Collision: The Battle for Darracia - Book 2 (The Darracia Saga) (2 page)

He threw the shells of his crab onto a neat pile, sucking the meat from the tiny claws. He should eat
all of them, he thought with a mean chuckle. She missed the crabs nightly progress; Denita never learned. He eyed the last few crabs and groaned. Last time she had walked in the shallow waters she had cut her foot. No, it wasn’t worth it—he’d have to nurse her again, and hear her complaints. She could be an ornery pain in the ass. Better leave her enough to satisfy her hunger. He tried to remember Hilde’s soft laughter, and Denita’s velvet voice smothered the ladylike sound. Instead he pulled a frayed, black ribbon from a pouch and held it to his nose. Her scent was gone. Just like Hilde. Gone, forever. None of that mattered now, anyway. The one he wanted more than life was taken from him this last year, killed by the hand of her brother, Pacuto. Zayden could not rest until he brought her traitorous father to justice.

The four moons lit the beach, bathing him in their glow. He watched phosphorus mengles dance under the waves, their multicolored poison glowing iridescently under the swirling sea. Swimming was
out of the question. One sting from their tails and he would sink to the bottom of the water never to be seen again. He drank deeply from a flask, swallowing the burn of the liquor, his eye never leaving the horizon of the endless ocean. Then what would his guest do, he thought contemptuously. He needed this complication the way one needed a headache. She would do nothing but slow him down, and although they had a common hatred for Staf Nuen, Zayden parked himself here hoping she’d lose interest. Denita had howled with outrage when he landed, screaming for him to proceed to Planta and find his uncle. He didn’t need her or anyone else. He didn’t want her or anyone else, for that matter.

He eyed the circular mark on his upper bicep. It didn’t hurt anymore, and he supposed Reminda would know someone who could get rid of it. As much as he hated it, he thought he’d keep it now. It was just another scar, like his ruined face, marked on this journey for revenge. Taking a faded patch from his pocket, he covered the empty place where his eye
used to be. A comet streaked across the sky. He searched his memory for its name and came up with nothing. Due to his flight patterns, he knew every celestial event in the sky. Hearing about this one must have escaped him. He watched its progress, its feathered tail stretched out for miles, curving toward the west. Comets always meant something. Emmicus, his old tutor, always said that. Something was going to happen, he thought, wiping the back of his hand against his mouth. The salt and sand burned against his lips. Yes, he scanned the stygian sky, something was coming, he just wasn’t sure of when or what.

Chapter 2

V’sair, the young king of Darracia, stared pensively out of the window wall from his private chamber. It was the place he loved most in his castle, where he had spent many peaceful hours studying with his navigator, Emmicus. Leaning his head against the cool glass, he looked down on the Desa below, wondering where Tulani was now.

Aqin, the ancient volcano, was dormant again, and Quyroos were stubbornly rebuilding their homes on its craggy surface. A light mist created a wall of clouds that obscured the landscape. The air felt thick, the city strangely silent. The dense fog muted the sounds of traffic. The city of Syos looked peaceful, the forest of the Desa, not so much, and V’sair, not at all.

Nothing had worked right since he was crowned. His father had been the driving force for tolerance of the Quyroos. Without him, getting everybody to the Moon Council had been almost impossible. First
there had been several months of mourning. So many had been killed. Barely a clan on Darracia had not suffered. Those who sided with his uncle languished in prison, cutting V’sair’s armed forces in half. In the spirit of equality, he had invited the Quyroos to join up. He was unprepared for the blatant hostility between the two species. While his father sought to usher in an age of peace and understanding, V’sair was bequeathed a planet divided by prejudice and distrust. He wanted to change things, to bring the equality and peace he knew deep in his heart was the right way for his home.

General Swart accused him of rushing these new laws. The older man was insecure with so small a fighting force. They had argued about importing large cannons. Swart wanted to modernize the army; V’sair would not have it. Swart had taken his place as V’sair’s grand mestor, his advisor, and though he was loyal unto death, he was no friend to his late father’s policies. He wanted to build up the army and go after the prince’s nefarious uncle, Staf Nuen.
Eliminate the threat of invasion, then fix the problems at home, he had urged the young king.

While V’sair knew his uncle was still out there, planning something, the pressing problems of unrest lay heavy on his young shoulders. He missed his father’s quiet strength, he missed his brother’s support, he missed Tulani’s unconditional love. He was bereft.

His heart melted when he thought of Tulani. They had known each other forever, but he only realized what she meant to him when they learned the secrets of the Fireblade together. When his cousin threatened her with bodily harm, he discovered he was capable of a killing rage that filled him with white-hot lava. His heart and mind knew Tulani, and he felt connected to her in a way he had never experienced before. When the good general had brought up a marriage alliance with a princess of another planet, V’sair silenced his grand mestor with royal finality. He wanted no one but the Quyroo high priestess. Tulani was as much a part of him as his
arm, or eyes. He would wait forever until they could find peace in each other’s arms.

The warm, wet tongue of Felise bathed his hand. Twining his fingers in the curly black hair on the top of her head, he looked down, a smile tugging at his lips with her mournful eyes. His mother had gifted him with a newborn jast mere days after his father was murdered. His pet was a mess, nervous to be separated from her litter, her clumsy paws tracking in the red dust that always drifted onto the balconies. Felise rubbed her wiry whiskers against his palm, demanding attention in her selfish way. She panted, leaping onto her hind legs, her front paws resting easily on his shoulders, and a laugh escaped his lips. She was not tiny anymore, and a rather big nuisance as well, because while his pet was really still an infant, she had grown to almost half her adult size, and an awesome size it was too.

He heard the door open and knew it was his mother from her light footsteps. Felise drooled sloppily as she greeted the queen.

“Walk with me, Vsos.” She came up behind him and rested her hand on his back. He directed Felise to sit with a stern stare and heard his mother chuckle. “Silly beast,” she said fondly, patting her head.

“It’s cold outside,” he responded looking straight ahead.

“I don’t care. The fresh air will do you good. I heard that it has stopped raining.” He caught her intense gaze. “You are not eating enough, Vsos.”

The king shrugged. “I am not hungry.”

“I think Felise is eating enough for both of you.” She smiled and scratched the giant animal beneath the soft curls of her chin. She turned and rested her hand in the crook of V’sair’s elbow. Her white hair was threaded with black strands now. She had aged since losing her husband. Lines formed around her iridescent eyes, bracketing her once lush lips, giving her the appearance of a constant frown.

“Tulani would not know you, my son.”

“Doesn’t make a difference, since she won’t come here.”

The portal swooshed open, and they stepped onto the balcony connected to the room. They heard the giant jast follow them, her paws clicking on the wet, tiled floor. Two Quyroo guards stood on either side of them, their impassive faces glued to the horizon. The interminable rain had ceased, but it was still overcast; weak sunlight fought to peek through the clouds.

“You have to allow her time.”

“Time for what?” V’sair answered hotly. “Anything she can do there”—he pointed a long bluish finger down at the forests—“can be done from here.” His eyes blazed with anger.

“She feels she is doing you more good down there”—Reminda gestured to the dark planet—“than here. She is the best ambassador you could have.”

V’sair clicked impatiently with his tongue. “I have
shuttles full of willing Quyroos that desire to be ambassadors. We could unite this planet if she were queen!”

“Yes.” Reminda placed a thoughtful finger next to her temple. “Consider her place, V’sair. You above anyone else should be able to commiserate with her feelings. She is neither Darracian nor Quyroo.”

“She is full-blooded Quyroo!” V’sair shot back, interrupting her.

“True,” Reminda said reasonably, “but taken to live among us at three years of age. She can’t be seen as one of them until she is accepted by them. Tulani understood for this to succeed, she must gain their confidence and then take her place by your side. Vsos, I don’t understand; usually you are the most amiable of creatures.”

“This is harder than I thought.” V’sair pulled her by her hand to walk the parapets, far from the guards. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore. I don’t know if I want to do this.”

“V’sair, this is your destiny,” Reminda told him urgently. “Even Ozre told you that. I…I never expected this to be thrust on you so early. Your father and I still had so much work to do, but”—she shrugged, her eyes glittering with unshed tears—“this is what it is, and we have to make do with what we have.”

“It is a test, but for what I don’t know,” V’sair told her absently. “I just wish Tulani were here with me, Mo’mo. She is my rock.”

“She needs to finish what she has started. Being a priestess is complicated. She must learn how to use her power.”

“Pah!” V’sair clicked his tongue. “If I were not king and she not a daughter of Nost, we could be together. This life you chose for me has become a burden. I wish Dado was here.”

Reminda sighed, eyeing her son sadly. “We did not expect you have to take the throne until you were much older. Your father had plans; he wanted to
teach you many things.”

“I don’t know how to do this. The Quyroos are unhappy, the Darracians are unhappy, I am unhappy. This is hard, Mo’mo. I don’t know how to make them get along.”

“Patience. You have never learned patience.”

V’sair rested his hands on the terrace wall, his face scanning the vast city spread out before him. “First Zayden runs off to slay his dragon, when I need him here. Then Tulani discovers she must learn about her Desa and make the Quyroos love her, before she can commit. What about me?” he demanded, turning to face his mother. “I need their help.”

“Well, at least you have me,” she told him with a smile and a quick shrug.

“Oh aye, I am sorry, Mo’mo. I am being unreasonable.” He looked at her sheepishly, a lock of white hair falling over his blue eyes. “It’s just that…it…”

He looked so young; Reminda’s heart softened. She reached out to push his hair from his eyes, thought better of it, and smiled gently. “Dado is gone. Emmicus as well. I know it’s hard, Vsos, but everybody’s life has been changed. The New Doctrines have shaken Darracian society to its core. You have to give everything time.”

The whole of Darracia had been turned upside down, Reminda thought ruefully. Such a lot of nonsense simply because V’sair had shown them that the Fireblade could be earned and used by all. Darracians were not special, their superiority not guaranteed, and the whole species now had to relearn to fire their blade to the blue of courage and justice, rather than the red of anger and intolerance. Schools had shut down, chanters met for conferences, creating new interpretations and criteria so that all the inhabitants of this planet could share its bounty to live as equals with the same opportunities.

But there was opposition. Many clans stayed away from court, keeping their Darracian sons and
daughters from mixing with the Quyroo who now were finding new positions other than the serving class. Why, just the other day, she had heard that a wealthy merchant had disowned his daughter for marrying a Quyroo communications officer. These new customs were going to take time. She looked at the fine lines of worry on her son’s face. Both she and Drakko had wanted to bring about the changes slowly, not thrust them on her teenage son. And, she wondered angrily, where were the Elements? Why did they topple the old beliefs and then simply go silent? It made no sense.

“Have you asked the Elements for guidance?”

V’sair turned to look at the city again, his eyes distant. He shrugged. “Yes, of course. They never tell you anything.” He added sarcastically, “They wait for you to have the
illumination
.”

“So, did you?” his mother asked.

“Yes, yes, Mother. I understand that we all have to look inside of ourselves to find our strength.”

“And…”

“Well, I’ve done that already,” he added indignantly.

“That’s very nice, but what about Zayden and Tulani?”

V’sair didn’t answer for a moment. He sighed and looked at his mother, his face relaxing. “I know, Mo’mo. Just because I have found myself, I have to allow the others to catch up to me. I didn’t say I have to like it.”

Reminda smiled and squeezed his arm. “I know it feels like forever, but it will really be a very short part of your life, this waiting. What is it, V’sair?” Reminda saw his lips turn down in a thoughtful frown.

“Ozre.”

“Go on.”

“I am concerned. I have not heard from him in months.”

“Perhaps you are not praying hard enough?”

V’sair gave her a sidelong look. “Me? Oh, I pray hard enough.”

“Maybe you are praying for the wrong things?” his mother asked gently.

V’sair didn’t answer, his eyes searching the Desa. The red canopy of trees shielded the Desa floor from prying eyes; he could see nothing through the tangled forest. The wet treetops glittered as if they were dusted with rubies. Still, he watched, wishing he could see Tulani and know that she was ready to join him. His fisted palm absently pounded the balustrade. Felise jumped up, pushing next to him, and from the rear they looked as if they were two friends looking out on the city. V’sair grinned, knowing the jast was watching him; he let himself lean into her strong shoulder. Reminda smiled at his shortened white braid. It would take a while until it grew back. His cousin Pacuto had hacked it off in a fight. It was what marked him as a Darracian royal.