Destiny (34 page)

“They can’t confirm the enemy?”

“No one has been able to confirm Jack, except that the attack originated from inside the central cavern of the dig.”

Coming to a decision, Beth pulled Ryan’s MIC to her lips reaching for the small envelope inside her BDU’s that Doctor Strafford had given her before leaving Washington. “Rear Admiral Wright, this is Agent Kurwoski. By order of the Secretary of Defense, U.S. Strategic Command has furnished our team special dispensation in regards to this operation and Task Force 60.”

“Special dispensation?”

“I believe Agent Kurwoski meant special orders.”

Ripping the envelope open Beth began reading out loud. “The authorization codes for Operation Forward Defense are as follows: Alpha-Tango-Charlie-Zulu-Three-Uniform-November-Niner.” Ignoring the sudden swearing in her headphones Beth continued speaking calmly into the MIC. “Once again, the authorization codes for Operation Forward Defense are Alpha-Tango-Charlie-Zulu-Three-Uniform-November-Niner.”

“Operation Forward Defense?” There was a pregnant pause of silence as Rear Admiral Wright had his people verify the special order’s codes as the pilots studiously avoided looking at them both. Cocking his head to the side Ryan's eyebrows rose questioningly at the small envelope held in her hand. “When did Strafford give you that?”

“We came up with this option when you were working out the travel details in case this turned into a complete clusterfuck. I didn’t want to pull this out unless I had to, but Wright’s refusal left me no choice. We have to know what’s going on down there. If this is another incursion-”

Following her train of thought, Ryan completed her sentence. “We need to know now before it’s too late. It’s not like we have Startüm to bail us out this time …” Ryan’s voice slowly died away as he saw the look of anguish that suddenly cross her face. “Hey there, I didn’t mean anything by that. I know he did what he could for us. I know … I’m sure he’s okay.”

Holding up a palm to shut him up Beth sucked in a ragged breath as she struggled to push down the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her from within. It wasn’t Ryan’s fault. He’d been neck deep in that rollercoaster of horror right along with her. It was just everything that had happened that night. The dread of not knowing if Startüm was dead or alive, the terrible feelings of guilt whenever she thought back to that final battle … Startüm had saved them all.

If they’d only have had a little more time together, maybe she could have … Wiping the tears of frustration away with the back of her hand Beth’s hard eyes held Ryan’s as her soul screamed out in anguish. Whatever it took she would find him. Wordlessly Ryan gripped her shoulder as the crack of static snapped her thoughts back to the present. “Agent Kurwoski, Northern Command has confirmed your authority and Operation Forward Defense. How can Task Force 60 assist your team?”

There was no question that the Rear Admiral was pissed. Ignoring the man’s hostile tone Beth proceeded as if nothing had changed. “If you can direct your Marines to deliver our teams to the entrance of the dig we’ll handle it from there.”

Biting off each word Rear Admiral Wright addressed the Osprey’s head pilot. “Captain Scott, you will deliver your combat teams to Nea Kameni and then report to Major Jensen for further instructions.”

“Lima Charlie, over.”

“USS Abraham Lincoln, over and out.”

As the radio went dead, Beth leaned her head against the steel frame breathing a sigh of relief. For a long moment, the only sound was the roar of the twin engines. Opening her eyes, she suddenly realized everyone was looking at her expectantly. At first, she didn’t understand what they were waiting for when suddenly she stood up straight. Digging out her smartphone, Beth gave the coordinates to the pilots.

“We’ll be on-target in fifteen, Ma’am.”

“Thank you, Captain. Would you have the pilots in the other Osprey inform my team of our ETA?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Please inform them that we will be going in hot.”

“Roger, Ma’am.” As the plane began banking sharply for the new course, Beth followed Ryan back into the cargo hold to gear up.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Location Irlendria / Tathar Cúthalion:

“Pull your scouts back now Dínendal!”

Ignoring Tathar completely, Dínendal pushed past the young shaman calling out orders to his Elven warriors. “Chain the disgusting beasts now!”

Pulling a strand of long blond hair from his face Tathar stalked after the insane scout leader as his temper began to flare. Being one of the youngest shamans of the tribe, he was used to the disdain from the older warriors, even though he had completed the Trial of Na'ii'ees almost a year ago. For the veterans of the Clan, the ones that had fought in the Great War, the trials weren’t enough to prove his place amongst the warriors of the tribe. For them only the trial of battle would attest his worth in their eyes, but no matter what they thought of him, they were going to follow his orders now.

Tathar had promised his clan sister that her charges would be protected until she could return with the Spirit Mother. There was no way he was going to let their arrogance make an oath breaker out of him.

Lranel’s mental voice sounded in Tathar’s head as he felt his spirit sister come up behind him. Silently he gave thanks for her support. When they were this close to one another, the link was so strong that he could almost read Lranel’s thoughts as if they were his own. A silver flash to his right marked Nixus, Lranel’s soulmate, moving into position as the warmth of Anon’s confidence flowed through their link. Now was the time for action.

Immediately Tathar sprang in front of Dínendal. Before the Scout Leader could react to the Wenci’s presence, Anon’s front paw smashed the Elf to the ground at Tathar’s feet. Meeting Dínendal’s enraged face, Tathar’s voice held the promise of violence.

“Call your scouts back now Dínendal!”

“You dare to threaten me, pup? I’ll gut you where you stand.”

Without saying a word, Anon’s six-inch claws sprang from their sheaths. Quicker than the eyes could follow the large paw slammed Dínendal flat on his back as a low growl began rumbling deep within the Wenci’s furry chest. Smiling grimly into the Elf’s fearful eyes, Tathar studied the fresh blood oozing from the Scout Leader’s neck where the deadly claws had broken the skin.

“Call your scouts back now Dínendal or Anon will decide the Áskorun before the Spirit Mother comes. Have I made myself clear?”

Before Dínendal could answer a scream of rage and agony rang out behind Tathar. Spinning around towards the prisoners, the young shaman watched in horror as the scouts began pummeling the small children they’d pulled from the Centaur’s back with the butts of their spears.

Immediately everything fell apart in the flick of a tail. Bellowing in anger the unarmed Minotaurs and Centaur tore into the Wild Elves surrounding the girls as the rest of the scouts rushed forward. Before the prisoners could make it to the children, a bestial roar rang out across the glade freezing everyone in their tracks.

A split second later blood sprayed across Tathar’s faces as the Elves that were pummeling the children were suddenly thrown into the air. The scouts blood curling screams of fear and pain were cut off abruptly as they slammed to a stop near the edge of the clearing. Rising up in their place was a massive armored warrior.

Broken chains clanked where they dangled below the long bloody claws that flexed in rage as the warrior’s glowing yellow eyes menacingly raked across the clearing. Even though the male’s face was horribly battered, the feral ferocity radiating out from the warrior hit Tathar like a physical force as the weight of that gaze settled on him a moment later.

Through his link with Anon, Tathar felt his soulmate’s terror as she instantly recognized the creature standing before them. Throughout the eleven years he’d been spirit-bound to his Wenci sister, this was the first time he’d ever known her to be afraid. Although the meaning in the Wencis’ language was different than the Wild Elf’s, none the less Tathar understood in essence what stood within their midst.

If Anon was correct, the creature was a Werewolf, one of the beasts from the deep forest to the far west whose immense power and ferocity were legendary. Rarely did the monsters leave their territory high in the mountains, but if the old stories held any truth, the Werewolves were extremely protective of their young. A prepared war party might be able to defeat one of the monsters, but not a small scouting patrol.

Tathar had never heard of Werewolves wearing armor like a civilized race, but some psychic premonition deep within his soul warned him that the lives of his people within the glade were at risk if he didn’t stop this insanity. Meeting those ferocious yellow eyes, Tathar held up his open palms in a sign of truce as he called out to the Elven warriors around him.

“Scouts, I command you to sheath your weapons and step back to the perimeter.”

Behind him, Tathar heard Dínendal scream in anger as he sprang to his feet. “Kill them all! I am your leader, not this untested youngling –“ Tathar’s backhand lifted Dínendal off his feet in mid-shriek as the force of the blow flung the Elf to the ground several feet away.

“Áskorun has been called by the Wencis making this a point of Benda Heimild.” Tathar felt Lranel stand next to him giving her physical support as his eyes swept the scouts around them. “As shamans of the Clan, we have the right of predominance.”

Unflinchingly Tathar met the dark looks from his clan mates. “You will not engage further unless I command it.” Pausing for emphasis Tathar addressed the Elves facing off with the captives. “Is there any further questions assistant scout leader Aliya?”

Tathar could see the distress warring in Aliya’s eyes as she took in the injured Elves scattered around the clearing being helped by her comrades after the brief fight. “You’re going to protect these beasts even after they attacked our people?”

Before he could respond Tathar heard Anon’s thoughts reverberate in his head as his soulmate broadcasted her thoughts around the glade.

Ignoring the angry glares Anon’s mind-speak continued without remorse.

Urgently Tathar focused his thoughts trying to get Anon to shut up. It wasn’t that he was surprised at his soulmate’s words. The Wencis’ protectiveness of their young was well known throughout the Clan. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the best time for that discussion.

“Anon, that’s not helping.” Raising his voice in command Tathar hurriedly overrode his soulmate’s mind-speak. “Sheath your weapons and withdraw to the perimeter now!”

Holding his eyes for a second longer, Aliya finally spat in disgust. If she had caught the exchange between him and Anon, she ignored it. Turning away, she began ordering her scouts back when she froze as a shriek of rage rang out behind Tathar.

Instantly pain exploded in Tathar’s chest as he suddenly lost control of his body. He could taste blood in his mouth as everything seemed to tilt. A second later the ground slammed into his face. In his peripheral vision, Tathar could see Lranel collapsed next to him unmoving with a stunned look on her face. On the opposite side, he felt Anon’s shock as she fell mewling in agony next to him.

Leather boots strode past Tathar’s face before Dínendal’s bloody hands came into view. The Scout Leader was screaming and waving his arms, but Tathar couldn’t make out what was being said as darkness washed over him.

***

Location Irlendria / Enelya Tasartir:

Enelya struggled to hold on to Argus’ sleek coat as he raced through the trees heading back to their companions. She felt his exhaustion radiating through her limbs as if it were her own body being pushed past its limits, but still Argus drove himself relentlessly onwards. Following close behind was Enelya’s mother riding astride the silvery-black coated Eila. With her gray-streaked dreadlocks streaming behind her in the wind, mother looked like a shaman half her age. If not for the hard-faced Blood Guards surrounding her in a protective ring an outside observer would have never guessed she was Arien Tasartir, the Clan’s Spirit Mother.

Slightly ahead of her mother rode the serious faced Ohorn sitting atop a sable coated Wenci named Unar as his piercing blue eyes scanned the growing shadows missing nothing. Although not soulmated to one another like shamans, every Wenci and Elf that took up the mantle of the Blood Guard were bound to one another as close as packmates. They served for life protecting the Clan’s Spirit Mother.

Looking ahead once more, Enelya laid her body against Argus’ neck whispering encouragements as her thoughts drifted back to their meeting with her mother. When Enelya had first entered the wigwam where mother was meeting with the Tribe’s Council of Elders, she hadn’t needed to say a word. One look at her face and all conversation stopped around the tent. Even though she knew mother would demand to know everything, there simply wasn’t time to go over their entire plight, so Enelya did the only thing she could think to do. Standing up straight, she addressed her mother formally.

“Spirit Mother, I require your immediate presence to stop an impending disaster threatening the future of the Clan.”

Her mother’s head had snapped back at the formal address. Concern for her daughter’s wellbeing instantly formed into an impenetrable mask as she considered the words carefully. There was no question in Enelya’s mind just how bad she and Argus must have looked in her eyes. Damaged leathers without any sign of obvious injury, furs and coat encrusted with dried blood and the overall stench of death that clung to them like a second skin as they both swayed on their feet from exhaustion ready to collapse.

Enelya was sure mother was going to demand an explanation, but the slight stiffening of her body told her that mother was in the middle of a discussion with her Wenci counterpart. For a long moment, mother held Eila’s eyes from across the room as they privately argued. When the silvery-gray Wenci rose to her haunches, Enelya felt Argus’ anxiety through their link, but his eyes never left his Pack Leader’s as her long claws dug deep into the pile of skins beneath her paws. Enelya knew he was catching grief for the terse response she’d given to mother, but they’d both agreed ahead of time that this was the only way. Just when Enelya was about to give up any hope that they’d get moving quickly, her mother came to a decision. Striding across the wigwam mother began calling out orders to the Elves and Wencis around them as Eila sprang to her side. Within moments, they were underway.

Enelya’s thoughts were ripped back to the present as Argus sprang out onto the main trail. For an instant he lost control of his headlong flight as a bestial howl of rage shattered the silence around them. Scrabbling for traction Argus bounced off the nearest tree before getting his paws under him once again as the rest of the party caught up with them looking around warily. The resonant metallic sounds of tinnearlian blades leaving their sheaths rang out around them as the Blood Guards drew their long curved knives at a signal from Ohorn.

Ignoring the questioning looks Enelya urged Argus down the trail towards where the sounds had come from. As they rounded the bend in the trail, Enelya suddenly screeched in anger as she saw the bodies of Tathar and Lranel lying on the ground bleeding from their backs. To either side of them laid the unmoving forms of Anon and Nixus, their bodies’ twisted and rigid from the agony of their soulmates’ death. Enraged Enelya scanned the clearing taking in the scene before her in an instant.

Warily watching the rest of the scouts inside the perimeter of the circle were Terus and his Wenci hunters stalking back and forth, ears laid dangerously flat against their skulls, long tails swishing back and forth as they agitatedly guarded her companions at the center of the glade. A group of injured were being cared for near the edge of the forest, while the Rangers huddled together nearby watching her approach with sullen apprehension.

Although a part of her mind peripherally noted Nessa and the injured Minotaurs standing guard over Lúthien, her focus was drawn to the enraged bloody Paladin hunched protectively over the two young girls lying unconscious at his feet. Thick, broken, ironidium chain links hung from his wrists while feverish yellow glowing eyes watched her approach. Even from this distance, she could see he was ready to collapse. Sliding off Argus’ back, Enelya came to a stop next to Aliya.

“What in Meliki’s name is going on here?” Seeing the troubled looks of the scouts, she addressed Aliya directly. “What happened to Tathar and Lranel and why were my companions chained?”

Not meeting her gaze, Aliya’s grief-laden voice spoke hesitantly. “It was Dínendal. He killed them after commanding your companions to be bound.” Before she could say more, Terus stalked forward cutting her off.

Flinching at the accusation Aliya slowly met Enelya’s eyes. “The children attacked our people first. My warriors were only defending themselves-.”

A deep growl from Terus cut Aliya off in midsentence.

Meeting Aliya’s eyes she saw her friend turn away in shame from the truth of the Wenci’s accusations. Confused she focused on Terus’ fur covered face. “How did they get past your hunters in the first place?”