The Kallanon Scales (32 page)

They took it
well away, Torrullin mapping the route, untraceable on screens
below.

The mastermind
tracked it, however, the one behind the time manipulation. A
screeching keen filled the air, penetrated the hull, causing the
Xenians to drop to the floor, covering their ears.

It continued
for long minutes, but was incapable of arresting their getaway. The
sound brimmed with debilitating malevolence.

Torrullin
broke from the lift, telling Vannis and Taranis to hold her, and
delved into time. He found for them the speed they needed and they
vanished to the mind on Ceta.

All was
quiet.

Vannis broke
from Taranis and told the crew to power up. They hastened to obey
and seconds later a welcome, steady hum, a gentle shiver passed
through everything and everyone, and the craft was its own
master.

Taranis
blinked and released the final hold.

Torrullin sped
time for a minute longer and then he released.

Matt loosed a
yell of triumph.

His crew
stared at him, shaking and pale.

Agen put it
into words, “Never again. Please.”

“Turn back,”
Torrullin said after half an hour.

“Why? We’ll be
on their screens within a hundred thousand miles,” Matt said.

“We need to
know who or what is on Ceta.”

Vannis nodded.
“Agreed.”

“Are you
insane?” Cruper said.

Matt appealed
to Taranis. “Surely not?”

Taranis
shrugged. “Learn something now, young man, we are not a democracy.
Besides, I happen to agree. Chances are, this force snatched my
grandsons. I would put a label to it.”

Matt murmured,
“Cruper, set course for Ceta.” He silenced the dark, mutinous looks
and sat in his chair to study the screens, fingers flying as he
piloted the vessel through the turnaround.

Torrullin
said, “Three revolutions maximum.”

Matt took them
in fast. Agen on weapons hovered hands over a separate console,
concentration intense. Visors were up, the planet rushed up to meet
them.

The traveller
was faster than Matt believed possible for a cargo vessel of this
size and weight, but would not outrun military transports. He hoped
he garnered sufficient speed to escape them.

They discerned
large landmasses and great oceans before the view narrowed to
fields and rivers, then towns and highways. Ceta was a developed
world, rich in minerals. Massive industry had grown alongside
massive mining conglomerates. Those were situated far from the
spaceport on Graven.

“Two minutes,”
Santori called out.

The four
sorcerers separated, each to a point of the compass, their backs to
each other. Torrullin faced the view-screen. The crew noted the
deliberated placing, well accustomed to direction and navigation,
but ignored it to concentrate on their tasks.

An alarm
sounded, rapidly muted, as ground radar picked them out, a tiny
blip racing across countless screens. Agen watched for the
tell-tale sign of a missile launch or an attacking craft.

The same
malevolence entered the vessel.

Vannis hissed
through clenched teeth.

“Passing
over,” Santori intoned and gradually the evil influence
dissipated.

“It’s not a
singular mind,” Taranis murmured. “A collective.”

“Either Murs
or Kallanon,” Torrullin muttered. “They want me.”

“Don’t even
think it,” Taranis snapped.

“Two minutes,”
Matt said.

“Vannis, you
and I delve into that melded psyche and retreat instantly,”
Torrullin said.

The four again
took up the compass points and they whizzed over the port, and fear
set in anew. A transport fired a shot across their bow and the
comm. stuttered with commands from the ground, and then they were
beyond. Matt coaxed every ounce of speed out of the craft and
managed to leave the transport wallowing in his wake.

Torrullin and
Vannis fell to their knees.

“Take us home,
Matt,” Taranis commanded. “We are done here.”

The vessel
climbed the vacuum and sped away.

“Definitely
Murs,” Vannis said minutes later.

“A large
force,” Torrullin added.

“They do want
you. Therefore the divide and conquer strategy.”

Torrullin
inclined his head.

“Matt! How are
we doing?” Taranis called out.

“Off their
long-range. They launched three chasers, but we lost them. Five
minutes and we can head towards Valaris.”

“Out wide,
Matt.”

The Xenian
grinned. “Don’t worry, no other port will pick us up.”

“Home,” Vannis
sighed.

“Time to fight
back.” The Enchanter was coldly furious.

Chapter
28

What was out
there? Scary, gigantic, awesome and lonely space!

~ Taranis

Tower of
Stairs

T
orrullin watched the action around
the ship and wished he could speak the words of enchantment to
hasten it to completion.

The Xenian
crew and Camot’s soldiers fitted the hold. Sometimes magic was not
sufficient; to erect partitions out of the ether might not survive
the approaching vacuum.

His boys were missing. Every hour parted from them killed his
sanity. Dragons took his boys from him, manipulated time to do so
and dumped them into alternate realities. Coercion into the Zone
did not explain it. There was something more, and the questions
added to his already tenuous hold to this
normality
.

He lifted his
gaze from the activity below and tracked along the tiers. Caballa
moved around the circle heading to him.

A breath
later, he alighted before her.

“You have
something to say, Caballa.”

A shoulder
lifted. “You are in a mood.”

“Tristamil and
Tymall, missing in action, my wife swerving the universe …”

She held a
finger aloft. “It is about Saska.”

He did not
want to talk about Saska.

“Definitely in
a mood,” she muttered. She raised her face to the sky. “I think it
is blue today. A walk in the snow will not be too cold.”

He bit back a
retort. “Shall I take us?”

She inclined
her head and held her hand out. He transported them onto the level
area south of the amphitheatre. It was not that cold. He took
breaths to clear his mind and was glad he came.

“Speak.”

“I have seen
Saska in a vision.”

“Where is
she?” he blurted out.

“I am now
tweaking the path.”

“Bugger
destiny, Caballa. If you know where she is …”

“Not with
precision. She is different, she is learning a new … I cannot say
more.”

“Then why
speak?”

“You need to know
this
. She is in the Forbidden
Zone.”

“
Where
?”

Caballa
reached out to lay a hand on his arm, but he moved beyond her
reach. She sighed and her arm dropped. “Or will be when you get
there. I have no clear sense of timing. She will not be the Saska
you know, but you will not be the Torrullin she knew when she left.
My Lord, it won’t be an easy meeting. You head for the Zone because
family and friends were murdered, because you believe Valleur need
succour, because you have seen Dragons in your future and know they
will be there, waiting. All this is beyond the sense of urgency
instilled by a map and a verse that may or may not be
prophecy.”

She paced away. “Given that, it is expected of you to go in
with intent, to find the truth. You expect it of yourself. You
believe when you are done you will be freed to find Saska, but she
is
there
, and
that changes everything for you.”

“How?”

“Your focus is
altered.”

“You chose to
tweak. Why?”

Caballa said
quietly, “You will need her to finish it.”

Silence.

“I dare not
say more. You are now aware your wife is where you least expected
to find her and she is there because …” Caballa lapsed into silence
as well.

He worked the
nuances, and asked, “Is Saska the real mission, Caballa?”

Sightless eyes
bored into his. “She may be.”

He stared into
nothingness, wordless, and eventually she left him to his
thoughts.

Elsewhere

Saska gazed
over the dry plateau spread akin to challenge before her.

This would be
the testing of resolve and skill.

It was also a
testing of life, the concept and the precious tenacity of it.

She was
ready.

Orlan taught
her well, there was no place for doubts now.

She closed her
eyes and reached for the well that was life in every living thing,
be it plant, animal or sentient. Nurtured and strengthened over
weeks, her well vibrated with purpose, and she used it now.

Saska opened
her eyes and allowed it to flow.

The hope for
life, the challenge of restoring what was lost to its rightful
place in the grand scheme, rewarded her. It was a tiny incentive at
first, but it grew swiftly, until she cried for joy.

A shoot shoved
through the barren rock at her feet.

Then another
beyond it.

In moments, sprouts carpeted the desert. Dun transformed into
emerald. The
sound
of leaves unfurling, and millions perfectly formed followed.
The most striking sound she ever heard. Her entire being
shivered.

Minutes after,
saplings thrust heavenward. Trees!

A bird
chirruped, and an instant after a host of tiny, bright-winged
creatures flitted in patterns over the renewing desert.

“Orlan!” Saska
breathed. “It is magical!” She turned to the old woman at her side
to find her bowed and kneeled on the greening earth. “Orlan?”

Wise and tired
eyes regarded her. “Saska, you are worthy. My time is now
over.”

Saska kneeled.
“You have so much to teach me. I have so much to learn.”

“This duty
must be passed on before all hope is forever lost. I almost
surrendered to hopelessness and then you came, bright and eager and
filled with every promise. This is how it is for us. One day you
will understand. Go in peace.”

The old woman
sighed again and her form distorted.

“Your turn,
Saska.”

Orlan was
gone.

Tears of joy.
Tears of sadness.

Saska rose and
viewed the unfolding magic through blurred eyes. An ancient, dead
world was a new, viable habitat for plants and animals. One day
sentience would return, and the promise of life and hope would
continue into the future. That was the duty she was called to.

It started to
rain then. Swiftly, cracked riverbeds became again flowing veins
and dusty bowls filled to become lakes.

Saska lifted
her face to the heavens and allowed the rain to cleanse her.

By the
Scales!

A Dragon’s
astonishment

Another
Realm

I
ridescent, strong, with huge
taloned hind legs, clawed forelegs and powerful tails, breathing
fire, they were Dragons.

Evolving
leathery wings, they mastered flight before they mastered speech.
As flying Dragons they were unstoppable, but with speech and
intellect they were conquering royalty.

They were
highly territorial, but their realm was limitless.

Down the
evolutionary passages, mates to the royal Dragons drew breath. The
females were as dazzling and as powerful, and could fly from birth,
while a male’s wings developed with maturity. This bred envy and
distrust, which led to the enslavement of the Dragonnes, female of
the species.

As time moved
on, territories once believed sufficiently large for co-existence
shrank with every male born. A Dragon, after all, was as nothing if
he was not king of his domain. Brothers sparked the first skirmish,
and others noticed one brother gained what the other lost in death.
Further clashes erupted then, which escalated into numerous battles
and eventually resulted in war.

Greed overcame
reason.

The Dragonnes
advocated peace, but no one listened. A Dragon would be eternally
ridiculed for harking to a female.

War became
wars and there seemed to be no end in sight.

The Dragonnes,
ignored while the males fought each other, rose up as a fighting
force, went to war in the interest of peace, and were victorious.
The Dragonnes assumed power and engendered a sensible hierarchy.
The Queen would possess no territory; she would oversee the welfare
of all. The males became the enslaved, although that was a state of
mind, for the Dragonnes treated them with respect.