Those dreadful words flew out of my mouth and off my lips like little boomerangs. They bounced off of a speechless Evan, and came back to hit me hard.

I feel responsible. I am responsible for what happened back there. I hope the others understand that sometimes men are lost. That sometimes we try our best, but it isn't enough. I've done what I could to lead strong, but I wasn't prepared for that kind of ambush. No one could be. I don't know if my men will respect me after this. At Squadron, the fault always lies with the commander. Tha
t’
s me, so I can only imagine what's to come once I return to headquarters. I feel guilty, but not for the lives lost. We all know the risk and have to live with that. I feel guilty about my lack of concern for my men's safety after realizing Corinth was the kid in question on our mission.

Once I saw his face, he became my focus. I completely zoned out on the possibility that the four men that ventured ahead in that intersection with me could have been in serious danger. I barely thought of them after I came too, awakening from that hospital-like illusion. They weren't in the illusion with me and they weren't there when I woke up. They must have been dragged away by the sun-dried old man that first appeared with the cheetah girl, and then mysteriously reappeared to claim my son. I put my personal life ahead of mission control, and I can't say that I'm ashamed of that. I care for my men, but Corinth's life is mine to protect, not theirs.

"I'm sorry I just blurted it out like that, it just didn't seem like there would ever really be a good time to say what I had to say," Evan explained with a quiet tone.

I thought for a moment, and then I encouragingly responded. "You're right, things like that don't have a right moment or time they can be said. Either way it's going to be sad, but I'm glad you're here with me now." Evan smiled and started to walk out of my hospital room, but I had to know something before he went. "Was it difficult to put that Gente Peligroso behind bars?" I called out to him before he could shut the door. When he turned back to me, his demeanor changed. He became stiff and sick looking. He looked at the ground as if it were about to come alive and tell him something gravely important.

"He got away, Criston," Evan said with a timid look in his eyes that showed just how much he was disappointed in himself. When I'm down, Evan's next in the chain of command. He had the same feelings weighing on his mind. That the mission failure is his fault.

I tried reassuring him. "Look at it this way, we went in to find a missing boy, and we came out with my son. The guys lost in action,and the peligroso guy aside, we did accomplish our intended goal. That's nothing to be ashamed of," I insisted and believed it too. But couldn't believe the guy got away. Yo
u’
d think they were aiming the gun at him, so he should've been out as well, if not worse off for it. But maybe he was even more powerful than I could have possibly thought up while tangling with him. Evan looked stronger as he walked out of the room. I was glad to know that he was as happy as Julia and I are. Corinth could finally start again with some sense of a normal life after all he's been through.

As he left, she came in. Julia. She slinked in with the confidence of a corporate executive. Who just so happens to have a heart of gold. She's a keen woman, no damsel in distress-like nature about her. Yet she's as delicate as they come. Her long brown hair was down today. A jean jacket, tight white T-shirt and a black ruffled skirt made her look much more youthful than the nurse uniform that she usually donned when at a hospital. Her eyelashes looked as dense as a forest. As dark as night. Her eye color as green as a lawyers mind, heart, soul, and wallet.

Julia's out of this World, quite literally. Because she's not from Draconia, where our son and I were both born. Julia is from La Envidia. That's why her eyes are a different color than almost everyone she comes across in Draconia. She's strong enough to withstand the discrimination she receives for being a foreigner married to a native, with a mixed race son. Corinth was superbly unique for this. There weren't many like him. Especially in Draconia.

Even with the building of the Puente del Cielo, commonly called the sky bridge, the Worlds seem just as far apart as they were before the dawn of modern times. Maybe even further I think some days.

The bridge was erected to bring us closer, but more so it was built as an accessible trade route through each World. It's always about money or power in Draconia, they're inescapable themes. Around that time, the 8ights Council also spawn to life. The Chancellors of the eight Worlds reformed a relation lost through the Ancestry Wars. The 8ights Council reflects the original Great Eight, as they're known.

The Great Eight started each individual World. Draconia was started by he himself, Drake. This all is said to have occurred somewhat over a millennium ago. He was also said to be the most generous person to ever live. By Draconian scholars at least. If that's true than he would be horrified to know what Draconia has become. Magik being outlawed, and I assume the language change would really throw him off too.

"Criston,"...

Some Worlds, like Lirio, still speak Maledictus. That cursed lang
u
—

"Criston!"

"Hey, I saw you there the whole time." Julia turned up her mouth, looking pissed off, but understanding. I did really see her while I was deep in thought. The only problem is I don't really want to talk to her anymore. Naturally, the conversation begins on nice terms, but I know where it's headed. She grabbed what she could of my short black hair and pulled hard, standing beside my hospital bed. "Owww!" I yelled, because my head already ached. "I'm sorry, I was daydreaming away," I told her, "about you of course," I threw in for good measure.

She wasn't having any of it though. She could see straight through me, even from a mile away, I'm sure. She stared into my overly large blue eyes and started to weep. She was breaking down, the stress of the weeks apart. Worse, the absolute shock of recovering our son. She threw her arms around me, and I pulled her into my hospital bed with the last drop of strength I still had in my arms.

"I
t’
s been two years too long," she said with a heavy heart. "He's virtually been raised by his captors for twenty whole months. What can we do, how do we make this right, Cris?"

She was gripping on my left bicep as I held her here in bed with me. I was springtimefit and ready for the summer months. The job at Squadron picks up with the heat, so w
e’
re all informed to be ready for action during those particular months of the year. I considered myself to be more lean than muscular, and with my six-foot-two frame, it's always a breeze to take down suspects of any type. My strong jaw and slightly sunken-in cheeks touched against the supple skin of Julia's forehead. She was pressed up against me for comfort and from fear of the unknown. We had talked earlier about what we could do to give Corinth a sheltered approach back into the world, but Julia was a bit off her rocker. She had drastic plans that would do our family no good.