The Silver Sphere (6 page)

Riley glided closer to their guide. "Mr. Presage, even though
we know a bit about your planet, what could we possibly do to help?" At school,
she had the best grades. Math never stumped her, but this equation begged a different
answer. It seemed like the old man was keeping a secret from them.

"We need the six active Kin to utilize their psychic links
with their alter egos here on Azimuth, the members of the Aulic Assembly. They disappeared
last week, all on the same day. Their rescue is of the utmost importance—besides
the concern for their lives, of course—because the Aulic Assembly is made up of
the only individuals able to operate the armillary sphere, or the 'Silver Sphere,'
as it is called. Before I continue, have any of you heard of an armillary sphere
before?"

They shook their heads, and Stuart murmured something. Riley
glanced at Emily, but the quiet girl had her focus locked on the horn of her saddle.

"Well, an armillary sphere is an old astronomical model
with solid rings. All circles of one single sphere, in this case Azimuth, are used
to display relationships among the principal celestial circles. This particular
sphere is special. The Silver Sphere gives the exact celestial coordinates of Biskara.
It was created a long time ago when Biskara transformed from fable to reality. This
ability to monitor Biskara kept him at bay, as his plans could be better followed
and foiled. Without constraints, he can devise and carry out his evil plots—Azimuth,
and by proxy, Earth, would be no more."

"Is it possible to monitor one of his sons through the Sphere
and find out if Malefic is one?" Max asked.

Riley eased her mare around a sapling sprouting in the middle
of the path. The horse whickered and tossed its massive head. She knew Malefic embodied
evil—she just wasn't sure if he was really the son of this Biskara creature.

"The Sphere is a celestial tool," Presage said, "which
cannot detect mortals. Biskara is able to direct the war through his offspring's
corporeal existences and, when unimpeded, keep them one step ahead of their opponents.
This is the Sphere's vital importance. Hence, the disappearance of the Assembly
and Malefic's increasing power leads us to believe he's not a typical terrorizing
dictator. Otherwise, we could easily overrun him with our armies."

Each of the other Kin looked confused as Riley shuffled her feet,
her forehead pinched. Though they spoke the same language, she did not understand
everything Presage tried to tell them. It sounded like a lot of fantasy to her.

Still, she wanted to get home. "What happens if we make
contact with our links?"

Presage turned to her. "Once we locate your links and are
able to operate the Sphere, we can bring the war to Biskara and then handle Malefic."

"We are g-going to fight Biskara?" Emily stammered.
Her eyes widened with fright, and she clutched the reins of her palfrey to her chest.

"No. The combat with Biskara is on a celestial battlefield.
The truth seekers, some from Earth even, will pursue him. The truth seekers are
defenders of this celestial universe. We'll encounter our own problems on the corporeal
plane, though, I can assure you."

"Truth seekers?" Emily's voice quivered.

"Another time, my dear. Our war is with Malefic and the
Nightlanders, here on Azimuth. We had Biskara's coordinates until the Assembly vanished,
but we haven't been able to defeat him."

Presage coughed, pulled out his canteen, and took a sip. "If
it is indeed true that Malefic is Biskara's son, he would be easier to oppose if
his father were preoccupied on the celestial battlefield. Now rest. You will find
comfort and familiarity with your new surroundings. Almost like you're home."

Max and Riley exchanged glances.

She hunched over and whispered, "We aren't anywhere near
home."

Zach curled against a log and held his knees, his heart pulsing
in his chest as he stared straight ahead in a bewildered state. Dried tears stained
his cheeks.

Somehow, he had lost track of the people he overheard. Vilaborg
and Casselton were their names. They sought him, and that was a relief—at least
someone was looking for him.

He rose from his position and worked his way toward the direction
he'd last picked up voices. Leaves and twigs crunched underfoot, and odd noises
permeated from the dark woods, followed by an ominous silence. Zach froze and listened,
his head cocked, checking for more sounds. Convinced no one tracked him, he advanced
alongside the log.

A clamor from the bushes to his left made him pause.

In a puff of dirt and dust, an odd creature burst out of the
flora. The small, hairy figure stopped abruptly when he spotted Zach. The strange
man only came up to Zach's knees, but seemed brutish. He studied Zach with wide,
startled eyes.

"Okay, little fella, don't be scared," said Zach. The
last thing he wanted was to terrify someone who might help him get home.

A wild expression exploded on its painted countenance as he bared
his yellowed teeth beneath a wiry, whitewashed beard. "Kin! Alert—I have a
Kin!" the little man screamed.

The furry character brandished a large horn. He jerked the small
opening to his lips and blew so hard, his cheeks inflated like two balloons. The
blast echoed across the woods.

The blare jolted Zach's heart and he raced off down the side
of the log. He veered into the first opening he spied in the trees, and thundered
through shrubs and bushes, imagining a tribe of little hairy, painted men with spears
giving chase.

Without warning, the right side of the forest vanished. The ground
crumbled as the ledge gave way, sending him crashing down a steep hill and smacking
into a sturdy oak tree.

He lay dazed and motionless for a few moments, praying he hadn't
broken anything. A couple of parts throbbed, but nothing needed immediate attention,
as far as he could tell.

Several horns from above trumpeted, and he sprouted and scurried
through the thicket ahead. Leaves slapped his arms and face, and branches tried
to hold him back, but he kept running. He moved adroitly in his newfound physique,
aided by an adrenaline spike.

The lush and colorful woods slowed him to a jog as he marveled
at his surroundings. Royal blue and lime green bushes, chocolate-colored roses,
and trees full of violet apples sprawled everywhere. The farther he traveled, the
more dazzling the forest became.

The echo of horns ebbed, and Zach stopped to rest against a boulder.
He placed his hands on his knees while he panted, sweat dripping down his nose and
forehead. Muscles he'd never used before screamed from the exertion of running hard
for so long. At least he was alive.

He wiped his muddy hands on the brown leather pants that had
replaced his jeans, sinking against the tree to contemplate his next move.

Out of nowhere, entrancing sounds reverberated around him. The
volume increased, a chorus of several voices chanting a melody. His body grew rubbery
as sparkles encompassed the area and choruses of female voices sang an unfamiliar
language. The beauty of their song intoxicated him.

He had to find them.

The ground and tree vibrated and something flashed beside him.
He glimpsed a pair of glistening blue eyes, but no other features appeared—only
bright blue irises, the eyes of a comely woman. He rubbed his face and squinted,
the cerulean eyes dancing all around. Dozens of them darted in and out of the foliage
as the sweet, magnificent music continued. The symphony of choristers spoke to him.

The voices became more distinct when his eyes drifted shut. They
directed him where to go.
"Follow the Eridanus River downstream a few miles
to a man on a boat. The man's name is Throg. He'll bring you to safety. Leave now.
It will not be safe here much longer,"
the voices chimed in unison. Behind
the words, an unclear melody floated, one that made his entire being ache from its
elegance.

"Wh-who are you?" He yawned.

"The Fugues. Tell Throg the Fugues have sent you, and
he will take you to safety."

His body was steered—in fact
willed
—to travel the direction
the Fugues wanted him to go. Walking was surreal—rubbery and foggy—as if he couldn't
quite touch the ground. His legs moved of their own volition, wobbling beneath him.
Trees and bushes almost seemed to stand aside for him to pass, like a dream.

Then his mind cleared and everything became real again. The rumbling
of a river echoed, and the sudden return of reality bothered him. Before, the trees
had been strange colors. Now only a few plants—mainly flowers—were different from
those on Earth. Tree trunks were brown, leaves were green, and the forest floor
was covered in pine needles and mulch.

He reached the riverfront by stumbling down a hill, and knelt
down. He cupped his hands and doused his face with the freezing cold liquid. The
trip hadn't been terrifying, being led by those voices, though it had shaken him
a bit. Chilly water dripped along his neck and cheeks. Wet hair plastered to his
forehead.

He squinted out across the stream, turned, and looked back the
way he had come. "What in the blazes happened?"

A single memory burned bright: the Fugues had sent him to find
Throg.

He rose from his knees and followed the river downstream.

At Captain Jack's, Nick Casey's favorite restaurant, he ate a
bowl of French onion soup and a Captain Jack's burger next to his friend Cliff.
The next morning was going to be an early one for class at Densmore College, so
he said goodbye to Cliff after eating and walked out to the parking lot.

The sounds of shouting and yelling erupted, and a van screeched
by as the cries of a woman slashed the air.

Nick raced over to her. "What's wrong?"

"My baby!" she shrieked, tears welling in her eyes.
"They've got my baby!"

"Call the police," he yelled.

Without another word, Nick launched down the street. The van
stood only a few blocks ahead, forced to stop at a light behind ten other cars.
He picked up the pace, his shoes slapping against the hard concrete, his heart smashed
and his lungs already ragged.