Defiance Rising (24 page)

He steps out of the shadows looking despondent and haggard.
 
“Why did you keep this from me?”

“I…” I begin but my voice cracks unnaturally.
 
Clearing my throat does little to help the lump in my throat.
 
“I never wanted to.”

“That’s crap and you know it!”
 
He stomps into the glow of the torchlight.
 
“You were trying to save your own skin.
 
That’s what cowards do and you’ve never been one of those before.
 
Did Bastien tell you to lie?”

“No!” I cry.
 
“He has nothing to do with this!”

Eamon scoffs, rolling his eyes.
 
“Please.
 
I’m not a fool, Illyria.”

“I’m serious.
 
I can’t help it that he was with me every time someone was trying to kill me.
 
It just happened.”

“I should have been with you!
 
Me!
 
Not him!”
 
Eamon’s face contorts with anger.
 
“I’m the one who looks out for you.”

“I know,” I whisper, stepping closer to him.
 
“You’ve always been there for me, Eamon.
 
I’m sorry you weren’t the one to help me, but if he hadn’t been there I would have died.
 
You can’t fault him for that.”

He swallows several times before running his hands through his unruly curls.
 
“Why didn’t you tell the others about the men you killed in the factory?”

The sound of the rushing waterfall covers my gasp, but my shock is no less evident.
 
“How do you know about that?”

Eamon averts his gaze, focusing on the swirling foam in the pool below.
 
“I saw it.”

“How?” I demand.
 
“Not even Aminah can get through to my mind right now.”

“I’m not a mind reader,” he spits out, as if the mere idea disgusts him.
 
“I can see the future and the past when I focus.”

I blink, sure that I’ve heard him wrong.
 
As his expression hardens, I realize he’s not in a joking mood.
 
“When did that develop?”

He lifts his gaze to pin me to the wall.
 
“The night you released that psychic blast.”

I sink to the floor, overcome with grief.
 
“I’m so sorry.
 
I had no idea…”

“That I would find out.”

“No!” I cry out as a tear trickles down my face.
 
“That’s not what I meant.”

He turns away.
 
His entire body seems stiff, unwelcoming.
 
Fear threatens to overtake me as I surge to my feet and latch onto him, spinning him to face me.

“I knew it was my fault that everyone changed.
 
I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing this look on your face.”

His chin draws up and his jaw clenches.
 
“When did you become such a coward?”

“When I became deadly.”
 
I hang my head, pressing it against Eamon’s chest.
 
He doesn’t make any move to console me and that makes me tear up even more.
 
“I don’t know what’s happening to me, Eamon.
 
I was terrified of getting you involved, of you getting hurt because of me.
 
I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

“And you thought lying to me was the answer?” He growls.

“No!” I jerk upright, fighting to look at him through a disarray of hair.
 
“I was going to tell you when I had the answers.
 
When I knew I could trust myself around you.
 
These outbursts seem to come when I get really emotional.”

For the first time I see a slight chink in Eamon’s armor.
 
“And you thought you might be emotional around me?”

“Of course!
 
You’re the closest thing I have to family, Eamon.
 
I was terrified of losing you.”
 
I reach up and slowly press my palm against his face.
 
“I’m so sorry…about everything.”

He leans into my touch, closing his eyes.
 
A small sigh escapes his lips.
 
“I know,” he whispers, placing his hand over mine.
 
His other hand encircles my waist and draws me to his chest.
 
I lay my head over his heart and breathe in the familiar scent of leather and pine, the smell of a hunter.

Hugging him feels like coming home.
 
It is familiar, safe.
 
He leans back into the wall and supports my weight as I nestle into him.
 

I’ve lost count of how many nights we have fallen asleep like this, our hearts beating in perfect unity.
 
I guess, if I were to be honest, I can see why everyone thinks Eamon and I will end up together.
 
He is the perfect match for me.
 
Maybe
that
is why I have resisted for so long.
 
Perhaps he’s too perfect for me.

We lean like this until the muscles in my calves begin to quiver.
 
I push off his chest and offer him a sheepish grin.
 
“Am I forgiven?”

He extends a wry smile back.
 
“You know I can’t stay mad at you for long.”

“I do.”
 
I hold out my hand to him and wait for him to clasp it.
 

Eamon pulls me back as I start toward the arched stone doorway.
 
“I told you I saw what you did, but I also saw your grief afterward.
 
I know you didn’t mean to kill those men.”

My smile falters as tears sting my eyes.
 
“No.
 
I didn’t.”

He squeezes my hand.
 
“You’re not a killer, Illyria.
 
That thing inside of you is.
 
If this Kyan guy can help you then I’m willing to give him a chance, but I’ll be watching him.”
 

I grin, tugging on his arm.
 
“Always my big brother, ready to leap in and fight for me.”
 
As I lead him into the tunnel, I can’t but notice the frown that settles over his features before we dip back into the darkness.

Twenty

I move toward the stone circle, wary and alert.
 
The birds sing their mournful tune in the trees, bidding farewell to autumn.
 
Squirrels scramble around before me, winding around trees with last minute nut rations to store before winter hits.
 
The trees quiver in the strong gusty winds, shedding the last of their lonesome leaves, stretching their limbs one last time before succumbing to a long winter slumber.

I pause, listening for any sounds beyond the large stone boulder before me.
 
Instinct tells me that I’m not alone, but I can’t see or hear Kyan.
 
This puts me at a grave disadvantage, one that I’m loathe to accept.

Leaping up to perch atop the rough stone, I pause only a second to compare its surface to that of the concrete streets of the City.
 
The texture is similar but this feels different, less manufactured.

“You’re right on time,” a voice calls from below.

I look up to find Kyan standing in the center of the circle, his hands splayed open in welcome.
 
The firm press of my dagger at my back is calming but I have no doubt Kyan is already well aware of its presence.
 

“Won’t you join me?”

I dart furtive glances all around, checking any blind spots before I spring into a flip and land less than twenty feet from him.
 
His grin broadens as he turns his face to the side, as if he’s smelling the air.

“Why don’t you invite your friends to join us?
 
I’m sure they would like to hear what I have to say firsthand.”

Toren rises first, appearing directly over Kyan’s shoulder on the far rim.
 
Aminah’s bouncing curls appear less than five feet to his left.
 
Zahra, Bastien and Eamon each rise from different sections of the boulders.
 
Apart from Toren, whose scowl would send a young child running for their mother, the others appear curious.

“I told you it wouldn’t work.
 
You can’t sneak up on him.”
 
It’s hard to keep the smug grin off my face as Toren helps Aminah down.
 
Not that I’m trying very hard.
 
Despite my attempts to convince him otherwise, Toren was adamant that his plan would work.
 
I guess he had to learn the hard way.

Each of my friends descends into the barren circle and come to rest by my side.
 
Even knowing my friends were nearby the entire time, it does admittedly feel better to have them within arm’s reach.
 
Bastien pauses next to my left side while Eamon towers to my right.
 

I can’t help but notice the contrast between the two guys.
 
Although they are not all that different in height, they have remarkable physical and personality differences.
 
Eamon is fair skinned, light haired while Bastien is dark, rugged and self-assured.
 
They are like opposing forces, light versus dark, noble versus dangerous.
 
It’s infuriating that both seem to be calling me in different directions.

“Now that you’re all here, I’d like to begin with a few answers.”
 
Kyan turns to look each person in the eye.
 
“I can tell you have a wide range of questions for me, but I’d like to speak first, if that’s ok with you.”

Toren shifts uneasily beside Eamon but says nothing.
 
I glance toward Bastien and notice Zahra has actually severed her symbiotic attachment to his hip.
 
She’s leaning slightly forward on her toes, lips parted as she stares wide-eyed at Kyan.
 
I glance at Kyan and notice the tiniest hint of a flush along his collar.
 
He seems to be working rather hard to not look in her direction.

Kyan offers me a tight smile with no explanation to follow.
 
“If you will all take a seat.”

He motions to the ground behind us.
 
Toren grumbles under his breath as he helps Aminah down before settling in next to her, wrapping his arm protectively around her shoulders.
 
I’m actually really surprised he allowed her to leave the safety of the caves.
 
He must be desperate to get a read on Kyan through her.
 

Kyan sits and tucks his hands into his lap, offering each of us a warm smile.
 
Bastien tenses as Kyan’s gaze falls on him but quickly returns to me.
 

“I’m sure you have often wondered who and what we Caldonians are.
 
We look like you in many ways, we speak, eat, and sleep like you, and yet we are distinctly different.
 
Earth used to spend a great deal of time focusing on the mysteries of the stars beyond your planet.
 
They made moving pictures about killer aliens who invade the planet.
 
Obviously my skin is not green, nor do I want to eat your brains.”

“Thank god for that,” Eamon mutters over my shoulder.
 
I shift and smile back at him.

Kyan continues on.
 
“My race may be alien to you, but not to this planet.
 
In my past, and your not too distant future, there will be a great war among worlds, a war that will eradicate all human life, apart from those who manage to escape.
 
I won’t bore you with the details of how time and space travel works.
 
All you need to know is that my people have returned to save yours.”

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” Bastien growls darkly.

“Indeed.” Kyan nods, his expression no less fierce.
 
“The original plans, as presented to our assembly several years ago, was that of a peace mission.
 
One that would help your people prepare for the coming war.
 
We were misled.”

“By whom?” I ask.
 
Each of us lean forward, our full attention on Kyan’s tale.

“A man called Aloysius, self-proclaimed King on Calisted, my home world.
 
When he first approached the assembly, he spoke great words of wisdom, promoting peaceful sovereignty.
 
Many people fell prey to his poisonous words, but a few did not.
 
Those who opposed his climb to power were silenced.
 
Over time, the disappearances began to add up but, by then, it was too late.
 
He had built himself an army that was unmatched by any of the outlying planets.
 
He took control of our government by might.
 
The blood of thousands stains his throne.”

“And he sent you here?
 
Why?” Eamon speaks up.

“Aloysius is fueled by greed, for power and revenge.
 
He was among the survivors who managed to escape the war.
 
His wife and child were not so lucky.”

“He’s trying to save his family,” Aminah whispers.
 
Tears sparkle along her lashes.

“Yes.”
 
Kyan nods.
 
“And no.
 
Time passes differently on Calisted than it does here.
 
One Earth year equals twenty-five there.
 
Aloysius has spent many years moving past his grief for his wife.
 
His greed has now replaced his mourning.”

“How old are you?” Zahra speaks up.
 
I glance over at her, shocked by the soft tone in her voice.
 

Kyan’s cheeks flush as he looks at her.
 
“We also age differently.
 
The first eighteen years we grow like you, at a normal pace.
 
After that, time seems to slow for us as we reach our eighteenth birthright.
 
On your world I look twenty years old, but on Calisted I’m 68.”

“So you’re an old man then?” Bastien laughs, winking at me.

“Not at all.
 
Our oldest living founder is nearly 780 years old, but on your world would only look 60.
 
It is all a matter of perspective.
 
On Calisted, I am still considered to be a teenager.”

Glancing at Zahra, it’s obvious she’s relieved to hear this.
 
I roll my eyes and turn away, catching Eamon’s conspiratorial grin from the corner of my eye.
 

“So if this Aloysius isn’t here to save his family, he must be here because of the war.”

Kyan smiles at Toren despite the fact that he refuses to do anything more than glare back.
 
“A very astute deduction, Toren.
 
Yes, he has come back, because of the war, but not to help your people.
 
He wants to win this time.”

“How is that possible?” Eamon asks.
 
“Human’s obviously didn’t do so well the first time around, and your king has done a pretty good job wiping us out now, so what’s he playing at?”

A vision unfolds in my mind with crystal clarity.
 
The air is filled with huge, hulking ships setting the night sky alight with fire and shrapnel.
 
Men scramble along the war torn ground, dressed in tattered rags.
 
They are battling hand-to-hand with giant men, each nearly seven feet tall with skin that looks shockingly like the scales of a snake’s back.
 
Their noses are thin slits of skin that gape open as they suck in great breaths of air.
 

Each alien is broad chested, with a patchwork of red scars and gruesome self-inflicted tattoos running down their bare skulls and along their spines.
 
I can only imagine it be to a tally of the number of people they have slain.
 
The ground is a river of blood.
 
Bodies lie everywhere, dotting the landscape with decay and disease, but still the battle rages.
  

“They’re here to replace us.” I whisper, blinking as the image fades from before my eyes.

Kyan watches me closely as the others react with various outbursts.
 
“You saw it?”

I nod.
 
Movement to my right catches my eye and I turn to see Eamon’s haunted eyes staring blankly back at me.
 
His skin is void of color, his hands shaking at his sides.
 
“There’s nothing we can do to stop it,” he whispers.
 
“We’re all going to die.”

“No,” Kyan says emphatically, drawing back our attention.
 
“That’s not entirely true.
 
What you have both seen is only a glimpse of what
may
happen.”

Bastien watches me closely as I fight back against the panic rising within.
 
I shake my head at him and wrap my arms around my knees.
 
He turns his gaze back to Kyan.
 
“Is this why you’re here?
 
Why you care so much about training Illyria?
 
She is the key, isn’t she?”

“Yes.”
 
Kyan nods solemnly.
 
He clears his throat and for the first time drops his gaze completely.
 
This piques my curiosity as I watch an array of emotions flit across his face before he speaks.
 
“Illyria is the Shadow Walker, the only one known to my kind.
 
Her birth was foretold by three prophets long before I was born.
 
They claim that she alone can bring balance to our worlds.”

Zahra snorts in disbelief, but I don’t give her the satisfaction of acknowledging her outburst.
 
“What about my friends?
 
I changed them somehow.”

“No.”
 
Kyan shakes his head.
 
“You didn’t change them, Illyria.
 
You released them.”

“Care to explain that one?” Toren asks.
 
Although there is still a definite bite to his tone, it has dropped a notch in the last few minutes.

Kyan sits forward and steeples his fingers before him.
 
“When I first met Illyria, I told her that I could sense her because she was one of us.
 
I’ve sensed her from the moment I arrived on your planet, but she was not alone.
 
I have sensed each of you as well.
 
You are all among my kind.”

A gurgling sound rises from Toren’s throat as he staggers to his feet.
 
“That’s not possible.
 
We are nothing like you!”

Aminah tugs for his hand but he refuses to be consoled as he begins to frantically pace behind us.
 
Eamon sits back, blowing out a deep breath as he tangles his fingers through his curls.
 
Zahra’s mouth gapes open in shock.
 
Only Bastien keeps his calm, but I can tell that he’s wondering if
this
is the reason Kyan allowed him to run the night his parent’s died.