Ethon (The Other Worlds Series Book 2) (21 page)

“To California,” he smirked.

13

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The basement of the library gave way to a sterile hallway. Fluorescent lights were embedded into a white panel ceiling. White tiles with pale gray grout made up the floor. The smooth walls were painted a pallid white color. All the white made Olinia’s skin crawl. It was like a badly designed hospital meant to make invalids uncomfortable.

Beside her, Hillary was gawking. “What gift is this? Where are we?”

“Are we in some mental institution?” Will stepped up to Olinia’s left.

As if to offer a clue to his question, a tall, thin woman with long red hair slicked back into a ponytail rounded the corner at the far end of the hallway and began right at them. She was dressed in a pair of maroon scrubs and a long, white doctor’s coat. The coat hung open around her, and she had her hands stuffed into its pockets. Some sort of identification card was dangling from her neck on a bright red lanyard. It bounced a little against her chest as she walked, her gaze straight ahead.

Hillary blinked. “Sasha?”

“You know her?” Will frowned.

“Yeah,” Hillary waved a hand in greeting.

Sasha didn’t turn. Instead, she continued heading right at Hillary, completely oblivious. Olinia quickly reached out and yanked Hillary out of Sasha’s path before they could collide. Olinia wasn’t too certain of the outcome should they actually touch and wasn’t really in the mood to find out.

“You’re not really here. You’re just experiencing something that has already happened,” Olinia explained to Hillary.

“You mean we’re in the past?”

“Basically,” Olinia replied.

“How do you know her?” Will’s gaze was following Sasha’s back.

 “She went to DS with me. She graduated at the end of my freshman year.” Hillary looked at Olinia. “I think we’re in the DS labs.”

“Where?” Olinia raised her eyebrows.

Hillary turned to Sasha. “We should follow her.”

Olinia exchanged a quick glance with Will and then followed after Hillary. Sasha had just rounded a corner at the end of the hallway. As Olinia did the same, she noticed that the new hallway was almost identical to the one she’d just left, excluding a couple sporadic white doors with gray, square security identification boxes, located to the right of the doorknobs. Olinia watched as Sasha paused at the nearest door, lifting her hand to the security box.

After a moment, the box flashed a bright blue and the sound of the door unlocking filled the hall. Sasha pushed her weight against the door and entered the room within. Before the door had the chance to shut though, Hillary slipped into the opening, holding it ajar for Will and Olinia to pass through as well.

Inside was some sort of lab with basically the same interior design as the hallway. The only real differences were the stainless steel tables and many glass test tubes arranged on the tops of the tables, filled with translucent liquid in varying shades of yellow and red. In one corner of the room, two large computer monitors sat with a skinny Asian man – appearing to be in his thirties – inputting data into a spreadsheet on one screen. The other display showed an array of multi-colored strands of what Olinia assumed was DNA. Several other men and women of different nationalities clustered around the tables, all appearing to be younger than forty. Most looked like they were in their early twenties. All were dressed the same as Sasha.

Hillary gasped. “That’s the Green Strand.”

“Green Strand?” Olinia strained to see what Hillary was pointing at.

“Yeah, my DS instructor has been teaching us about it.” Hillary moved over to the monitors, inspecting the one with the DNA.

Will joined Hillary. “What’s the Green Strand?”

She brushed her fingers over the screen. “This is. It’s the sign of the gifted.”

“What do you mean?” Olinia frowned.

Hillary turned. “The genetic structure of the gifted is significantly unique than that of the ungifted. It’s like we’re a completely different breed than the Normals. DS has named the alteration in our DNA as ‘Green Strand.’ It’s one way they can know if we’re really gifted.”

Olinia blinked. Although the concept of Deoxyribonucleic Acid, or DNA, was something new to her when she arrived in Ethon, genetic structure was not. In the Other Worlds, it was widely known that you looked the way you did because you had inherited the mystical “genes” of your parents. But that was really all anyone knew there. Genes were not explained further than that. In truth, Olinia wasn’t exactly sure where the knowledge of genes in her realm even spouted from. As for the gifted being a separate breed, though, she’d always been aware of that. There were three major breeds in the Other Worlds: Craeles, Saerds, and Eves.

“Are you serious?” Will leaned in closer to the monitor. “Has DS really been able to isolate the genetic deviations of the gifted into a single strand of DNA?”

Olinia stared at Will, surprised. Hillary only nodded. “It’s basically how they’re able to control us.”

“Control you how?” Olinia was reminded of their earlier conversation. “Do you not have the Green Strand? Is that why you’re not limited?”

“No, I have the Green Strand.” She shook her head. “My gift just lets me trick the Bead.”

“Bead?” Will repeated.

“What are they working on in this room?”

Olinia’s entire body stiffened. That voice was all too familiar. Will spun around, startling Hillary. Olinia didn’t need to look. Even though it was no longer as airy as it had once been, the voice still held the same underlying tones, and it had just spoken in Eveon.

“They are refining the strength of our Drainers,” a deeper voice answered back in Eveon.

Now Olinia whirled. Drainers were a Kendren tool used in the Other Worlds,
not
Ethon. Drainers were meant to weaken those with Eveon blood in battle with the Kendrens. As far as Olinia knew, Dagon had never touched them. The Kendrens were dead, though, as was Dagon supposedly. Who would benefit from the Drainers now?

Just as Olinia had expected, Aeorin stood in the middle of the room, observing the work around her. She was dressed in a pair of dark purple stilettos, a gray pencil skirt, and a loose blouse the same shade of her shoes, tucked into her skirt. She was practically the only source of color in the room. Olinia had not previously thought her to be a tall woman, but next to her short, stocky companion she was very imposing. The little man was pale, bald, and attired the same as the workers.

“What’s wrong?” Hillary asked in Saerdian.

“Excellent.” Aeorin grinned. “Any progress toward weakening a Wend?”

The bald man shook his head. “Without a sample of blood, we cannot be certain if our Drainers will accomplish what we want.”

Aeorin pursed her lips. “Well, we shall simply have to find you a blood sample. I should not need to remind you how important this work is. The Wends are all that stand in the king’s way to the Other Worlds.”

“I understand, your highness.”

All at once, a wall of exhaustion hit Olinia like a truck of bricks. She stumbled backwards, reaching out blindly behind her in an attempt to find something to lean against.

Will was suddenly at her side, holding her up on her feet. Olinia gazed up at him hazily, struggling to focus on his face. It was all too tempting to close her eyes and give into the pressing urge to sleep.

“What’s going on?” Hillary’s frightened voice drifted to Olinia as if from somewhere far away. “What’s wrong with her?”

“It’s time to go,” Will told her. “Grab onto her arm.”

Olinia felt a hand wrap around her right bicep as Will lifted her left arm in front of her. The lab slowly dissolved into the library’s basement once again. Will lowered her onto a stuffed chair, eyeing her carefully.

Just as she released herself from the conscious world, she heard someone screaming her name inside her head. It sounded like Legann.

:  :  :  :  :

A splintering migraine was the first sensation Legann woke to, followed closely by a strong craving for peanut butter M&Ms. His mouth felt pasty and his stomach empty. Not necessarily the best wakeup scenario. Releasing a groan, Legann opened his eyes to a white curtain. Somewhat startled, he quickly scanned the remainder of his surroundings. Unfortunately, the images his eyes were greeted with didn’t shed any light on his location.

Well, he was definitely in a hospital bed, but he had no memory of climbing into it. Nor did he remember being strapped to it. Yet, there he was – on his back with his wrists and feet secured to the bed by thick black strips with Velcro as the bond. What kind of “sick” was he that the hospital had to restrain him?

Legann pulled himself up slowly to a makeshift sitting position, inspecting his shackles. He noticed a clasp over his left index finger with a wire shooting out of it, and an IV in his left forearm that he had missed earlier. The clasp’s wire led to a silent monitor on the side of the bed. He guessed by the rhythmic pattern on its screen that it was meant to gauge his heart rate. As for the IV, he had no idea what the hospital was feeding into him. He hoped it had something in it to take away the pounding in his skull.

He didn’t like being a prisoner to his bed. It was also a little weird that for being in a hospital he didn’t seem to have any injuries and was wearing his regular clothes, complete with shoes. Shouldn’t he be in an ugly open-backed gown if he were a patient? He was confused as to why he was there. Other than his headache, he felt fine.

With a grunt, Legann yanked at his left hand, testing how tightly he was bound. The bed rattled a little, but his hand didn’t even budge. He tried again and then again. Still no change. The straps were far stronger than he had anticipated.

He could see his heart rate increase on the monitor as he struggled to get free. His mind began to race with questions. Who would want him a captive? Where was his sister? Was she aware of his hospitalization? If so, why wasn’t she with him?

Just then, a noise resembling air released from a pressurized valve – like when he would take off the cap to a bike wheel – sounded from behind his bed. Legann whirled in time to glimpse a clear liquid inch its way down a tube leading to where the IV bags dripped into his actual IV. An uneasy feeling filled his insides. What drug was this?

The answer to that came fairly quickly. Almost immediately, he began to feel drowsy. The drug was meant to put him back to sleep. His increased heart rate must have caused some machine to release the sedative.

Perfect,
Legann grumbled to himself, falling backwards onto the bed, no longer able to sit up. Right before he gave into the drug, his mind shouted out to his sister.
Olinia!

He wasn’t awake long enough to hear a reply.

:  :  :  :  :

Archrin held Tiara against him, lightly stroking her arm with one hand as she slept. Her scent wafted up to him, and, like always, it left him intoxicated like a man drunken from wine. She really had no idea how good she smelled to him, but that was probably for the best.

He sighed and glanced down at the landscape far below him. He was in the window seat of his row with Tiara to his left beside the middle aisle. Across from him, Sazx sat facing Archrin and Tiara, an empty seat to his right. His head was tipped back against his chair and his eyes were shut. Archrin knew better than to assume Sazx was asleep, though. No, Sazx was wide awake, most likely analyzing the circumstances of how they managed to be captured and what could be learned from their mistakes. He was undoubtedly calculating their chances of survival. It was the curse of the soldier. He and Archrin would never be naïve enough to think that everything would work out for the best. Experience had taught them otherwise.

How odd it was to be with the former Nagreth Captain. As a Kendren soldier, Archrin had heard of Thyrnion’s death and Sazx’s rise in status. However, his position in the Kendren army would never have placed him within the same circles as Dagon’s second in command, or any Nagreth for that matter. His troop had been assigned to strictly Saerdian worlds. He had not been part of those who fought alongside Nagreth in the overthrowing of mixed breed worlds. It was something he had been thankful for. Nagreth had always seemed like half-dead creatures with their gray skin and steel eyes.

Tiara groaned softly in her sleep. Archrin bent and kissed the top of her head, glancing around the small cabin once more. The interior was mostly a beige color, except for the cherry wood trimmings and flatscreen television mounted to one wall. There were two rows of eight seats, upholstered in pale leather that matched the beige theme. The rows sat back to back, with a walkway running down the middle of the plane, splitting them into four seats on either side. One of the men who had brought the Other Worlders aboard was reclining in the row behind Archrin and sleeping with his large gun in hand.

From what Archrin had seen of airplanes during his Ethon stay, he knew that this was not a normal aircraft. Sazx had confirmed his suspicions when he mentioned earlier that they were on a private jet. Who owned the jet, though, was still in question. It was doubtful that Aeorin, a fellow Other Worlder, could possess her own airplane. But then again, it was just as unbelievable to be able to fly at all, and yet here he was.