The Last of the Ageless (33 page)

Through the artifact’s connection, Gryid’s thoughts barged in, ignoring Caetl’s attempted apology.
I was thinking… We can’t tip our hand.

Caetl’s heart beat faster as he tried to guess what Gryid meant. But he’d come over to his side; that’s what mattered.

If Mapleton is so badly destroyed, then I’ll wait for these boneheads to ride off. Together we can head west, as you said. I’ll go warn Kaia and try to get her help in removing these cursed devices. Can you get the amplifier away from the Wizard?

Maybe. But he usually sleeps with it nearby, with the force fields up.
Caetl frowned, considering the Wizard’s habits.

It’s the only way to keep him from torturing us. You’ve got to find a way.

Oh, believe me, I know. You have no idea what it’s like for me, being the connection between you while he does that. And with every mind added…

Then find a way.

First I have to bring him the others, the ones who wear your stolen artifacts. And then I’ll need a distraction of some kind.

Yes!
Gryid’s elation overwhelmed Caetl’s mind, bleeding into his.
And they’ll be the perfect distraction, won’t they? Once they get a taste of his torture, they’ll want the same thing.

You’re right…
For the first time in a long time, Caetl felt like things might be looking up.

The Wizard’s men slowed their horses to a walk. Though night, the sweat gathered in Caetl’s armpits.

“No need for you to go any farther,” Gryid said loudly, above the trod of their horses’ hooves. “I can find my way from here. Return to your Ageless master, Brute dogs.”

“Good.” Shujaa came alongside Gryid’s mount with his knife bared. He slashed between the Ageless man’s hands, freeing him. “Get along, then.”

Gryid rubbed his wrists, then aged into a young man with bushy red hair.

Remember the artifacts,
Caetl whispered.
Keep in touch.

Gryid slid down from the saddle and glared up at them all.

“Get!” Cantayban said, and Shujaa raised his club again.

Gryid slipped into the darkness of the borderlands. Caetl’s horse nosed a scrawny tree. The gelding snorted his dissatisfaction, which reminded Caetl he’d need some horses to bring Dalan, Nyr, and Ti’rros to the Wizard.

“I’m off to do the Wizard’s bidding,” Caetl said, looking over at Shujaa, “while you three get to return home to your nice, warm beds. So I’ll need Gryid’s horse, as well as one of yours.”

“Why should I give up my horse?” Shujaa sat back in the saddle, as though daring Caetl to try to take it from him.

He smirked, knowing it wouldn’t take much to cow the bully. “Would you rather I took
all
the horses?” Caetl didn’t meet their eyes as he wiped his brow.

It’s only fair,
Shujaa thought. Siman crossed his arms, already thinking about how he could convince Shujaa and Cantayban to share a horse.

Caetl planted words inside Shujaa’s head.
I could leave you with one horse instead of two. Then we’d see who gets to ride double… and who gets to walk.

“Alright, alright.” Shujaa dropped down and handed the reins up to Caetl, who added them to the reins of the horse Gryid had ridden and tied them both together on his saddle horn.

“You think the Joey won’t ride?” Siman asked.

Caetl was surprised he knew about the Joey. “That, or the Changeling man will become a horse himself and save me the trouble of trying to get another beast from you whiny brats.”

Caetl left the other three Changelings to fight over who had to ride double and rode away until he could no longer feel their combative thoughts.

He soon found that having the two other horses tied on either side of his own made it impossible to avoid having his legs smashed. Deciding to let the other mounts have their heads, he untied the reins from his saddle horn and looped them over their own saddles. They wouldn’t wander off from each other unless startled, and he would sense the minds of larger predators—or people—before the horses got wind of them.

When he sensed Gryid’s mind in the darkness, the man’s thoughts were morose. Even at night, he’d been able to assess the damage to Mapleton. He rightly guessed that few villagers had survived.

“This way,” Caetl called. The horses snorted nervously as he approached.

Caetl took one set of reins down from his saddle horn and passed them to the Ageless. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Gryid mounted and pulled the horse’s head around to the west. Caetl sensed his distrust, but telling the Ageless he’d had nothing to do with it wouldn’t convince him. So instead, he coughed and said, “I’m surprised to see an Ageless who cares so much about his people.”

“We’re not all monsters,” Gryid muttered.

“No, of course not. Best one out of three?” Caetl smiled. “So tell me more about Zen.”

“Why don’t you tell me what you know, first?” Gryid’s barriers snapped back up.

He sighed. “Nobody ever trusts a mystic.”

Gryid snorted. “Nobody ever trusts the henchman.”

Without being able to tap Gryid’s mind, Caetl wouldn’t have known what he meant. Gryid’s mind revealed other people in strange places, with slaves and servants of every type. “Did you know all those people?”

“What? Who?”

“Those people you were thinking of just now.”

“Oh!” He laughed. “I was just remembering some old movies.”

Caetl decided to leave that one alone. If he questioned this unfamiliar term, it would probably lead to more. “I only know what the Wizard—”

“Liang,” Gryid interrupted.

“What?”

“He’s not a wizard.” This time, his head filled with images of men with long sticks that glowed in the dark.

“I see. As I was saying, I only know what we were able to see through these K’inTesh artifacts. If you concentrate, you should be able to see from the other artifacts as well.” With that reminder, Caetl dropped his artifact inside his shirt.

“And what did you see?”

“A woman who called herself Soledad haranguing the others about Zen being their master.”

“He’s not the type. At least, not the Zen I knew.” In Gryid’s mind, a man stood behind a long table in a well-lit room. When the two men in the vision stepped outside, Caetl recognized the structure from Searchtown.

“The Wi—Liang had us attack Searchtown. I saw a building like what you’re imagining there. Is it the same place? Was Zen from Searchtown?”

The red-haired man smiled. “Searchtown was a research center. Under martial law, we scientists were shipped off there, along with any ‘specimens’ they managed to collect from fallen spacecraft. They wanted the aliens far from the oceans, to prevent their escape, which seemed smart at the time.”

“Wait. How would the aliens escape into the oceans?” Caetl shook his head.

“The aliens were aquatic, of course.” He waved a hand as though it were unimportant. An image of a monstrous creature filled Gryid’s mind. “We hoped that by blending human and K’inTesh DNA, perhaps the hybrids could communicate with any aliens that survived the fall to Earth’s oceans. Our first trials were monsters. But later hybrids were successful enough that they could procreate and survive.”

He reeled. “You’re saying...”

“That we created the hybrids everyone calls Joeys.” Caetl could sense Gryid's long-ago horror with the abominations they’d created. “Yes. By the time we’d succeeded, it was a decade or so after the Catastrophe. The world was devastated. Without our satellites, long-range communication was impossible, and that brings about its own host of problems.”

Gryid’s mind filled with images of war. The Ancients used weapons Caetl wouldn’t have dreamed of in his worst nightmares. Gryid continued, “We didn’t have any more government funding; there
wasn’t
a government. We’d never managed to communicate with the K’inTesh at all. So after that, we went on to more... ambitious projects.”

“But I thought the Prophet made you give up your technology.” At least, that’s what he’d gleaned from the Wizard’s head.

“Not before we turned Ageless.”

“You did this to yourselves?”

Gryid’s eyes lit with excitement. “Our most ambitious project. Our magnum opus. Yes, we changed ourselves from Purebreeds to Changelings. Of course, we didn’t understand what we’d done at first. We didn’t notice that we weren’t aging anymore. And even then, we didn’t understand the full implications. Not until the first of us died... and survived.”

“If you can’t be killed, then how does the Wi—Liang hope to defeat Zen? Soledad also seems to think she can do it.” He listened closely to Gryid’s thoughts, hoping to glean some advantage over the Wizard.

Gryid’s mind closed like a bear trap snapping shut. “You do remember Liang asked about Rollick, right?”

“Yes, but I wasn’t sure if it was true.”

“Kaia told me about all the deaths. Plenty of us have died over the centuries. It’s true.”

“Then how—”

“You don’t really think I trust you that much, do you?”

“No one trusts a mystic,” Caetl muttered again.

“And come to think of it, we’re both still connected to Liang. We need to split up before he guesses what we’ve been up to.”

“If you say so.” Gryid didn’t have the answers Caetl needed, and the answers he wanted, Gryid wouldn’t give him. “But I’ll need to take your horse.”

I’ll keep in touch,
Gryid said in his mind as he slipped off the saddle and handed him the reins.

“Just what I needed. Two of you in my head. A mystic’s mind is already crowded enough.”

Gryid smiled and raised a hand to his red hair in a salute. “Take care of yourself. I’ve no doubt we’ll meet again.” With that, he took off at a sprint, his height changing as he shifted ages.

Caetl pulled the reins slightly southward. The clip-clop of the horses’ hooves and their simple thoughts were a balm to his stressed mind. With no one else weighing on the psychic landscape, he relaxed in his saddle.

He flinched when the Wizard’s voice whispered,
Focus on how you’re going to convince my people to seek me out, dear mystic.

He hadn’t felt the Wizard pick up the amplifier this time, and the Ageless had tapped his thoughts somehow, which should’ve been impossible. Either he was growing weaker...

Or the Wizard was growing stronger.

Chapter 16

Something crashed through the underbrush, and Korreth woke with a start in total darkness. To his left, he made out the faintest ray of light, reassuring him he wasn’t blind.

“They’re back,” he heard Jorrim murmur.

Korreth fumbled for his fellow slave. When he noticed the chains around his wrists and ankles were missing, it all came back.

The battle. The Changeling kid turning into a regal golden beast. Fighting the feline man.

Clutching his stomach as he followed Jorrim, running and running and running…

A woman’s voice. “If we remain quiet…” Soledad. Their newest master.

“I could try leading them off again,” Jorrim said.

Korreth found the edge of the makeshift pallet he lay on and rolled off. Then he inched his way toward the light. When he pushed past what felt like reeds and moss, the brightness outside blinded him.

“Jorrim?” he whispered.

A hand landed on his shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re awake.”

“Hush now,” Soledad said. “Not a moment too soon, Korreth. It’s time to go.”

Together they helped him to his feet. Korreth blinked until he could focus on Jorrim’s worried expression. Soledad had disappeared.

“That can’t be right,” Jorrim muttered. “Lift up your shirt.”

“What do you mean?”

Jorrim motioned him to be quieter and ran his pale hands over the dark skin of Korreth’s stomach. When he met Korreth’s eyes, Jorrim looked bewildered.

“I thought she was going too far, saying you’re ready to travel. She must have taken your bandages off yesterday. The wound—and your infection—are already gone.”

“They were just some shallow cuts from a cat’s claws.”

Jorrim shook his head. “Trust me. Your wounds were much more serious than that.”

Korreth tapped his forearm.
She is Ancient. And her spell is strong. Now tell me what is happening.

Korreth saw no break in the forest in any direction. He’d been sleeping under a lean-to concealed by logs and leaves. Beside it lay a makeshift litter, made of tree limbs and reeds.

Jorrim continued in a barely audible voice, “Ever since we left the grasslands, we’ve been chased by what we believe to be mutated wild boar. They’re fast and can even climb if the trees are big enough.”

His friend’s worried expression confirmed the gravity of the situation.

“Help me load the litter with supplies,” Soledad said. She piled a stew pot and four bags atop it. Jorrim added several large canteens and one of the SCLs. The other he slung over his shoulder.