Courage (34 page)

“Yes, sir.” Kennin flipped through the pages, then brought up several detailed pencil drawings of humanoid people. A few of them looked completely human, but the rest were clearly not from Kismet due to the varying shapes of their hands, heads, faces, and other features. “The interviewed Nomas explained what they’d done: they’d used their power to stop the Neo-Josos. They called themselves ‘Aigis’ but it was the Kismites who ended up calling them Nomas, which is an old word for ‘wanderer.’ The Nomas wander from world to world for one reason or another. Through exploratory world-hopping they discovered Kismet and have kept an eye on our world over the millennia. They haven’t alleviated our godless state because we’re actually safer as we are for the moment, but they promised to take care of that one day.

“They also addressed our pollution problem. There’s only so much they can do since it spans the entire globe, so it’s beyond their power and any form of extended reality they know how to use. Kismet’s technology has to be the main muscle in combating it.

“The Nomas also explained what they know of how their powers work, and how they discovered Kismet in the first place, and described and explained a bit of what goes on beyond the mortal realm. And that’s about everything in those interviews. Not the most poetic summary, but there you have it.”

The four of them sat in silence a moment, absorbing everything Kennin said. Donai almost felt like he wanted to cry. The thought of people out there looking out for him and the rest of Kismet was such a heartwarming relief. Kismet had spent tens of thousands of years trying to convince itself that gods were a manmade invention, that they were on their own in the universe, with the exception of much-welcomed peaceful involvement from other worlds. Donai broke the silence. “I can’t believe it. I thought this book was a work of fiction all this time.”

“We’re not on our own after all,” Skitt said in a subdued voice.

“Yeah,” Jenna said, sounding equally subdued and on the verge of tears. “There’s people out there who actually care about us and are trying to help.”

“We need to make copies of this book,” Arryk said. “We need to start sharing the truth with the world. Kismet needs a boost to its morale, along with a big dose of hope.”

“No one’s going to believe it,” Donai said. “Well, maybe some, but not everyone. Why would they?”

Arryk stood and straightened out his pajama shirt. “I’d be surprised if everyone did, but that’s not the goal. I just want to be the pebble that starts the ripples. Let’s start with Aerigo and Rox. We can introduce them to the whole hospital, maybe get a few news channels over here.”

Jenna said, “Arryk, what about Aerigo’s need for secrecy to protect us?”

He put his fists on his slender hips. “Hun, I appreciate his concern, but I don’t think that’s his call. The other Aigis didn’t try to keep a low profile, and they hinted at dangerous things they were involved in.”

“Good point.”

Kennin said, “He is correct. The Aigis actually welcomed making their existence known for the sake of Kismet’s morale. However, they didn’t go out of their way to pose for cameras and talk before large audiences. They did what they came to do, recovered from their injuries, and took off. That’s all.”

Donai looked at the drawings, the images of hopes, and couldn’t help but feel heartened.

“See?” Arryk said. “We can still run the idea by Aerigo, but this is our world--well, technically yours--and we get the final say. Besides, if Aigis have saved Kismet before, then they can save it again. I have faith in them.”

Chapter 23

Roger Alcadere stood at attention behind the recently promoted Fleet Admiral Reginald Whitman. They were housed inside a protective bubble of magic with over a hundred other aliens. The leader of each army was present. Most had come alone. A few stood with a subordinate or two listening on, like Roger was, who had been ordered to do just that. He had no problem with that; he was just struggling hard not to stare in open awe at all the aliens. His brain accepted what he saw just fine. Baku had said that’s why he’d picked him and the other soldiers. It was hard not to stare, though, because of how amazing this all was. It was like walking onto the set of a fantasy or sci-fi type movie without all the green screens, and this time the movie magic was very real.

Roger had been ordered to tag along because he was related to the President, and the President’s family needed extra protection. To his surprise, he was also the youngest American soldier present, which he could see why it weighed heavily on Whitman’s conscience. Roger didn’t appreciate the subtle babying, but he sure wasn’t gonna complain about being so close to so many aliens. Still, he couldn’t help but feel he didn’t deserve more protection than anyone. He was here to serve his country (and the whole world), just like everyone else from Earth.

The magic bubble would keep enemy eyes and ears out of their conversation, according to the red-haired people who’d magicked it into existence. They were tallish, lean people, and stood on the balls of their elongated feet. They wore light armor under what looked like dragon scales of varying sizes. Roger thought would be so cool if it those really were dragon scales.

A gorgeous woman, wearing hardly more than a bikini and half a skirt covering one leg, used more magic to keep prying minds out of their conversation. She had long, flowing golden hair, and wings that looked like they belonged on a fairy. The wings were huge, even folded, looking big enough to keep a Cessna aloft. The protective bubble encasing everyone shimmered like a soap bubble with light shining on it.

A huge creature that Roger assumed had to be a manticore began leading the strategy session. He stood twice as tall as just about most aliens here, including him, but the manticore was far enough away so Roger didn’t have to crane his neck to look his lion-ish face in the eye. The manticore looked like an adult standing in the middle of a room full of children. His voice was deep and gravelly, and sounded exactly the way he’d expected, if a lion could talk.

“My name is Brevelan. I wish to lead you all as one unified army in this time of war. Are there any objections or challenges to my leadership?” He scanned all the faces looking at him. Heads turned and hushed chatter filled the bubble.

Whitman fidgeted next to Roger. He wore a pained expression. To Roger he quietly said, “I would love to lead everyone here.” They looked at each other. “But son, when you know you’re in way over your head, have the courage to set aside your pride, or else you’re gonna embarrass yourself big time.”

“Sir?”

“I’d love to take his place, but I ain’t prepared to lead a bunch of aliens. I’m surprised Brevelan even knows English. Gotta respect a leader who goes out of his way to learn multiple languages, and gotta respect something that much bigger than you.”

“Yes, sir.” Roger looked at the manticore as it passively watched the other leaders converse. How did a creature with a muzzle and mouth like that produce the English language? Well, birds could, so maybe it wasn’t much of a stretch, but still: why English? Earth had a ton of languages, so what were the odds that some creature from a faraway galaxy spoke the same exact language? Roger looked around the bubble at the other aliens, then realized he was hearing more people using English. The mouths of the aliens nearest to him drew his attention like those of dubbed films when the words heard didn’t match the way the mouths moved on screen. Roger leaned closer to the redheads with elongated feet and spoke in a hushed voice. “Sorry to bother you, but are you speaking English?”

The two aliens looked at him in confusion, looked at each other, then back at him. One said, “No, we’re speakin’ Scondish. Why?”

The speaker’s mouth once again formed words that didn’t mesh what Roger heard. “Do you even know English?”

Both redheads shook their heads and told him “No” in English. They turned back to each other to continue their private conversation, but then they looked at Roger again as realization dawned on them. The one on the left said, “Wait, you don’t know Scondish, do ya?”

“Not a chance. Look at everyone’s mouths and listen to them speak. Something strange is going on.”

Whitman said, “What you goin’ on about, son?”

“Just watch and listen.” Roger, Whitman, and the redheads did just that.

After a moment, one of the redheads said, “The gods musta leant us their Gift of Tongues. Either that, or some powerful bit of extended reality is at work here.”

“What’s extended reality?” both Roger and Whitman asked in unison.

“Magic,” the other redhead said. The two aliens resumed their private conversation.

Roger said to Whitman, “Sir, do you want to reconsider passing on leading everyone here? It seems like everyone will be able to understand you.”

Whitman considered his words. “My gut says my first decision is the right one. I’m here for one last bit of glory, and then that’s it.”

After a couple of minutes of chatter, no one challenged Brevelan’s wish to lead.

“Very well,” Brevelan said. “All of you are my second in command, and all of you will have one of my pack accompanying you for the duration of the war. We possess telepathy. This way, every last army will be able to communicate rapidly with one another. This war isn’t being waged for mortal gains.” Hushed chatter broke out again, but ceased once the manticore spoke again. “Who else is aware of this?”

Maybe a dozen hands and appendages of varying shapes and sizes rose into the air. Roger’s and Whitman’s stayed down. Roger sort of understood what Brevelan was saying. In war, there wasn’t any true good guy or bad guy. The soldiers from each side were doing as their superior ordered: kill the opposition. Well, there was so much more to it than that. There were also better ways than war to solve disputes, but humanity back on Earth hadn’t quite reached full realization of this concept yet, so it was Roger’s job to carry out his patriotic duty, which had extended beyond Earth this time. If the opposition was just following orders in this impending war, then it came as no surprise, but what wasn’t black and white about it?

Brevelan looked around the bubble, then nodded to himself. “We are mere pawns in a selfish god’s schemes. We won’t be granted any land, riches, worlds, any powers, or anything you could possibly want.”

Roger’s thoughts darted to his dead sister. He hadn’t thought so far ahead as to what he could gain from participating in the war, provided that he survived it. All he cared about was having a country to call home, a family sleeping safe and soundly in that country, and a modest paycheck deposited into his account bimonthly so he could support himself. Baku had made it sound like Roger was participating in this war so he could preserve the life he had on Earth. That was good enough for him, and well worth fighting for.

“We do, however,” Brevelan continued passionately, “preserve our worlds, which are the most important things we could fight for. But the other side is doing the same, and that is the problem. Our side is comprised of one hundred different armies, and so is theirs. If we are eliminated, then our worlds will have a new god, the god that orchestrated this war.”

Alarmed voices and barely contained whispers rippled across the bubble, and several of those who’d raised their hands nodded soberly.

“We don’t want this god, Nexus, as a replacement any more than they do.”

Someone near the manticore said, “Do they know the consequences of wiping us out?”

“Not all gods are anticipating this war with hope and worry. Those who watch over the opposition are hungry for immortal spoils: our worlds to govern as they please. The gods will send their mortals to our homes and finish what’s about to be started here. This war is going to change the rules dominating the mortal realm.”

“However, there is one outside force that may help protect both sides from either outcome of this war,” Brevelan said. “There are two mortal beings called ‘Aigis.’ They possess the power to stand up to the will of a god.”

One of the redheads said in an excited whisper, “Aerigo and Roxie!”

“Aye,” the other said. “Do you think Roxie’s up to the task?”

“Aerigo’s trainin’ her. Of course she is. She’s got the best of the best. You heard how well she did in our race!”

“That I did.”

Their faces where blazing with barely contained excitement, and they fidgeted next to Roger.

Brevelan said, “The gods have faith in Aerigo and Roxie, as do I. Nexus fears them and has been doing everything in his power to eliminate them, yet his efforts have been in vain. Give the Aigis your faith in them as we fight for our lives and worlds.”

Roger almost shouted, “Yes, sir!” out of habit, but managed to contain himself after he pronounced the “y” in “yes.” If there were people who could save him and the rest from this mess, then he was all for it.

Chapter 24

Roxie woke to feeling sore all over, sore enough to not want to move yet, like she had the flu. She felt weak, too, like she was in dire need of food to perk her up. Her mouth was dry and tasted terrible. She swallowed a few times, but the taste lingered.

Something was on her face. She reached with her left hand and encountered what felt like an oxygen mask. She pried open her gritty eyes and confirmed her assumption, then rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Surprisingly, that made her feel markedly more awake, but the soreness and weakness still gripped her.

She was lying on a comfy gurney surrounded by white curtains, making her feel mildly claustrophobic. Modest lighting shone from the ceiling outside the curtains. Aerigo was asleep in a chair just a few feet away, head propped up on a fluffy pillow, arms resting on the armrests, and bare feet flat on the tiled floor. He was wearing a hospital smock, as was she. The curtains were billowing around him, and that’s when Roxie noticed a slight air current in the room. She heard the low hum of a fan, in addition to an EKG beeping away, but there weren’t any vents inside the curtains. She did feel some sort of energy in the air, though. It felt like static electricity. Maybe it was Aerigo. He
had
mentioned something about recharging the energy he’d unleashed in Phailon.

“Aerigo?” Her voice cracked and came out all hoarse. She coughed up some vomit-flavored phlegm, then swallowed it back down. Now she
really
needed some water. She called Aerigo’s name again and her voice came out louder.

Roxie gave him a few seconds, but he didn’t stir. His abdomen rose and fell with every breath, and that was it. Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t wake. Her breath had to be terrible. The last time she’d brushed was the morning she’d retired from being Aerigo’s pillow. How long had she been unconscious?

When Roxie tried to sit up, she realized her right arm wasn’t moving. In fact, she couldn’t feel anything from the shoulder down. A wave of panic gripped her and the beeping from the EKG sped up with her racing heart. Using just her left arm, she propped herself up against the elevated head of the gurney and tried shaking her dead arm. Maybe her sensation just needed a kick-start.

Nothing changed.

She tried slapping her arm from hand to shoulder, and squeezing every muscle group, and rolling every joint.

Still no improvement.

She stared down at her upturned hand and willed her fingers to move, twitch, curl--anything! But her hand just lay there, oblivious. She rolled her right shoulder and her arm followed the movement, but her arm was about as lively as a dead, broken branch dangling from the rest of the tree.

Roxie deposited her hand back in her lap and fought the urge to panic. Panic wouldn’t make her arm better. Besides, she was on a world that had saved her from dragon venom. They
had
to be able to do something about dead nerves.

As convincing as it sounded, she still feared the worst scenario.

Eyes warm with a fearful glow, Roxie closed them and forced herself to take several calming breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth, and concentrated on slowing her heartbeat. Every part of her but her right arm was in working order, so she could at least find some water and brush her teeth, provided that she could find her backpack.

Roxie detached the EKG clip from her left hand by gently pulling it off with her teeth, then hurried off the gurney, rounded to the machine and kept pressing random lights and buttons until the thing stopped wailing. She would’ve just unplugged it, but there was no plug in sight. Her ears pounded until the ringing subsided, and she felt a bit dizzy as well, like she’d stood up too fast.

She looked at Aerigo, expecting him to have woken up, but he went on sleeping deeply.

Roxie pushed aside the curtain and got a deep whiff of a bouquet of delicious-smelling food. She spied a metal cart that looked like something that belonged on a buffet table. The cart sat before a line of cabinets and counter space with three tall bottles of water on the counter. She went straight for one and bit down on the cap as she twisted the rest of the bottle free, then downed the whole thing as fast as she could. It had a faint taste of bitter mineral water, but she didn’t care. It quenched her thirst and helped alleviate some of the bad taste in her mouth. She set aside the empty bottle on the counter.

Lifting one of the two the stainless steel lids caused steam to billow out. Once it cleared, Roxie’s mouth watered at the banquet of meats, veggies, and what looked like a few different types of pasta all laid out in divided sections. Roxie set the first lid down and lifted the other, revealing an eight-inch white cake with white frosting, and the sweet aroma of all that sugar filled her lungs. She set the lid on the counter next to her empty bottle, carted over the food to the foot of her gurney, and found two sets of silverware on the tier below. Roxie hopped up onto her gurney, sat Indian-style and helped herself to a breakfast of champions.

“Now what kind of breakfast food is that?” a familiar deep voice said lightly.

Roxie stopped with her bite of cake hovering halfway in her mouth. She’d forgotten all about Aerigo. She lowered her fork, then gave Aerigo a guilty smile and shrugged. He smiled back, a real, genuine smile that she’d never seen him wear before, one that caused her to lock eyes with him. He got up and walked over to her. He somehow looked taller and stronger, and so... attractive, even in the hospital smock and the beginnings of a beard coating his face. She gazed into his deep blue eyes as his weight settled right next to her on the gurney. Their sudden closeness made her whole body flutter. She dropped her fork on the cart. He slipped an arm around her waist. Roxie leaned into him and pressed her cheek to his chest as she wrapped her sole functioning arm around him, and closed her eyes. The contact sent an electric thrill up and down her entire body. They’d hugged before, but it had never felt like this, like being in physical contact with him was the only thing that mattered in the universe. He wrapped his other arm around her, firmly hugging her and making her feel totally safe.

Aerigo planted a kiss on the top of her head, then rested his chin there.

The kiss made Roxie’s eyes pop wide open. He’d never done that before. Even with all they’d just been through, what had brought this on? She was glad for it, though--so glad that, if Aerigo took her face in his hand, she wouldn’t stop him from kissing her on the lips. In fact, she hoped he would.

Aerigo’s chest vibrated as he said, “What’s wrong with your arm? Can you move it?”

They were two honest questions, but they killed the moment. Roxie hugged Aerigo tighter with her good arm. “No. I can’t even feel it.” Her voice came out in a tight whisper. Panic rose again and tears stung her eyes. Visions of Aerigo leaving her behind while he took on Nexus alone attacked her conscious thoughts. As safe as that would keep her, that scenario was the last thing she wanted.

Roxie watched out of the corner of her eye as Aerigo ran his fingers along her dead arm. The touch should’ve caused goosebumps and more electric shivers, but she felt nothing. Aerigo might as well have been caressing the cart. He squeezed both her upper and lower arm, and closely inspected her hand, which looked perfectly normal, then set her arm back down.

“Everything feels fine,” he said. “The dragon venom must have destroyed your nerves, which makes sense. Where do you lose feeling?”

“My shoulder. Like everything past the collar bone.”

Aerigo pressed a thumb to the tip of Roxie’s collar bone. “Do you feel that?”

“Yes.”

He pressed just past it. “Here?”

“Sort of.” It felt like he was barely touching her, yet his thumb pressed a crater in her shoulder.

He moved one more thumb-width down. “And here?”

“Nothing. It’s like my arm’s been shot full of Novocain and some sort of paralytic stuff.”

Aerigo held his chin in his free hand, thinking.

Roxie sat up and Aerigo’s gaze lost the quality that made her heart flutter. His gaze was full of concern. Roxie’s eyes stung with fresh tears. The thought of getting left behind surged to the forefront of her thoughts. When she felt her eyes begin to glow, she buried her face in his chest. “Please don’t leave me behind!”

Aerigo wrapped both arms back around her and rested his chin on her head again. “I’ve done a terrible job of keeping you safe. I don’t want you to die because of me.”

So she’d guessed his thoughts right--well, one of them. It was relieving to know it wasn’t because of her, but because of him. But... he had it all wrong. “I’m alive
because
of you.” Hot tears streamed down her face, but no sobs wracked her body. She just cried without all the hiccupping breathing. She hugged Aerigo tight.

“You’ve almost died several times because of me.”

“That’s not true.” The warmth of the glow faded. Roxie let go and sat up, tears still forming and falling. “Aerigo, that’s not true at all. Baku sent you to protect me. Someone would’ve come for me while I had no magical capabilities, and that would’ve been the end of it. Daio made that perfectly clear on the cruise ship. It just didn’t sink in at the time. I am alive because of you.” Tears overflowed one drop at a time.

Aerigo pulled her into a tight hug and kissed the top of her head again. It was such a sweet, innocent kiss, yet it felt like such a profound gesture, as if they’d broken through a relationship barrier and were finally free to be a little closer to each other. “I still feel guilty,” he whispered, “but you’re right.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to learn to let go of that.”

Aerigo let out one soft laugh of consent.

Roxie took a moment to enjoy just hugging him now that all that was out of the way. It felt like one tiny barrier was still between them, but that was it. They just needed some time, and most importantly Nexus’ war not taking priority in their lives. “Is there anything this hospital can do for my dead nerves? I don’t want to be left behind. I still want to help you.”

He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “There is.”

“Well, I’m obviously saying yes to it, however I’m sensing a ‘but’ behind it.”

Aerigo sat up and held her by the shoulders and looked right into her eyes. “I may not need your help anymore.”

Roxie blinked. That was the last thing she’d guessed he’d say. “What do you mean?”

“You remember the conversation we had back on the cruise ship after Daio attacked us?”

Roxie thought a moment. “Vaguely. Just the stuff about me being trained to protect people, and that you believe I have to courage to do what I need to do.”

“That you do,” Aerigo agreed with a hint of awe in his deep voice. “And do you remember the power I unleashed in Phailon to save the obelisk from falling over?”

Her eyes widened at the memory of the display of such sheer power. The wind, the heat, the crackle and sizzle as his power grabbed the obelisk, and the way he’d effortless tossed two huge dragons out of sight. “How could I forget? That was insane!”

“That was only
half
of our unique power.”

Roxie’s mind drew a blank. She didn’t know what to make of that statement. If any one Aigis contained more power than that, surely it’d make him or her explode. Maybe that’s why she’d been getting static shocks every time she’d tried to wake Aerigo with a gentle shake. It made sense. “Are you saying you purposely drew out only half?”

“No. There are two separate halves of our power, called Mana and Frava. Mana, which you saw, is hidden well, but it takes no more than a strong emotional jolt of sorts to draw it out. Losing my wife hadn’t been enough, but my reaction to finding out who’d killed her unlocked it.”

“Sounds fun,” Roxie said dryly.

“I can teach you how without the horrible emotional jolt, but there’s no point in doing such a thing without teaching you how to release Frava, which I just recently learned.”

“What did I miss while I was out?”

“Believe it or not, Daio’s soul visited me while I was asleep recharging. The second half of our power can be unlocked by those who already know how to find it, which means we can’t stumble upon the power.”

“That makes no sense. How does that even work?”

“Design,” Aerigo said. “Aigis were created by a god named Olod. Just like the design of an eye or skeletal structure, he designed the way our power works. Daio taught me how to draw out the second half.”

Roxie blinked. “Why would he help? He tried to kill me.”

Aerigo looked at her like he was weighing information he wasn’t sure he wanted to reveal. “Like I said before, he wasn’t the person he used to be when you met him. His death freed him to be the person he was long ago.”

“Well that’s good to hear, in a sense. I wonder if I’d like him now.”

He popped a half smile.

“So now what? You’ve got both halves, so now what do we do? Or just you.” She got a sinking feeling that she’d get dropped off somewhere relatively safe, maybe Earth, while Aerigo ran off to fight Nexus on his own. After all this training, learning, and maybe maturing, she was getting benched.