The Zygan Emprise: Renegade Paladins and Abyssal Redemption (45 page)

Benedict patted his mother’s arm. “Well, one
certainly did.”

I felt a shiver of disgust. Too weird a vibe
there for me.

John snorted. “They didn’t even let me have
my thoughts for comfort.” He clasped his head in his hands, his
face contorted in agony. “I had hoped to find the truths I’d
sought, but I discovered nothing. Just nothing. And I’d been afraid
of nothing all my life.”

The mist washed over my eyes again. John’s
search for answers had left him isolated with only an echo of his
own voice. And that voice so alone—how could it not?—had
changed.

I longed to touch something familiar. Spud,
Nephil Stratum, even Wart. Eloquent words flew back and forth at
the table before me, yet I felt more and more excommunicated,
desolate. I watched John’s flourishing features assume a healthy
glow before my eyes, and wished George or Connie could be with me
to welcome our brother, as well as to assuage the gnawing anxiety
tearing through my gut. I missed my friends, my family—and
my
John.

I could not hold back much longer. “Spud. I
want to see Spud,” I cried.

Benedict smiled at me and nodded. Anesidora
touched her ring and I was X-fanned from the dining room.
Alone.

* * *

Gunner. With the barb of her staff pointing
directly at my heart.

Damn.

“The Vizier sent me,” I said quickly, raising
my hands. “Don’t shoot.”

Frowning, Gunner stepped to one side. Behind
her, on a massive, ornate throne, sat a handsome young man;
sprouting from underneath his golden crown were blond curls
covering his bare, sculpted arms, on which rested two black ravens.
The young man’s piercing blue eyes were focused on me.

“You escaped the Cathars. That is honorable
and worthy of a reprieve,” he said in a deep voice. “The Vizier
chooses his acolytes well.”

“King Odius, I presume,” I ventured. Somehow,
I’d imagined the king as being old and gray. Come to think of it,
no one except Marlin looked old and gray in Valholler. Not the
warriors. Not Gunner, not Benedict, not Anesidora. Only those
screeching skeletons in the pits from which we’d fled.

“I am seeking my friend Spud,” I said. “Know
ye where he be?” (Sometimes, I do get carried away with the
dialects I’m using. Come to think of it, seeing as I was without an
Ergal to translate our conversations—where did all these Azgaror
folks learn English?)

“If you are referring to William Escott,”
Odius returned, unsmiling, “We expect him to return
momentarily.”

“Where did he go?” Spud would never have
abandoned me. Us.

Odius’ sigh carried the weight of millennia.
“The Vizier is only the most recent of our immigrants seeking
passage to the world of the Creation. Our ‘way station’, as it
were, provides and nourishes the armies that guard that path. A
thankless task, indeed.”

Gunner snorted. I jumped.

“It seems sometimes as if every ambitious and
corrupt general in the multiverse ends up at our doors.” Odius
opined. “I really do believe that hubris must be a necessary driver
of interdimensional transport.”

Gunner laughed, a deep, bellowing guffaw. I
jumped.

“Theodore Benedict is actually quite
refreshing. To consent to allowing your companion to tackle the
excursion first was most sagacious. You understand why I have
entrusted him to serve as my Vizier.”

“Wh—what’re you talking about?” I was livid.
And terrified. We had just rescued John from his misguided journey
to what he’d hoped would be Level 3. Spud couldn’t be foolish
enough to try the same trip. And force me to attempt another
rescue. “You’re saying Spud is test piloting a trip to—to?” Those
Cathar monsters wouldn’t let me, us, escape twice.

“Yes,” Odius said, “The launch portal to
heaven. But there is much advance study needed before the transport
can be tried. His measurements will be able to determine whether
the Syneph can muster enough energy from our dwarf suns to bypass
the Helianthi and their Somalderi.” The King smiled at me, adding.
“The guardians of Heaven’s Gates.”

I returned the smile, pretending to
understand, my fingers unconsciously stroking the Somalderis hidden
under my puffy silk blouse. That was the second time that
word—Helianthi—had come up this morning. It did sound a bit like
Project Helios, my brother’s secret mission. Were those Cathars
that had cruelly imprisoned John for his attempt Helianthi, too?
Perhaps Spud or Nephil Stratum might be able to fill me in.

“I can do it.”

The warm mist tickling my shoulders had a
familiar and welcome aura. Nephil Stratum.

* * *

And Spud. Leaning against a marble column
with his lopsided grin.

“Took you all long enough,” I bluffed,
nodding at Odius. “Benedict expected you hours ago.”

“We had to double check our estimates,” Spud
chimed in. “Wouldn’t want any surprises during transport.” Spud
winked. At me?

“If you can open heaven’s gates without a
fleece,” interjected Gunner, “We will finally be free of the
Helianthi.”

“Now that would be cause to celebrate,” Odius
echoed. Turning to me: “Tell the Vizier we shall meet in the
Champions Hall at solar apex. It is time to begin our campaign. We
must prepare for the return of Balder.”

“I can get you some Rogaine,” I muttered
under my breath, earning an elbow in the ribs from Spud as he
grabbed my wrist and tugged me towards a large door that Nephil
Stratum was opening.

The minute we had entered the deserted
passageway and were out of earshot, I turned on Spud, grabbing his
arms. “You’re actually planning to go with Benedict to Level
3?”

“I am relieved you have returned safely,” was
the quiet response as he extricated himself. “And I am flattered by
your concern.” His smile returned. “I was just helping Nephil
Stratum with her next steps.”

“It isn’t possible, Shiloh” whispered Nephil
Stratum in Zygan, “for a Syneph to manage that passage. But if
Benedict comes to understand that, he will then steal your
Somalderis.”

“Why hasn’t he done that already?” I dared to
ask that nagging question.

“Because the Fleece is empowered by the
Helianthi. It can transport us from brane to brane in Level 2, our
multiverse, but without their endorsement, it cannot unlock the
gates of Level 3. Benedict would find himself cast out into the
vacuum of the Cathars just as did John.”

“Despite that possibility, I do not trust
that Benedict might not take that risk of ending up in Cathar Hell
if he believes he has no other choice.” She patted my arm. “Our
first goal is to get you safely home.”

“So you don’t trust Benedict after all,” I
returned. I’d been heartbroken to think Nephil Stratum was one of
the “bad guys”, a Zygfed traitor. I lowered my voice. “Are you
working with Agriarctos?” I asked, hoping she, like my brother,
like Wart, was really working undercover.

“Sort of. But we shouldn’t chatter too much
here, Shiloh. We need to get you and Escott—and your brother—on
your way before Benedict sacrifices you all and tries to use your
Fleece as a battering ram into the gates of heaven.”

“Works for me. But won’t you be in danger
when he finds out you can’t make the crossing either?”

Nephil Stratum stroked my cheek gently with a
warm tuft. “I have…abilities that can protect me from Benedict’s
rage. Do not worry about my safety—just take care of yours.”

I wrapped my arms around her downy trunk and
buried them in her cloudy clusters. My voice was hoarse. “Will I
see you again?”

“I hope so, Shiloh, I hope so. When the time
is right. Til then, if you must, you can reach me through Alto
Stratum. But only in an emergency. I have to stay here to make sure
the lock stays on the gate,” she said, as she opened a door that
suddenly appeared beside us and led us into Benedict’s salon.

Chapter 10

The Grate Escape

I was stunned to see how healthy John looked;
it had only been a short time since I’d left his side at the
breakfast table. His cheeks had filled out, his skin was rosy, and
his eyes gleamed with an energy that I hadn’t seen since that long
night of cryptic discovery at the University of Maryland
synchrotron years ago. Anesidora’s magic medicine seemed to be even
more effective than the healing powers of Chidurian ale.

“Congratulations!” John cried as we entered
Benedict’s suite. “Level 3 is within our grasp.”

“Word travels quickly,” Spud commented, with
a side glance at Nephil Stratum. “There is still much research to
be done, but Nephil Stratum will be able to guide you.”

I was dimly aware of Benedict shaking Spud’s
hand, and Anesidora extending an arm to pat Nephil Stratum. My own
eyes were focused on my brother’s face—in shock. John couldn’t
possibly intend to stay here—with
Benedict
—and try again.
Not when I—when we
all
—desperately wanted him to join us
back home.

I stood frozen, blinking, hoping my ears had
misled me.

“Is there any way we can convince you to
stay, Escott?” interjected Benedict before I could respond. “From
the standpoint of ‘scientific curiosity’, perhaps?”

“I am afraid that my scientific explorations
are best confined to my native brane,” Spud said. “But I should be
interested in reading a monograph about your voyage after your
return.” He smiled at Nephil Stratum. “Any communications would be
fascinating.”

Nephil Stratum assented. “We’ll keep you in
the loop, William, I guarantee.”

John rested a hand on my shoulder. “So make
sure you tell George and Connie and the kids I’m all right, okay?
Don’t want them to worry.”

“No!” I shouted, brushing John’s arm off me.
Everyone turned in my direction, including Spud’s rising
eyebrow.

“I didn’t say it when I should’ve, three
years ago, but I’m saying it now—no! That’s enough, John, no more
Holy Grails. You’re coming back with us.”

John extended his hands, palms up, and nodded
at Anesidora. “Look at me, Shiloh, there’s nothing to worry about,
I’m back 150%. She’s one hell of a nurse.”

“That’s not—I’m not talking about your
health, John. I’m talking about
ours
.” I stopped to catch my
breath. “Billy isn’t even a teenager yet. He needs his older
brothers and sisters.”

John’s brow shaded his blue eyes. “Didn’t you
tell me you were working as a catascope? Those responsibilities
must be wreaking havoc with
your
babysitting duties.”

I pursed my lips. “Connie and George don’t
need me to babysit. But at least
I
see Billy once in a
while. Besides, I joined Zygint to try to find
you
.”

John sighed, “And I’m grateful you succeeded.
But don’t make me
your
Holy Grail. I’m just your brother,
healthy and whole. Your
adult
brother.”

I snorted. “Ha. Pot. Kettle. Black.”

“How dare you!” John’s pink face was now ruby
red as he aimed his glare in my direction. “You insolent little
brat—“

Before either of us could swing, we were
enveloped in a blinding cloud. Nephil Stratum had flown between us,
blocking our sight, and wrapped her fluffy puffs around my chest. I
felt a misty tendril inch inside my blouse and make contact with
the Somalderis. Was that shadow to my right my brother or Spud?

“Anesidora,” cued the Syneph. “Now.”

And we all exploded into a million molecules
again.

* * *

Area 51—present day?

Spud must have come to first, as he stood
over me waving our Ergals when I flicked open my eyes. My arm
instinctively went to cover my brow; the blinding sun of the
parched, Nevada desert would take a few minutes to get used to.
Except, the sun was somehow shaded by trees. And the dirt and
chaparral that I’d expected to be scratching my arms and legs under
my supine body had morphed into soft grass. This wasn’t the Nevada
we’d left behind in our interdimensional time loop, for sure. But
if not, how did Spud find our Ergals?

“They were resting on the lawn right by our
feet,” Spud explained as I stretched and sat up. In his hands, he
held his “stopwatch” and my “smart phone”. “The compass reading
confirms the same latitude and longitude from which we had departed
for Benedict’s brane,” he added, focusing on his Ergal’s watch
face.

“Well, at least they’re working.” I jumped up
and made a quick scan of the lush forest. “Wow. Sure looks
different around here. So green.” I nodded at the instruments in
his hands. “What do you think happened?”

Spud tossed me my Ergal and shrugged. “I
tried to find out, but I am only able to get simple, local
functions such as the compass to operate. Communications aren’t
running, and we can obtain no global metrics. Fortunately, the
library and internal data banks do seem to be preserved. But
nothing that actively connects with and utilizes Zygfed technology
is operative.”

I fiddled with my Ergal as well. “You’re
right. Mine, too. No non-Terran functions operational.” I tried
several settings. “No morph, no lev, no invisiblizing. Damn.”

“And no weapons. I was unable to Ergal a stun
gun, or even a Colt 45. Our Ergals had now become what they have
been disguised to resemble—personal digital assistants and
timepieces.” Spud pulled up a historical file and began to scan its
pages. “Obviously, things here are not as we left them. The
question is why?”

And then I remembered. “John!” John was lying
a few feet away from where we stood, breathing softly, his eyes
closed. “He still hasn’t woken up!”

“Wrong again, Sis,” he growled, opening his
eyes. “I was hoping I’d wake up in Benedict’s suite tasting another
dose of Anesidora’s divine nectar.” He sat up with a grunt and
muttered, “And yet, here I am. Where the hell are we?”