Read Reborn (The Cartographer Book 2) Online
Authors: Craig Gaydas
Reborn (The Cartographer Book 2) (41 page)
“My precognition is failing,” he muttered. The room offered a silent acknowledgement.
How could I have missed the attack on Vaire?
Not a single image of the attack came to him. He was losing his ability to foresee. If he lost that, command of the Consortium would surely follow. Command of the Consortium has been in his family for generations and he refused to lose it on his watch. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
“Come in.”
Hark-Kalech entered the room with Varooq in tow. They looked as grim as he felt. “The fleet is in place, sir,” Hark-Kalech said.
Meta noticed that both were dressed for battle. Varooq had a rifle strapped to his back and a grenade belt fitted around his thick, hairy waist. Hark-Kalech wore a long slender dagger with a handle carved in the image of a daggerfish—the deadliest beast in the Caelum Sea. The weapon was a normal accessory for the senior officers of the Aquanauts. He also had a holstered hand cannon by his side and wore the angular, golden battle helmet of the Defense Fleet. Since Embeth's defection, he had been placed in charge of their defenses.
Varooq recognized Meta's expression of confusion. “I know it is not standard protocol for Council members to participate in combat, but we wanted to personally make sure Vaire is recovered,” he explained.
“The soldiers' morale would improve significantly if we were to lead the invasion,” Hark-Kalech added.
Meta nodded. He had been so worried lately about the defection of Consortium worlds that he had lost touch with the fleet. He turned to the window and folded his hands behind his back. “I agree.”
Although they had been loyal Council members for as long as he could remember he refused to reveal his failing abilities.
No one must discover the truth
. Meta was determined to get to the root cause of the problem, but that was a battle for another day. There was a more important fight coming.
Varooq stepped forward. “I will lead four battle cruisers over the northern hemisphere of the planet.”
“That part of the planet is comprised mostly of water,” Hark-Kalech explained. “The Ascended forces are gathered along the southern hemisphere. They stray no further than the Shreen villages beside the beaches.”
Meta turned. “What about the Shreen? They may be outnumbered but they are fierce warriors. Surely they could push back against the Ascended incursion?”
Varooq and Hark-Kalech exchanged glances. They were brief but Meta recognized the doubt in their eyes. If his Council members doubted his ability then doubt of his leadership will follow. He clenched his fists in agitation.
Hark-Kalech tugged at his left eyebrow which was a sign of apprehension. Meta recognized it. “We thought you were aware of the situation on Vaire. We apologize for not briefing you properly,” he said slowly.
Whenever Hark-Kalech was restless like that something troubled him. Occasionally it had been Council matters, other times it had been matters of a personal nature. Was it the impeding battle that troubled him, or the fact that he recognized his leader had lost something of utmost importance? “What is wrong?” Meta asked.
It was Varooq who answered. “Calypso has somehow swayed the Shreen to join his cause.”
That was a two-sided coin of bad news, Meta lamented. First, the Ascended have added a fierce fighting force to their growing numbers. Second, Meta should have seen this. The lack of clarity on the matter only further fortified his fears. He turned back to the window in silence.
Meta could see their reflection in the window. They were staring at each other uneasily. Why not? It was as clear as the Emerald Sea. Their leader had lost the ability which had guided the High Princes of the Consortium for centuries.
“This is ill news,” Hark-Kalech said.
Varooq moved beside Meta and sighed. “I agree.” His big arm fell across Meta's shoulders. “Do not worry, we will overcome this.”
Varooq's arm was like a tree trunk bearing down across his shoulders. Meta found it difficult to simply nod his agreement. “It will be dealt with,” Meta agreed. “How quickly can we mobilize against Vaire?”
Hark-Kalech moved behind him. Suddenly Varooq's arm closed around his head, shoving his face into the bigger man's fur coat of a chest. His air supply was cut off by the mass of Varooq's bicep. He wanted to cry out, but he couldn't breathe.
“This has been coming for a long time,
High Prince
,” Hark-Kalech whispered in his ear. “Do not weep for the Consortium. Calypso will rebuild it and return it to its former glory.”
Hark-Kalech's daggerfish blade plunged into Meta's back. Varooq let go and the blade twisted. A sound like paper tearing came from inside his chest. The pain of his heart rending subsided, soon giving way to the emotional pain of betrayal. “Calypso!” Meta gasped. Dark blue slivers of blood fell from his lips.
Hark-Kalech tore the blade out and Meta fell to the ground. Blood bubbled from his lips when he rolled onto his back. Through dying eyes he studied his betrayers. Varooq looked on sadly but Hark-Kalech had a different look. It was the cold, emotionless look of an assassin. The treachery was complete. Calypso struck the first blow. Hark-Kalech struck the last.
“You will never take control of the Consortium,” Meta gasped. “The Consortium will die with me.”
Hark-Kalech snickered. “We are counting on it.”
Preview Chapter of Book 3 in The Cartographer series
The boarding bridge attached to the ship. Once it locked into place the dock doors of the Astral Spirit lowered slowly. The interior lights from the ship illuminated a lone figure in the doorway. Hark-Kalech stood tall, ready to greet his visitor. It had been a long time since Calypso stepped foot aboard the Consortium flag ship and he smiled when he glanced at his former colleague of the Council of Five.
“Welcome aboard,” Hark-Kalech beamed. “It's been a long time.”
Calypso reached out and shook his hand. “It has indeed, my old friend. I assume by your warm reception that the task is done?”
“It is,” Hark-Kalech let go of his hand. His smile faded when he saw the look of unease on Calypso's face. “Is something wrong?”
Calypso ran a hand through his flowing red hair and frowned when it came back moist with cold sweat. “It's the Insurgents. It seems they are not as disorganized as I originally had suspected. Our young Nathan seems to have a few tricks up his sleeve.”
Hark-Kalech narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
Calypso started to respond but he heard a noise coming from the docking bridge. It was as if someone dropped a coin on a metal surface. He looked back and saw nothing except the empty corridor of the bridge. The dimly lit hall was only visible on each end because of light coming from the open doors of their two ships.
“Calypso?” Hark-Kalech was looking at him with concern.
“Sorry, my nerves must be fried,” he replied. “What I meant was that Nathan seems to have found new allies. The forces of Xajax have joined the scattered remains of Embeth's Defense Fleet. I assume after Corvus' failure on Vaire that the Hydrophants will not be far behind.”
Hark-Kalech shrugged. “Once we merge the Consortium forces with the Ascended, Nathan can rally an entire galaxy to his cause and it will not make a difference.”
“Perhaps you're right, but I prefer to take no chances,” Calypso replied. He started down the hall but stopped when the hairs on his neck stood at attention. He suddenly felt colder for no reason at all. The temperature was a bit cool but nothing like the iciness that wrapped around him like a shroud. An overwhelming feeling of being watched overtook him, despite the fact they were alone in the hallway. He found his gaze drifting toward the bridge but the gloomy corridor remained empty. He shrugged it off as simple nerves.
“Shall we adjourn to the meeting room to discuss our next move?” Calypso asked.
Hark-Kalech swept his hand in an arc, motioning for Calypso to follow him. They entered an elevator that stood at the end of the hall. When Calypso turned around to wait for the elevator doors to close, he saw the docking bridge in the distance. A shadow passed before the open doorway and he froze. Squinting, he struggled to make out a shape in the gloom but the only thing he observed was the light wafting in from his ship. After several seconds passed he chalked it up to the light playing tricks on him.
When the elevator doors closed the shadowy figure dropped from the roof of the corridor. He landed softly, almost cat-like. His wings folded tightly against his back attracting the surrounding shadow to him like a magnet while he surveyed his surroundings. He crept toward the hallway while the shadows followed him as if they were his children. As he moved through the empty halls he marveled at his luck. No crowds made it easier for him to work. His primary objective was discretion. His mission was simple;
get in and get out unseen
. Calypso's skittish behavior amused him. The shadowy figure had been well briefed on Calypso's ability to sway his enemies with hypnotic charm and he took great joy in unnerving him.
He reached behind him and removed an eight-inch jagged steel blade out of the sheath. Its hilt had been carved into the shape of a scorpion, a gift from the desert nomads of Verillion 5. The blade was black, like the shadows. The little bit of light which did manage to penetrate the gloom reflected the deadliness of the ebony blade. It was coated with the essence of Moonweed, the most poisonous plant growing in the badlands of Epsilon Prime. His blade had one purpose and one purpose only—
assassination
. To him, murder was an art form and the only thing he was good at.
Moro smiled and drifted toward the elevator.
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Reborn
. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend and much appreciated.
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