The Island on the Edge of Forever (The Epic of Aravinda Book 2) (9 page)

CHAPTER
14

A NIGHT OF CELEBRATION

Asha froze for a moment, and then slowly turned around.

After what felt like a full minute, she was staring directly at a huge warthog with long black hairs and formidable curving tusks protruding from its face.

“Shh,” she said softly. Asha had never tried to soothe a creature quite like this before, and this was the first strategy that occurred to her.

The warthog’s eyes narrowed on her, and it pounded the ground with one of its cloven feet.

Asha realized she needed a new plan, and without hesitation, turned on one foot and bolted in the opposite direction.

A white hot feeling of pure electric charge surged through her heart and mind as she ran through the forest. Trees blurred past, and her heart thumped in her chest as she dodged ferns and jumped over stray rocks and fallen branches. As she ran, she heard the warthog getting closer and closer.

Asha pictured its large, pointy tusks charging toward her.

She pushed herself to run faster, but it was difficult in the thick of the forest. The light had grown low, and the leaves were a deep indigo now. She wondered if she should try hiding. Still, the creature grew closer.

Asha huffed and puffed. Ahead, she saw the forest becoming thinner. The warthog was right behind her now, and she pushed herself even harder as she emerged from the wilderness, finding her feet caught up in a black sand beach. Ahead, she saw a long oval boat floating in the water beside a long wooden pier. It was being rowed out to sea with long oars, and Asha sprinted across the pier in a mad dash. The boat was just beyond the pier now, leaving her only one choice. With her last ounce of strength, she pushed herself faster and jumped off the end, careening through the air and tumbling onto baskets piled high with fruit.

Ten people glared at her as she sat up. The boat rocked back and forth from her landing, and Asha remained silent as she took in her new surroundings. In the middle of the boat was a lit torch, and most of them were rowing the boat forward with large oars. They each wore primitive clothing made of tan skins and blue palm leaves, and they were surprisingly unperturbed to see Asha, wearing her seamless maroon jumpsuit and boots.

“Ah, hello!” Asha said. “Don’t worry, I come in—”

“Peace. Am I correct?” The one who spoke was an older man with short, grey hair and fine wrinkles. A small girl sat beside him, watching him row.

“Y-yes. I’m Asha. I’m visiting.”

“Greetings, Asha. I am Goranku, and these are some of my kin.” He gestured around them.

“Papa?” the small girl said, “Will the lady clean up her mess?”

Goranku turned to the girl. “Yes, little one.” He turned back to Asha. “If she is righteous, she shall.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Asha turned and tried to stack the spilled fruits neatly in the basket. She glanced behind the boat, seeing little, except an impressive amount of stars filling the night sky. “I was running from one of those warthogs. Didn’t you see?”

“No. What warthog?”

“Well, it
was
there. If I had my—” Asha caught herself. She suspected it wouldn’t be wise to talk of weapons in her present company. She studied them again in the orange torchlight. Four women, four men, and two children, each dressed in crude plant-based clothing. Why hadn’t they responded to her unexpected arrival with more surprise?

“I am here to find my friend,” she continued. “His name is Zahn. We think he may have come here. Have any of you heard of a visitor? He would have come from the sky. I also can’t find the person I came here with. She wears violet — would be pretty easy to spot.”

Another man spoke. “Only the divine come from the sky, and we have not heard of anyone by that name, nor seen anyone by that description. What of you? Where did you come from? Are you one of the ocean people?”

Asha wasn’t sure how to respond for a few moments and examined the floor. The boat was carved out of a single tree.

“Yes,” she finally said. It wasn’t entirely true, but it was better than being considered a deity. “And I’m just here to find my friends. I’m sorry that I arrived so unexpectedly.”

“Ah, to save one who is lost is noble. You may accompany us to the dock.” He studied her face. “Something else is troubling you. What is wrong, traveller?”

“It’s nothing. I was just thinking about what I’m going to say to my friend when we eventually find him, if we ever find him.” She paused, taking a few moments to observe the firelight in the distance. “Zahn wants me to move to where he lives, but it’s not an easy choice to make.”

The man raised his eyebrows. “Is his island far?”

“Uh, yes. Quite far. I would miss him very much, but my people need me back at home. I feel torn, Goranku.”

The man considered this in silence for some moments.

“Balancing our obligations with our feelings can be difficult. What is your heart telling you? Reflect on this.”

Asha studied the horizon but could discern little against the light of the torch. “Thank you. I appreciate that. And forgive me if this seems like a silly question, but where are we going?”

The little girl glanced over to Asha. A fire of excitement was in her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“What is it?” Asha asked.

“My daughter is excited for you,” Goranku replied. “You are indeed blessed. Tonight is a night of celebration and union. We will arrive soon. You are, of course, invited to join us.”

“Oh, thank you. Should I have brought something?”

The second man spoke again. “All you need bring is an open heart, my child.”

And Asha sat in silence and listened to the sound of water as it lapped up against the boat.

After some time, Asha could see a row of torches outlining an expansive beach up ahead, and beyond that was a dark forest. As they grew nearer, she noticed movement behind the torches and the deep thumping sound of drums. The closer they grew, the more the size and power of the event intrigued her. Beyond the torches, huddled around an immense bonfire that was at least two meters tall, were hundreds of people, spinning and dancing in mad ecstasy. Most of them were singing, and all of them were moving to the rhythm of a series of drums at the far end. Beyond the circle was a smaller fire with a flat surface suspended above it where a few people were cooking food.

The boat made a thud as it bumped a nearby pier, and the two men Asha had spoken to stood up, grabbed a hold of some poles that protruded from the water, and tied ropes to them. Each of them stepped off of the boat and onto the pier, offering their hands to the others as they stepped off. Asha got up and Goranku offered his hand down to her, his smile especially alive as the golden torchlight danced across his round face.

“Thanks,” she said.

“No. Thank you,” Goranku said. “You honor us by your visit.”

Asha didn’t know what to say and followed all ten of them to the end of the pier. The drumming was thunderous now, and she approached the bonfire, mesmerized by the sea of people that danced in jubilant celebration around it, each dressed in similar clothing as the people on the boat. Yet they were not merely dancing to the music, but somehow becoming indistinguishable from the music itself.

They
were
the music. The dance was the music. Like dozens of flickering flames, their hearts channeled the music all around the fire with breathtaking beauty, and despite her hunger it took Asha several minutes before she realized that a delicious scent was also intermingled into the air.

She remembered the other smaller fire she had seen during their approach and wandered around the sea of dancers as best she could without entering any of the thick, blue wilderness that bordered the bonfire area. After a few minutes of careful navigating and bumping into more than a couple people, she reached the small fire where an impressive selection of platters had been put out.

Dark blue paste filled a bowl with dried chips beside it. Bunches of orange and yellow fruit had been left out, and even what appeared to be bread was sliced finely at the end of a long, splintered table. It would have struck her as remarkably similar to the sprouted bread her father used to make on the outpost, except that it was sea-green. Or was it the lighting? No, it was cast in firelight, so it was probably bluer than she suspected.

In a mixture of bravery and sheer hunger, she tried a bit of everything at the table. The dark blue paste was especially delicious on the bread, although when one of the dancers walked by, they seemed amused that she was combining them.

No matter. She couldn’t expect herself to understand the customs of these people on the first day. As long as she avoided an overt conflict, she wasn’t concerned. All that mattered was that she find Mira. She hoped to find Zahn, too, but she had to admit to herself that, most likely, he had never even been here.

She felt a lurching feeling in her stomach and sat down on the ground beside the table. What could have happened to Mira? Should she have searched the underwater caverns? Would the jellies have even let her?

Asha watched the dancers for a few moments but suddenly felt sleepy. She meditated for a while and again tried to use her intuition to feel if Mira was still alive. She didn’t get the feeling she was dead, so she decided to wait until daybreak when the island would be easier to search.

Just as she was about to doze off, Asha felt someone grab her hand, pull her up, and draw her into the dance. She barely had a chance to see who it was before she found herself dancing with the young girl from the boat. The drumming music overtook her senses, and soon her maroon jacket was on the ground, allowing her thin shirt sleeves to flutter with the music. At last, she had embraced the dance, and the minutes melted into hours.

CHAPTER
15

RAZAKH’S NIGHTMARE

A deep, heaving rush of air echoed throughout the chamber as a mighty beast struggled in the midst of a terrible dream.

The creature Razakh was a uniquely revolting individual; and on this occasion, particularly ominous thoughts filled his mind, thoughts of a powerful light reaching deep into his Dominion, shattering all that he had worked so hard to bind together. Dark nebulas blew away, as if by a cosmic wind, yet when he saw the source of the light, he was not at all surprised.

The Accursed Orb, the object that had not only destroyed his fissure but also many of his best warriors, now haunted his dreams; and he rolled around on his bed of slime, nestled at the lowest levels of his rocky lair.

The slime, which was a natural excretion of the Vakragha species, provided a protective layer from the elements when not wearing their defensive outer shell, which had since been genetically engineered to be removable. In fact, it was rather impressive that such a monstrous species still managed to follow the galactic template for life at all: somehow managing to have two legs, two arm-like appendages, and a head, in spite of their tortured form.

Although by now, the Vakragha species was just as much a product of
artificial
selection as it was natural selection, and a cursory examination of their jet-black carapace suggested this fact. Mundane features had long since been refined by geneticists of old, such as retracting claws (important if you want to use certain tactile equipment) and back spines (also important if you want to impress the opposite sex). Recent additions were much more interesting: long, twisting horns which arched out of the back of Razakh’s skull, the heretofore mentioned detachable carapace (which made sleeping somewhat more comfortable), and increased shielding, allowing resistance to an impressive array of cosmic radiation.

For Razakh, that last ability had come in handy lately. After all, it wasn’t every day that a fissure in spacetime was forcibly closed, momentarily spewing exotic particles from the timespace realm. Even though he wasn’t especially sensitive, even to his own physical sensations, Razakh had certainly felt the difference after that day. His carapace had felt it, too, which was another reason why he enjoyed sleeping without it. Even with fresh agnihawk being supplemented into his diet, Razakh’s health advisor was concerned that he wouldn’t heal in time for the Grand Stratagem he had outlined just a few cycles before.

And so, Razakh tossed and turned, as dreams of the Accursed Orb returned to him again and again. He arched his back upward and groaned in a pitch so low that some of the pebbles on a nearby surface vibrated.

The sight of a Vakragha is bad enough even when one is wearing a carapace, but without it, Razakh looked like a true creature of the Abyss. Thick transparent skin revealed sludge-green muscles wrapped around grey, barbed bones, held on by thick, brown sinews. From up close, the creature looked completely revolting; and from ten steps back, wielding razor-sharp fangs and claws, he looked even worse.

Razakh’s nightmare ended, and he pulled himself out of his slimy hole and methodically snapped a piece of his dark carapace onto his body. All around him were round canisters, and when he was done assembling himself, he dug through them, looking for something to break his short fast. All of the canisters he could find were empty, and his stomach gurgled. He was about to scream out, until his claws came across something wriggling around at the bottom of the ninth canister. With ease, he pulled out a dazzling bird with streaks of red running down its wings. It screeched in protest and flailed around violently.

“Beautiful,” Razakh whispered, and promptly bit off the bird’s squawking head with a solid crunching sound, sending a stream of bright red blood shooting up to the ceiling.

Blood ran down Razakh’s arm, and he licked it off before biting into the bird once more, sending more blood down his long fangs and neck. It wasn’t long before the front of his carapace was splattered in blood, but he didn’t notice. He’d started his morning this way for days on end while he waited for his slaves to finish his new flagship and the fleet that would support it. While it wasn’t the glorious flagship he had once commanded, it would have to suffice until an even better one could be built. Indeed, he dreamed of a day when many systems would build never-ending armadas for him.

That day would soon come. He had a stratagem to ensure it.

The creature Razakh lumbered over to the hexagonal door, unlatched it, and rolled it open. Standing outside was Zura, one of his two chief advisors. Her expression was frozen, as if she had been studying the surface of the door for some time. Zura was a minor Vakragha, similar in appearance to Razakh, although much shorter. She had served him even before he had conquered the nebula.

Razakh narrowed his crimson eyes and scrunched up his flat, scaly nose. “If you don’t have a terribly good reason for staring at my door, then today will be especially painful for you, Zura.”

“Autarch!” she said. “I was afraid to wake you. Yet I felt no one else should know before you.”

“Know? And what, my terrible Zura, should I know? News of the fleet?”

“Yes, but there’s more. We have detected twin timespace signatures near the core.”

Razakh laughed a terrible bellow of a laugh. “And why should I care? The factions are tearing space all over the galaxy. How do you think we escaped Rodhas without those Confederation worms realizing it? Go away and bother me again when you have something of consequence to steal my time with.” And he stormed down the hall to where some sunlight filtered in.

“But, Autarch!” Zura struggled to keep up with him. “The timespace signatures match Confederation ships. We believe—”

Razakh stopped and grabbed her neck in one swift motion. She tried to gasp, but couldn’t. “That it’s
them
?
Zura, do you understand how tremendous this galaxy is? Do you understand how many scouts the Confederation sends out?”

Zura wheezed, unable to answer until he loosened his grasp just enough to allow her to speak.

“Of course, Autarch,” she rasped, “but there was something else. We followed them to a world with a highly exotic energy signature, similar to the Accursed Orb. We believe it could be the artifact that we seek. Only a Chintamani stone could—”

“Fool!” Razakh bellowed, throwing her against the stone wall. “Why didn’t you tell me this at once? Redirect all scouts in the area to follow them, but from a safe distance. The Confederation cannot be allowed to discover how perfect our new cloak shell is until we are ready to strike.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Razakh turned and stormed onward, and Zura scurried after him. “And how long until my cruiser is spaceworthy? What is the status of its battle systems? The Harvest has already been inexcusably delayed, Zura!”

“We are moving as quickly as we can! Many of the beasts were destroyed in the eruption, but we have managed to complete the upgrade on the timespace drive.”

“And the negative energy wells?”

Razakh marched so fast that Zura struggled to keep up with him, and he reached the end of the long hall before she did. Just ahead, the hall opened up to a vantage point which connected to a path that led around the mountain.

The autarch stepped outside. The sky was a thick brown soup, as if something terrible had just been spewed into it, and ahead they could see a rusty, eroded mountain range extend into the distance. But that didn’t interest Razakh whatsoever. The skyline of Hataaza Darad was not why he got up in the morning.

What rested far below, between the patches of blackened lava deposits, provided far more motivation: dozens of starships that were so dark that light itself avoided them entirely. In space, they were invisible to the eye, even without their cloak. But here they looked completely out of place, and hundreds of Hataazan technicians crawled over their jagged surfaces as they worked.

“The negative energy wells, Zura?” he growled.

“The negative energy wells aren’t ready yet, Autarch, but—”

Razakh screwed up his face in anger and turned to Zura. “Do you see those ships?” He extended a sharp claw pointing down to them. “Those ships will be spaceworthy in two days. Otherwise,” he grew so close to her that his grotesque face completely filled her view and screamed, “I will personally launch you into an abyssal dimension!”

Zura whimpered. “My lord, more beasts are being grown, but it will take time before they—”

“An abyssal dimension, Zura! That is all.”

Razakh stormed back down the hall, leaving Zura’s lungs contracting faster than she’d ever felt them move before. She reached out the tip of one claw to the center of her heaving chest, and a strange thought came to her mind.

Was this what having a heart felt like?