Heir of Shandara (Book 4) (17 page)

BOOK: Heir of Shandara (Book 4)
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“We should return to the palace and put the guards on alert,” Isaac said.

Sarah shook her head. “No. If we did that, then we would alert Rordan that we know something. When I used the mirror shard, his amulet started glowing, and they noticed. I’ll need to be more careful.”

Isaac nodded. “Ah, I see. Perhaps a smaller number of us could keep our eyes open. Did you hear anything else useful?”

Sarah repeated what she had heard, but it didn’t make any more sense to Isaac than it did to her.

“Let’s spring the trap,” Sarah said.

Isaac’s eyebrows wrinkled in surprise before he narrowed his gaze. “You’re worse than Aaron with throwing yourself into danger. I almost hate to ask, but what do you have in mind?”

Sarah’s lips lifted in a half smile, and with a hungry glint to her eyes, she said, “My brother wants to take the throne. Fine, let him try. We’ll let it be known that the High Queen will be in court tomorrow. He can spring whatever trap he has in mind. We’ll have the court filled with soldiers. Some will be in uniform with others appearing as nobility.”

“A bold plan, my Lady. There is just one thing that we’re not taking into account,” Isaac said.

“What’s that?”

“Rordan is able to stop a person’s beating heart. The murders seem to occur without the victim knowing what is happening,” Isaac said.

“It won’t be like that with me. When my brother comes after me, he will want to look me in the eyes. My instincts tell me that Rordan needs to be within a certain distance to kill a person, otherwise I would already be dead.”

Isaac nodded. “I would agree with that assumption.”

“Good. If Rordan comes within sight of me, he won’t get a chance to use his powers,” Sarah said.

She and Isaac left the ruins of Mactar’s castle. The others rejoined them, and together they returned to Khamearra.
 

C
HAPTER
15

SOMEONE TO LEAD

Bayen and the others arrived outside the walls of Rexel, the capital city of the Waylands. Before Bayen’s time, the Waylands central location had been the mutual meeting place for the nations of Safanar. During Bayen’s lifetime, it had become a land ravaged by constant war, the battle line being steadily pushed back to the doorsteps of Shandara. He didn’t remember much more after that because that was when he went into cryostasis. His father had told him they were weeks away from a cure. Cryostasis was supposed to be a precautionary measure. He had told his father he would go into cryostasis while the cure was being finalized. Instead, he had woken up almost twenty years later to a world a heartbeat away from being consumed by the Ryakul virus. He hated his father for stealing that time away from him. How could he have done that to him? The fury that had been so prevalent before came and went in waves. Seeing a younger version of his father almost made him more human. Bayen pinched his lips together in frustration. He needed to focus. His father had died so that he could travel back in time to save their world. That’s what he thought happened, but sometimes he felt his father’s presence.

They approached the northern city walls. FNA soldiers along with Rexellian regulars rushed about, making preparations. He had to close his slack-jawed mouth more than once. The city was so clean, and the palace was intact. It was everything he had been told it would be. Even at this distance, just outside the city, the palace gleamed like a beacon of hope. Rexellian pride showed upon the well-kept buildings and streets. The people that traversed them moved with purpose, but he could sense the fear as well.
Not enough fear,
Bayen thought. These people don’t know what’s coming for them.
 

They had spent the remainder of yesterday and part of today convincing townsfolk of the impending danger. Some left their homes, choosing to take refuge in the city. Others believed they could hide while the Zekara passed them by. Those were the ones that were already dead. They just didn’t know it yet. Bayen glared at Aaron.
You should have listened to me. Now we will only face those people in battle,
Bayen thought bitterly.

The bracer upon his wrist vibrated lightly.

“What is it, Sam?” Bayen asked quietly.

“Temporal matrix alignment is at 70 percent.”

Bayen barely suppressed the shudder that went through him. He had been sent back here to prevent the plague from occurring. That was his primary goal, and it was ultimately the one he was failing to accomplish. He wasn’t a scientist. He didn’t know all that was involved with the portal that brought him back in time, but he knew he was still connected to the future. He felt the pull of the future as his time in the past was running out. It was like his mind was trying to be in two places at once. Halcylon was crucial to Safanar’s survival. Yet it was that same Hythariam who wanted to wipe humanity off the face of Safanar. Bayen clenched his teeth. His task sickened him. How could keeping Halcylon alive be Safanar’s only hope? The AI was adamant that this was their only option.
 

Bayen knew he could get past the Zekaran defenses and take out Halcylon. The temptation of doing so was almost overwhelming at times. He suspected he wasn’t the only one thinking the same thing. He took some time to review the information stored in the AI’s database. At some point, the Ryakul virus would try to spread itself to subvert all life on the planet. The Zekara believed they would be safe. They would be wrong. Bayen spent a fair amount of time pursuing what-ifs and going back over what he had learned, hoping to gain insight into something all the ghosts of futures past had missed, but he couldn’t make any connections.

Bayen glanced at the people he traveled with. A much younger version of his father and uncle. They were men he idolized as a child. Most of the people he’d recently met were already dead, and the very thought chilled him. At the rate the temporal matrix was falling out of alignment, he had about a week before he was snatched back to the future and his own demise. Had his presence here already changed things, and was that why he had less time than he had originally thought? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t feel like anything he had done so far had had much of a chance to prevent what was to come. Perhaps if they could stop the Zekara here then the divergence of the Ryakul virus would never happen. This begged the question of how could they defeat the Zekara and not kill Halcylon.
 

He had planned to stick close to Aaron. Earlier that day, he had sensed Tanneth watching him and confirmed that at some point a passive scan of his AI band hidden in his bracer had occurred. Bayen didn’t let on that he knew Tanneth suspected him for the liberty of his comms device. He hoped that the information on how to disable the Zekaran infiltrator would help prevent the spread of the Ryakul virus.
 

“Hello, Bayen,” Tanneth said, walking up to him.

Bayen nodded in greeting.

“A group of us are going to check the defenses along the perimeter and in the city. I thought maybe you’d like to join us since you’re so familiar with Hythariam technology,” Tanneth said.

Yup, he suspects.
 

“I would be delighted to,” Bayen said, and followed Tanneth and the others.

***

Aaron watched the airships hovering in the sky. Even the ones augmented would be hard pressed to stand against what the Zekara brought with them. Still, some kind of air support was better than none at all. The airships would prove useful if the Ryakuls showed up, but against combat drones or flyer-class SPTs, there would hardly be any contest at all.

“Where to, my friend?” Verona asked.

“Your uncle wanted to see me when we got to the city,” Aaron said.

They rode in one of the smaller airships that could safely carry about ten people. They were the prototypes of the current airship model that gave the FNA a decisive advantage over the High King’s army.

Aaron’s gaze swept over the city as they drew steadily closer to the palace.

“I have Tanneth keeping an eye on Bayen,” Aaron said.

Verona nodded and pursed his lips as if deciding whether he should say anything. “Have you spoken to Sarah?” Verona asked.

“Not since yesterday,” Aaron answered. When Verona didn’t say anything further, Aaron turned to face his friend. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

Aaron could tell that whatever was on Verona’s mind clearly wasn’t nothing. “Is there something I should know?”

Verona let out a nervous chuckle and shook his head. “Given what we’re about to face, I’d say there is a lot we all could benefit from knowing.”

The rest of the trip to the palace was made in silence, each man quiet in his own thoughts. The small airship docked at one of the lower spires, and Verona led Aaron through the palace. The lower levels of the palace were a rush of activity. Many of the servants were packing things up and carrying off valuables. Messengers were speeding through the hallways.
 

“This doesn’t bode well,” Verona said.

“Perhaps it’s just a precaution.”

Verona shook his head, frowning. “When valuables and such are being packed away, then my uncle is already considering that the city could fall in the coming days ahead.”

Aaron didn’t know what to say. It was a hard thing knowing that one’s home could be lost. He’d had no warning when his own home had been burned to the ground. The same night his parents died. Their loss was always with him, and there were still times he wished he could talk to them.

Verona’s eyebrows drew up, and his normal worry-free expression returned. “Perhaps you’re right, and it’s just a precaution. Besides, we’re better prepared than we were for the High King. At least we know there is an army heading here and not about to appear out of thin air.”

Aaron put on a brave face for his friend, but deep down he knew there was no comparison between the threat of the High King and the Zekara. They were about to face their gravest threat, and Aaron truly didn’t know how this was going to end. This fight was meant to be fought at Shandara. Rexel just wasn’t equipped to repel an advanced Hythariam army like the Zekara. They would fight—of that he had no doubt, but he couldn’t help thinking that so many of them were going to die. A flash of the darkened limbs and the fanatical attacks of the Forsaken appeared in his mind. Perhaps death wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.

They arrived at Prince Cyrus’s office. The main hall had become more of a planning area than a place for the prince to hold court. The guards posted outside the office opened the door, and they entered. Aaron remembered the first time he had been brought here. Colind had advised him to seek out Prince Cyrus to help him get to Shandara. The prince had been reluctant to believe who Aaron really was. It was his grandfather’s letter that provided enough evidence for the prince to help him.
 

The office was well lit with natural light coming through the tall windows off to the side. In the middle of the room sat the prince behind his ornately carved desk. The gray-haired prince nodded in greeting and dismissed the others from the room.

“Uncle, we’ve come as you’ve asked,” Verona said.

Cyrus’s lips lifted in a smile that crossed between grudging respect and the apparent fondness that the prince clearly felt for his nephew.

“I believe that I asked to see Aaron here,” Cyrus said, leveling his gaze at Verona for a moment. “You can stay. In fact, I’m glad you’re here, as what I’m going to say affects you as well.”

The prince invited them to sit on the wooden high-backed chairs in front of his desk. Aaron and Verona waited for the prince to sit down first before they sat in their seats.

Prince Cyrus regarded the pair for a few seconds. “It’s things like that that make me feel as old as I must look to you.”

“I was always taught that showing respect is never a bad thing,” Aaron said.

There was a small knock on the door, and Gavril entered. The Hythariam wore his dark armor with lines of cyan running along the edges. He was formerly of the Hythariam military and had helped Aaron on his quest to save Sarah from the Drake.

“Have you told them yet?” Gavril asked.

“They’ve only just arrived,” Cyrus said.

Gavril nodded, and his green eyes drew down for a moment.

“Uncle, what’s going on? As we made our way here, we saw things being packed up and taken away,” Verona said.

Aaron didn’t say anything but waited for the prince to say what he had to say.

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