Eloquent Tales & Blues

“Are the outer moons within sensor range yet?” Beatrix asked. With a sigh, Lora turned her chair away from her console and buried her face in her hands. “We’ll call you when we arrive at the gas giant.” Beatrix’s glower hardened as she kicked the doorframe. “We don’t have to reach the planet before I scan its satellites.” Zander rested his head in his hand. “You’ll be able to inspect all the moons soon. Can’t you just wait till we get there?” Beatrix walked into the cockpit and claimed the last station. “You’ve kept me out long enough. All the equipment is here.” Lora adjusted her controls before flicking the display. Leaning back, she dropped her head into her hands. “Whatever, Beatrix. Why are we scanning these moons?” “After what destroyed Laria, the triumvirs refuse to anchor us to one world,” Sarra said. Lora twirled in her chair, sighing and shaking her head. “What does that have to do with anything?” “Previously, the Federation would only settle a single planet in a system.” Zander grabbed his canteen and took a sip. “It didn’t care if there were multiple planets that might support a colony.” “But why are we wasting our time with the satellites?” With a smirk, Sarra tapped Zander’s shoulder. “Does it matter?” He capped the canteen and offered it to her. “Not when the triumvirs tasked us with scanning anyplace that might sustain life.” Lora’s eyes closed as her head fell back. “But the moons…” Beatrix activated the console. “Those can support an atmosphere. And we know nothing about what’s already there.” Her fingers worked the dials while she hunched over the display. With a sigh, she glanced over her shoulder. “That said, three of them aren’t large enough for the purpose.” Lora gripped her station, stopping herself. Her head whipped towards Beatrix as a smile grew. “Can we leave?” Sarra tsked at the pilot. “Not yet, Lora. Four more satellites orbit Aurora Three.” Lora slammed her hand to her forehead, muttering, “Aurora Three?” “Don’t you like the name?” Zander asked. Lora’s face scrunched as she leaned toward him. “It’s a little lazy.” “I think Olyver chose the names,” Beatrix said, adjusting her console. “Can you alter our heading?” “Why?” “Based on the preliminary scans we took upon arrival,” Beatrix said as she transferred the adjusted bearing to Lora’s display...

Jarvis shouldered Cecile’s laboratory door open and entered. “What are you doing?” “I’m twiddling my thumbs while the devastating horde amasses for its latest assault.” “Your sarcasm doesn’t help.” “Don’t you have other things to deal with besides bothering me?” Cecile peered over the table, fire sharpening her stare. She cocked her head, leaving one narrowed eye visible. “Like dealing with the influx of our newest allies?” Jarvis ground his teeth and drove his fist into the metallic doorframe. He drew several breaths and flexed his reddened fingers until they steadied. “Cecile, I require your cooperation, not your flippant attitude.” “I’m busy trying to find other ways of defending this outpost.” Cecile pressed both hands against her temples and clenched her teeth around a scream. When she stood, she rested her palms on the counter, and her fingertips started tapping a soothing rhythm. She gestured at the half-finished experiments scattered throughout her lab and pressed both fists into the counter. Seconds later, her knuckles cracked through the silent laboratory. “I doubt the plasma cannons we cobbled together will be sufficient.” “I seem to remember you crafting those with relative ease,” Jarvis said, crossing his arms. Cecile dropped her head as she gripped the edge of the counter. As her fingers turned white, she bit her lip, letting the silence build between them. After several tense heartbeats, a false smile wormed its way onto her face. “You shouldn’t mistake how quickly we finished for how difficult the work was. It only looked simple from outside. My crew and I toiled for days to finish every one of those contraptions.” “Point taken,” Jarvis said as he crossed to her worktable. “You’re right. Against the flying cavalry, those plasma cannons won’t be sufficient.” Plucking a beaker from a nearby counter, Cecile threw it at him. Jarvis leaned back, letting the glass sail past him to shatter against the far wall. When the final shard settled, he rubbed his chin. “That wasn’t called for.” Cecile rounded her workstation and jabbed Jarvis in the chest. “What more do you want?” “We need to be able to negate their aerial advantage.” Jarvis caught her wrist and lowered it. “We can’t continue fighting while their monsters control the skies above us.” With a series of grunts, Cecile’s eyes narrowed as she ripped her hand from his grasp. When her string of protests died away, she turned and slammed her fist on the tabletop. Cecile shut her eyes, easing tension from her shoulders. She released a sigh as she pulled herself onto the table, crossing her legs. “Did you come down to push me to work even faster? Or do you have an impossibility already in mind?” “We need to combat those monsters’ aerial support on an even footing.” “Oh, is that all you’re asking me to accomplish?” Cecile groaned as she slid to the floor. She rounded the table, flinging open a series of cabinet doors. She lifted several models and, after a brief examination, she either returned them or tossed them over her shoulder as she dove for the next one. After searching the cabinets, Cecile dropped to the drawers and rifled through their contents and papers. After ransacking the entire lab, she planted both hands on her hips. “What are you looking for?” “It should’ve been there,” she said through clenched teeth. She rose and rushed across the laboratory to rifle through several small piles. With a squeal of joy, she pulled a pair of devices from the mess, brandishing them as she hurried back to Jarvis...

As the first raindrop struck her cheek, Halwen flinched and yanked her foot from the rickety bridge. The forest roared as the wind whipped past, carving furrows in the water’s surface. The rippling water hinted at hidden life in the depths clinging to secrets best forgotten. She withdrew a small book from her bag and read the initial lines. If you desire answers that no soul can provide, there’s a single option. Tread where no soul dares and awaken the sleeper in the swamp. With a sigh, she returned the book and looked past the bridge. Halwen studied the dull green sky behind the treetops, the result of something alien casting the world in an unnatural haze. Pulses of intense light ripped through the clouds overhead, though no sound reached her ears. Beneath the alien light, the crooked cottage slouched against the trees beyond the far side of the water. Halwen’s hand hovered near her chest, as if stilling her breath might quiet thoughts louder than the rain. The structure was half swallowed by moss and forgotten by time. Its warped tiles glistened with the storm’s touch while the windows flickered with light. When she put her foot on the bridge, the rope snarled and the wood whined as her boot settled upon it. Beneath her weight, the plank sagged as if asking a vital question. Are you sure you want to cross? Halwen pulled her cloak about her shoulder as she released her breath and stepped onto the bridge. Another gust tore through the swamp as more rain splashed against her face. Branches creaked like ancient bones as death and decay overwhelmed her in time with a clap of thunder. Despite the rain intensifying, Halwen forced herself onward. By the time she reached the halfway point, she paused and peered over the railing. As she studied the ripples from the rain, the bridge moaned like a giant straining to keep its burden aloft. The rope rails strained, half-severed in places. Below, the black swamp water stirred lazily, reflecting the leaning cottage at the bridge’s end. Her tongue ran over dry lips. One hand gathered her hair, the other dropped to the hilt at her side. A barely held breath preceded her single backward glance. Then, without another thought, she walked forward, ignoring the downpour and the moss-slicked planks. When her foot touched the distant shore, she ran to the building and marched up the stairs. The door hung open as if it had been expecting her arrival. She peered through the opening, studying the contents. In the dim light, a kettle perched on the hearth’s fire. Beyond the touch of courtesy, vines curled up along the walls, racing toward the ceiling. Across from the hearth there was a bed of twisted reeds, with a slumbering figure resting upon it. This strange figure was neither young nor old, just still. The hands folded upon the figure’s chest, with dried hair as vibrant as river grass. The individual’s breath came slow and steady, barely lifting the blanket that clung to the body. Halwen rose and wrapped her fingers around the door. As she was about to open it, she released the wooden slab when she saw the creature standing vigil over the figure, a sheep. Its faintly glowing eyes stared through her, while the wool felt like an undulating fog. It didn’t bleat or back away. It simply stared. Halwen held its gaze for what felt like an eternity. She licked her lips as she opened the door and stepped inside. “I need answers. I was told the sleeper knows all.” Silence answered her question. After several seconds, the sheep blinked in unison with the sleeper’s inhalation. The movement was subtle, but powerful. Like the world taking notice. A harsh voice filled the cabin as the still figure opened pale eyes...

Amid the dwarven hall’s merriment, two mighty tankards, brimming with sweet brew, were shoved in front of Jarvis and Fenton. Fenton’s slender fingers snapped around the smooth wooden handle without hesitation, but Jarvis pushed his own stein away as a low groan escaped from his throat. As laughter boomed throughout the hall, Ferrek downed the last of his ale. With a belch, the dwarf slammed the empty mug on the table as his mouth curled into a devilish grin. “Bring me another!” With trembling fingers, Jarvis slid his drink toward his guide. “Here’s a fresh one for you.” The dwarven king leaned forward, placing a thick finger against Jarvis’s tankard as his lips drew to a thin line. With a gentle push, the stein reversed its course, stopping just in front of the human leader. His thick finger tapped the stein’s rim while Gilras’s eyes darkened. “It’s impolite to refuse a drink offered freely.” “I wasn’t trying to offend.” Gilras cleared his throat with a hearty growl. “The only excuse not to partake is that something is wrong with what’s been given.” Fenton’s lips spread wide as he lifted his fresh mug. “I’ve never tasted a better brew.” “Agreed,” Jarvis said, pulling the tankard away from the king’s fingers. “Unfortunately, I don’t share your constitution. If I enjoy more of this marvelous ale, I won’t be able to ask what happened to Tarian’s colony.” Ferrek chuckled as an attendant replaced his stein. He drank half the fresh mug and sighed as he laid the stein down and wiped his face with his sleeve. “Gilras, remember all our stories.” “What about them?” Gilras asked as he leaned back in his chair. “Keep in mind our new friends are just like Tarian’s folk from your father’s time. All our tales from that era highlight their inability to match our tolerance or love for grog.” The king stroked his beard as his gaze drifted toward Jarvis. His stubby fingers combed through the thick hair at his neck while a heavy silence settled across the room. “You’re not wrong, but I expected more from this new batch of humans, considering how you described their battles with the horde.” “After all this time, and despite their mighty weapons, they’re still frail in comparison to us.” Ferrek lifted his tankard and tapped Jarvis’s shoulder. “But even if you are on the verge of collapsing, it’s polite to taste every drink given to you.” Jarvis closed his eyes as he lifted the tankard off the table and took a small sip. As he placed it down, he licked his lips as a sigh rushed out. “Now, what can you tell us about Tarian’s colony and what became of it?” “Not much,” the dwarven king said, clasping his hands. “It was a little before my time.” “Your kin was nothing more than legend,” Ferrek said, waving his brew about. Gilras sighed and took a pull from his tankard. “My father, Fitik, ruled during Tarian’s expedition, Jarvis.” “Is he still alive?” “You are fortunate,” Gilras said as he slowly swirled the ale about his stein...

“Isaac, wake up,” Jasmine said as she shoved the pilot’s arm. “I’m awake.” The pilot ground his teeth as he cracked one eye open. He exhaled and swiveled toward his copilot. “My eyes needed a rest, nothing more. And you know from experience that poking me isn’t smart.” Jasmine shook her head and adjusted the controls at her station. She leaned back, rested her feet on the console, and laced her fingers behind her neck. “We’re finishing the last circuit, and the sun’s interference muddied three mineral scans. We need to update the triumvirs.” Isaac dismissed her comment with a smile. “You don’t imagine Quinn or Caitlin will be concerned with a trivial delay, do you?” “Those two won’t care.” Jasmine winked and waved him off. “But I’m sure Olyver would complain about it.” The cockpit door opened, and Britt walked to the third seat. “Are we ready to call the triumvirs?” Isaac grabbed his cup and peered inside. He drained the contents before tossing the crumpled cup at Britt’s head. “What are you doing up here?” The older man deflected the improvised projectile and glared at Jasmine. “Can’t you control him?” “Britt, he tossed you out of the cockpit already.” Jasmine clicked her tongue, lowered her feet from the console, and shrugged. “Isaac, we need to report, and Olyver insisted Britt is the communications officer.” “Whatever you say.” Isaac turned back to his controls. Britt adjusted his panel and opened a channel to the triumvirs. “Aurora, this is Escort One. Do you copy?” The comm line remained silent in the cockpit. Isaac glanced at Jasmine and winked before Quinn’s voice came through. “This is Quinn. What’s your status?” “Where are Caitlin and Olyver?” Britt asked. “They’re busy, but we don’t need them right now.” Quinn paused, then leaned closer to his device. “Can you tell me the planet’s condition?” Jasmine strode over to Britt’s station, batting the other man’s hand away. He bristled, but her glare kept him from moving. Jasmine jabbed the communications button. “Initial scans support a settlement. The atmosphere is stable, and the river basin holds enough water and cultivable soil to sustain one. But the solar interference keeps obscuring the northern mountains.” “Will the settlement require additional support?” Quinn asked. Jasmine took a shallow breath. “For the first year. But if the ridge contains what those distorted readings suggest, the settlement could supply resources in short order. Will you approve a landing?” Isaac released the controls, shifted in his seat, and swiveled toward Britt. “Orbital scans cannot tell us whether the landing site holds usable ore or unstable stone...

While Jarvis dabbed his forehead, the rough bark dug into the small of his back. After stealing a few precious moments, he shoved the damp cloth into his pocket as he hustled through his people and chased down their guide. When he reached the dwarf, Jarvis caught the stout warrior’s shoulder. “Ferrek, how much further do we have to go?” Hearty laughter exploded from the guide’s mouth as his head twisted. “We’re closer than the last time you asked. However, if you’re not as hearty as you claimed, we can take another break.” “No,” Jarvis said between ragged gasps. He pressed his palm against his chest as his head whipped about, searching the endless trees. “I’ll be fine.” “Provided you survive,” Ferrek said, clapping Jarvis’s side, “you should add exercise into your busy day.” As Jarvis’s knees wobbled, he leaned against a nearby tree. With raucous laughter, Ferrek spun around and continued marching through the forest. As the dwarf wove through the trunks, Jarvis plucked his canteen from his belt and swallowed several gulps. Once the water tumbled down his throat, he wiped his mouth and hustled after the guide. As he crested the hill, a stout hand slapped Jarvis’s stomach. “What was that for?” “Look down,” Ferrek said, pointing at the ground. Squinting his eyes, Jarvis stepped away from the fissure splitting the ground before his boots. He shook his head and inched toward the chasm. “Where do we go from here?” The dwarven guide lifted his hands as his grin tugged at his cheeks. “Patience, Jarvis, there’s a twisting path that leads directly to the bottom of this cliff and the entrance to our home. It’s good that you got your second wind. The climb down will be taxing.” “After you.” With a nod, the guide spun around and marched along the cliff’s edge. When the dwarf reached a gnarled tree, he spun around it and followed the trail as it bent around the cliff face. When they reached the bottom of the cliff, Ferrek clapped Jarvis’s back. “Cheers, you and your friends are the first outsiders allowed inside our halls.” With a nod, Jarvis took another pull from his canteen. “Thanks for the honor.” Ferrek gestured toward the far wall of stone and bowed. “Your courage in battle earned you the right to face our king.” Jarvis’s hand quivered as he grabbed Fenton and pointed at the intricate stonework opposite them. “Can you see that?” “It’s a little hard to miss,” Fenton said as he pulled himself free from Jarvis’s grasp. Jarvis shook his head and rubbed the feeling back into his legs before he resumed chasing after his guide. Silently, their group passed through the massive archway, and the solid stone doors sealed behind them. The torches lining the walls shone brightly, reflecting off the gold and silver inlays. “Your hall could withstand a siege, Ferrek.” “It’s sufficient for our needs.” Fenton cleared his throat as his head swiveled to take in everything he could...

With a knock on the doorframe, Jarvis stalked into the makeshift laboratory. "Did you complete the study, Myriam?" The scientist's eyes darted to the pad beside her. As her breath rushed out, she clutched the tablet to her chest. "We've run the test multiple times." "What are the results?" One of Myriam's hands fell from the device. "Something has to be wrong with the field samples." "Please give me the tablet." Jarvis stepped forward, reaching out with a weary hand. "I'll examine what you've discovered for myself." The scientist's eyes widened as she thrust the pad into Jarvis's grasp. "Somehow, the horde descended from the original expedition. How's that possible? We do not share any similarities with those monsters." Jarvis pressed the device into the table's edge as he stifled a groan. "I was hoping Diana's findings were flawed, but two studies have turned that hope into denial." "I was repeating someone else's work?!" "Calm down, Myriam," Jarvis said as he pulled the tablet to his chest. "While her results corroborated Tarian's logs, I couldn't leave something like this to a single study." "Did her work provide you with anything useful?" Jarvis's head swayed back and forth as he flicked the device on. "I am not sure, but hopefully, your combined efforts will provide clarity. While I examine everything, please have all the bodies incinerated." "You want me to burn their dead?" Jarvis sighed as his eyes glazed over. "Despite their appearance, these studies prove those monsters have a shared history with us. As a result, they deserve to be laid to rest. Unfortunately, we don't have the time to bury them. Use Cecile's cannons to vaporize the remains." Reaching for her radio, Myriam swallowed a groan. "If you insist." With a nod, Jarvis whirled about and left. As he hurried down the hall, Fenton fell in beside him. He pointed at the device. "There's a rumor spreading that our enemies are related to our ancestors." "I already knew that." Fenton stopped and spun Jarvis around. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Jarvis shrugged out of Fenton's grasp and shoved his face next to his. "Tarian's logs are filled with useful information...

With a growl, Calen crumpled the map as mist clung to his face. He wiped his mouth as he leaned against a tree. Calen reopened the weathered paper and examined it. When he finished, he shoved the map into his pocket. “That’s what I get for chasing whispered gossip.” *“Whispers can possess the same weight as facts.”* He whipped around, searching the dense wall of foliage. He inched closer to a dense swatch of bush and thrust his arms inside. With a long breath, he spread the branches, revealing a mist rolling across the ground. He removed his arms, retrieving the map to read the note written on the reverse. > The archive of all walkers can be found where the markings glow faintly and the air empowers the scent of memory. “I should have gotten more information from the traveler I bought this from.” *“You’ve found the path you need for recollection.”* Shaking his head to banish the strange voice, Calen stepped through the foliage. Once through the dense vegetation, he stepped into a moss-draped glade, where light ran through the gaps in the canopy. Filtered light mingled with green foliage, casting shifting shadows despite the stillness. Moments passed as the mist unfurled from the glade’s edge. Calen had studied magic for decades. He’d translated ancient memoirs. He debated the ethics of dangerous spells with high mages. Calen even argued with a vampire, convincing him not to satiate his hunger. However, none of his past achievements prepared him for the weight of this place. He felt it first in his fingertips, the ghost of calluses he didn’t have. He staggered toward the emerging mist as a memory bloomed. Calen ran barefoot through a grassland. Occasional blades brushed his cheek as he chased someone whose laughter reminded him of heavenly bells. When she turned, something inside him surged. The way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, he knew her. He wanted to call out her name, but it refused to come. Yet still, he mourned the loss of his sister. But he’d never had a sister. As he staggered closer to the rolling mist, more vivid memories flooded into his mind. With each new one, his legs quivered. He was whisked through the world to stand on a hillside with a silver-feathered hawk perched upon his arm. The bird’s head twisted to him as its talons dug into the thick leather glove wrapped about his arm. While the pressure on Calen’s forearm squeezed, its eyes mirrored his own resolve. Not affection, not command, but allegiance. It seemed the bird traversed centuries to locate him...

When the door slammed shut, Olyver jumped to his feet. “We’re heading back to the stars.” Caitlin sighed, burying her head in her hands. “That’s not what Lambert told us, Olyver.” Olyver sat on the desk’s edge and glared at her. “Lambert said they completed the structure. Last month, the frame needed four weeks before anyone could survive outside of the space dock.” “A projection based on borrowed crews and atmosphere processors.” Caitlin plucked a pen off her desk as she rubbed her brow. With a steadying breath, she whirled it about her fingers. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. “Isn’t that right?” “Those workers bought us time,” Olyver objected as he gestured with his hands. “So why are you treating progress like a problem?” “We have to reassign them.” Caitlin slammed her pen down, punctuating her words. Olyver sighed as he gripped his desk’s edge. “When did Quinn enter the office?” She jumped to her feet and leaned over her desk. “You knew this measure wouldn’t last. Every extra week on the ship delays important planetary infrastructure, not to mention vital tools for colonization.” “Such as?” “The eastern anchors,” Caitlin said, rising to her full height, “and the processors Lambert says will miss calibration if their crews don’t return before the next supply cycle.” “Fine,” Olyver waved at her as he paced about their shared office. “The loan ends before it becomes theft.” “We drafted a schedule for shifting the workers’ focus.” Caitlin nodded her head and withdrew a document from a drawer. She walked to Olyver’s desk and laid it down. “Please review and sign the official transfer.” Olyver lifted it and reviewed the words. When he finished, his gaze rose to hers. “When did you and Quinn find time to draft this?” “Soon after arranging for the influx of workers.” She turned and returned to her seat. Caitlin reclaimed her pen and pointed at the document resting on Quinn’s desk. “Lambert warned us that the loan had a hard edge. Keep them longer, and the first colonists may have a ship before they have somewhere safe to settle.” Olyver looked away as he dropped the transfer. “But why didn’t you talk to me about it?” “We did.” Caitlin’s smile warmed as she thrust her pen at the document. “You’re voicing your concerns now.” Olyver’s knuckles whitened as he forced a question through his sneer. “Why not bring this kind of decision to me earlier?” “Because you were talking with your constituents,” Caitlin said. “Sign it. Then you can tell them the ship gained three weeks without stealing six from the platforms.” Grumbling Olyver plucked the pad off his desk and read through the proposal again...

As the radio crackled to life, Jarvis pulled it to his ear. “Fenton, talk to me.” “This is the third thrust the horde’s prepared today. Where are they finding more bodies?” “Who knows?” With a grunt, Jarvis peered through a hatch. “Just remember your targets. We can’t waste energy targeting the same creatures.” “We’ll handle the medium threats, but we’d appreciate proof that those upgraded cannons exist and work.” “Cecile should have more soon.” “Are you talking about a normal person’s definition... or hers?” Jarvis pulled a rag from his pocket and wiped his face. As he returned the damp cloth, he nudged the gunner wielding the altered prototype. “I’m hopeful we’ll receive more soon.” “That means we’re using Cecile’s ambiguous interpretation.” “She’s converting several at once, and she insists the process is complicated. We have one flexible weapon capable of eradicating huge swaths of these monsters.” Jarvis switched the radio for a scope and examined the assembling creatures emerging from the distant treeline. “While you handle the infantry, my gunners will deal with those walking trees.” “Roger that. Then we’ll trust you to neutralize whatever air support materializes.” “This assault doesn’t have any of those pesky flyers,” Jarvis said as he moved to another hatch. “But that doesn’t mean they won’t appear once the charge starts. If they do, they’re our problem. I don’t want your attention drifting off those green skins.” “Roger that.” “Get ready.” Jarvis switched the radio’s channel and activated it. “Cecile, where are those upgraded cannons?” “We need another thirty minutes for the full batch!” Jarvis’s fist slammed into the bulkhead, and as he pulled it away, a few droplets of blood tumbled from his fingers. “I don’t expect our relentless enemy to sit and wait while you finish tinkering. Bring whatever weapons are finished!” Jarvis switched off his radio and rushed to the gunner wielding the prototype. He squeezed Gerald’s shoulder and kneeled beside him. “Gerald, target the most densely packed sections of their infantry.” When the gunner activated the weapon, the hum thundered through the chamber. “I remember the warnings, though I’d rather start thinning them out now.” “I understand the frustration, but they seem to have an endless supply of bodies.” “That doesn’t mean I have to like our problem.” “Don’t worry. They’re not going to keep us waiting long.” Gerald pulled the scope to his eye as his fingers whitened around the weapon’s grip. “That wasn’t comforting. Hopefully, my stomach will settle once they charge.” A woman to Gerald’s right snorted as her head twisted. “I’ll remind you of that once the onslaught reaches us.” Jarvis stepped between them as he studied the undulating creatures...

“Hello, sister,” Leodor said, sitting down beside Tiatha. “Have you been providing extra lessons?” With a sigh, she laid the book on her chest as she leaned away from him. “Do you object to my giving certain pupils extra attention?” “No,” Leodor said, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m simply surprised they’re willing to take on extra work from you.” Haughty laughter bubbled out of her lips as she tossed the book onto the table. “Humiliation is a wonderful motivator.” As Leodor’s lips twitched, blue illumination flared from the bookshelf. Tiatha’s chair skittered across the floor as she pointed at the swelling light. “Didn’t you tell me that your teachers were incapable of creating portals?” “No one can…” Tiatha inched closer to the expanding opening while a pale golden light wrapped around her fingers. “Then who’s forcing their way into your school?” “I don’t know.” Leodor shook his head as blue electricity crackled across his shoulders. “My wards prevent all but the most skilled from opening a way inside the grounds.” With a silent explosion, the light imploded into a swirling vortex as a lean man wielding a spear stepped through the maelstrom. His gaze swept across the library, stopping when he found Leodor and Tiatha. His lips curled into a predatory smile as he thumped the weapon against the ground as if driving in a nail. “We have a Hunter,” Tiatha said, crossing her arms as she leaned against a bookshelf. “Would you like the first strike?” “I’m surprised you haven’t dealt with him yet,” Leodor said, stepping between his sister and the intruder. “However, I’d be willing to lead our rebuttal.” “It would appear that I have located a couple of rogues.” The intruder’s spear leapt into the air, whirling over his head. “The council will smile upon me for collecting a pair of criminals.” “Counting your prizes is useless if you’re not alive to collect them.” Leodor shook his head as he thrust a slender finger toward the invader. “Why don’t you Hunters ever learn from your mistakes?” The Hunter’s laughter rebounded off the bookshelves while a bolt of electricity lanced from the whirling spear. As it raced across the room, Leodor spun out of its path, letting it collide with the stone floor behind him. While debris flew about the room, a pair of bolts erupted from Leodor’s fingertip, racing toward the Hunter...

“Jarvis, order the teams to cease firing,” Cecile said, poking into the crow’s nest. After the dragon’s neck and wing vaporized, Jarvis shoved his gun at his teammate and rushed to Cecile, catching her by the shoulders. “We can’t stop using these weapons.” Cecile ripped Jarvis’s hands from her and thumped his chest. “If you keep them running at this rate, the upgrades won’t matter. They’ll blow up.” The closest gunner’s hands slipped from the cannon’s grips as he backed away. “What did you say?!” “Keep those dragons off the wall!” Jarvis spun around and lowered his voice. “I thought your upgrades fixed that problem.” “This kind of continual fire wasn’t part of my design.” She planted her hands on her hips before gripping the collar of his shirt and forcing him to look at the cannons. “Stop overusing these guns!” Jarvis pinched his nose as he shook his head. “What are the odds they’ll detonate?” “You want to risk blowing the cannons up?!” Jarvis steered the engineer against the doorframe and pitched his voice so only she could understand him. “We’re dealing with about a dozen dragons ferrying minotaurs and trolls over the walls. Our regular rifles can’t harm those beasts. Those odds matter.” Cecile kneaded her forehead and groaned. “With this kind of load, the odds of catastrophic failure rise to somewhere between ten and fifteen percent.” “Can we keep them from exploding?” Her shoulders fell as her back hit the doorframe. “Before the cannons blow up, they will start whining. As soon as you hear the whine, fire one controlled shot to bleed off the charge, then turn it off.” “That’ll prevent the weapon from detonating?” “No, but it’s the best chance to keep them intact.” “Be an extra set of ears,” Jarvis said as he urged her inside the crow’s nest. As she stumbled into the chamber, he pulled out a radio. “Fenton, how are the walls?” “The cannons are the only reason the worst hasn’t reached us.” Wincing, Jarvis tapped the device against the doorjamb. “Stop beating around the bush and spill!” “Those monsters never run out of corpses to throw at us. The moment we kill one, three more climb over the bodies.” “Roger that,” Jarvis said, kicking the wall. “Keep doing your job, and I’ll see about thinning the horde.” Jarvis shoved the radio into his belt. He marched across the room and spun Cecile away from the gunners. “How difficult will it be to adjust the cannons?” “That depends,” Cecile said as her eyes flicked toward the nearest cannon...

Folding his hands behind his back, Lambert licked his lips as his gaze swept across each of the triumvirs. “The space docks are nearing completion, sooner than expected.” Olyver clapped, unable to hide the spark in his eyes. His head twitched toward Quinn as he smiled. “That is fantastic news, Lambert. Wouldn’t you all agree?” Quinn nodded. Caitlin leaned forward. “It changes the pressure that’s on us.” “While this took too long to reach, it’s progress. But we need more.” Olyver inched closer to the edge of his desk. “How fast can you finish the initial ship?” Lambert slouched as he rubbed his chin. After a moment, he straightened. “We should begin testing it in a year and a half, given our current pace.” “Can’t your team do any better?” Olyver asked. “We may be able to get it down to a year.” Lambert inclined his head at Quinn, his eyes lingering on the triumvir. “But that would require pulling workers, materials, and oversight away from the other projects.” “Thank you, Lambert,” Quinn said. “We’ll consider the cost before making that decision.” “What about the supplies?” Olyver asked. Before anyone could answer, he leaned closer. “Have you had any trouble ferrying them up to the docks?” Lambert’s gaze shifted to Olyver. “No, we’re getting the materials we need on time.” “Now that’s good news,” Quinn said, offering a soft nod. “Thank you,” Lambert said, bowing to them. When he rose, he turned and left the room. When the door closed, Olyver faced Quinn. “Lambert just shortened the vessel’s timeline.” “But you heard the cost,” Caitlin said as she stood and rested her arms on the back of her chair. “A year and a half gives us the ship without starving everything around it.” Olyver’s eyes narrowed. “If it were up to the two of you, every delay would be dressed up as caution.” Quinn shook his head. “Olyver, I am weary of your impatience masquerading as urgency.” “Enough,” Caitlin said. “Caitlin, relax,” Quinn said. His eyes shifted back to Olyver. “I am tired of your grief. We’re aware of what you want.” He thumped his hand against his desk as he leaned toward Olyver. “But every project we accelerate steals time, labor, or materials from something else. You understand that as well as I do. And you know that we get everything done according to its priority.” Olyver held Quinn’s stare for a moment before looking away...

“Cecile, how many plasma cannons were you able to complete?” “I completed three and a half, Jarvis.” “Oh, goodie,” Fenton said, shaking his head. “What’s the benefit of the unfinished one?” As a groan escaped Jarvis’s lips, his fingertips massaged his eyes. “Go man the wall, Fenton. Once there, order a handful of the best marksmen to the nest.” “I’ll see to it,” Fenton said, his gaze lingering on Cecile. After Fenton left, Jarvis’s attention drifted toward the screen. His finger traced a few of the hideous monsters lining the monitor. Jarvis enlarged the image and studied one of the new critters. “It looks like the beasts have diversified. We’re fortunate that Tarian’s notes contained detailed descriptions of our foes. We’ll focus on the newest monstrosities before their rampage starts.” “What are they?” “Tarian called them minotaurs.” “After all these assaults, you’d think I’d be accustomed to this.” Cecile batted Jarvis’s hands away from the screen and magnified the picture. She glanced away, biting her lip. “However, that beast appears to combine the traits of a bull and a man.” Jarvis nodded and restored the image to its regular size. “Based on Tarian’s logs, they are stronger than you might imagine. Still, that original crew didn’t have our weaponry. Your cannons should cut through those monsters.” “What should the gunners concentrate on once they’ve destroyed the minotaurs?” “Target the biggest threats, while the automated turrets handle the green-skinned menace.” With a grunt, Cecile examined the image. She pointed at another section of the screen and sighed. “I guess that means these are the secondary targets for the cannons.” “Unless something bigger emerges.” “Are you expecting a dragon to rise over that horizon?” “That’s a sample of the fanciful beasts attempting to annihilate us. The moment the marksmen arrive, drag them up to the crow’s nest.” Jarvis rushed for the exit, pulling to a halt in the doorframe as he licked his lips. “Do your cannons require a team?” “With this configuration, they do.” Jarvis hit the frame and drew in a long breath. “Given the number of creatures massing out there, I doubt Fenton could spare that many.” “I suppose we can make the weapons work with just a pair of gunners.” “I don’t care how you get the numbers. Find them and move!” “On it,” Cecile said, squeezing past him. Jarvis nodded, turned, and bolted down the corridor. He scurried to the bank of elevators and waited for one to arrive. When it dinged, he walked inside and jabbed the button for the top floor, and the car shot up the shaft. When it reached the nest, he strode out and ran to the hatches, waiting for the plasma cannons...

The last time anyone had been in Aunt Lorna’s attic, disco was still king, and her brother, Sebastian’s uncle Gerald, was still alive. If Gerald were still around, he’d be sporting mismatched socks and rambling about conspiracies. But now Lorna was getting ready to sell the house, and she needed help. So she bribed her nephew with a combination of dinner, guilt, and the promise of her legendary peach cobbler. Sebastian ultimately relented since family mattered. But Jimmy only agreed because he’d misheard his friend, thinking there’d be poker. As Jimmy carried a box toward the attic door, he paused and glared at Sebastian. “It smells like a sweater died in here. A very old and musty sweater.” “You’re wearing a sweater,” Sebastian said, digging through a box, “and it looks old.” Dust motes floated like ghosts in the beams of light from the dangling bulbs. While the attic was cluttered, it wasn’t chaotic. There were carefully stacked boxes, faded furniture under white sheets, and a worn recliner that once hosted many of Gerald’s late-night rants. “That’s not the point.” Jimmy stepped around an ancient stack of National Geographics and pointed at a shoebox sitting precariously in the middle of the floor. “That looks cursed.” “Everything looks cursed to you,” Sebastian said as he wandered over to it and removed its lid. Inside the cardboard container, he found a bundle of cassette tapes wrapped in a child’s drawing. The sketch was nothing more than crayon lines forming a crooked train tunnel, with a bright red sun in one corner and two stick figures standing near the entrance. While one sported a grin, the other had Xs instead of eyes. “Creepy on its own, but the fact a kid made it? Makes it extra unnerving.” Jimmy deposited the box beside the door and sauntered back to Sebastian. “We agreed not to mess with creepy children’s artwork, remember?” “We never agreed to such a thing.” Sebastian pulled out a tape, finding a handwritten label, ‘Tunnel: Final Recording.’ “Nope,” Jimmy said, backing toward the exit. “No ‘final recordings.’ That’s like opening a video labeled Don’t Watch Me.” But Sebastian had already retrieved a dusty tape player. He blew out the speakers and slammed the tape inside before clicking the play button. A soft hiss filled the attic, then a voice, warbled with age but unmistakably childlike, replaced it. “I went in again. The tunnel’s deeper now. Mom says I’m dreaming, but she doesn’t hear it.” Jimmy pressed his back against the wall, eyes darting around the attic. “We’re listening to the eerie tape. This is how we die. Headline’s gonna read, ‘Two idiots done in by EVP.’” “Shh,” Sebastian said, narrowing his eyes. “I’m trying to listen to our doom in stereo.” “I left a drawing, so people could follow me,” the voice continued, “in case I don’t return.” A low rumble crackled through the speaker. Not static. It sounded like distant wheels on a track. “Who records a train?” Jimmy rubbed his lips and shook his head. “Was this a travel vlog?” “Someone who didn’t make it out.” Sebastian glanced at the drawing again. “These stick figures… this one appears to be waving goodbye.” “One’s got Xs instead of eyes! What kind of kid draws that?!” They sat in silence as the tape wound on...

Jarvis shoved a tablet across the table, and it slid to a stop in front of the dwarf's hand. "Ferrek, while we're fresh visitors to this world, those logs suggest our ancestors were allied against the unending flood of monsters." "I'm aware of the old tales." Ferrek's nose scrunched as his beefy fingertip poked the device. "What's this?" Closing his eyes, Jarvis folded his hands, pressing them against his forehead. "That's rather complicated. We can discuss it another time. Let's focus on what's before us." Ferrek lifted the pad, flipping it back and forth. With a shrug, the burly dwarf dropped the tablet to the desk and leaned into his seat. Laughter filled the small room as he pulled his weapon off the floor and a stone from his pack. He spat on the stone and placed it beside the device. "And what is it you're hoping to gain from this conversation?" "I'm offering a reason to rebuild what was lost." The heavy blade thudded against the wet stone, and Ferrek guided its edge along the rock. When it cleared, he flipped the ax, drawing the other side down the stone. The dwarf fell into a steady rhythm as he repeated those simple motions. "Your ancestor, Tarian, insulted our leader's honor. My people do not forget those kinds of offenses or insults." Ferrek pulled the ax off the stone and ran his thumb across the edge. His lips curled into a smile as he laid the weapon across the table. "It's fortunate for you that time has altered our leadership, and our current king isn't as attached to the lore." "Does that mean an alliance is possible?" "I remember the stories my father told me about your kin. Despite being weaker, they possessed magical weapons." With the flat of the blade, Ferrek scooped the tablet up, tossing it into Jarvis's lap. His grin widened as his hand flashed to his ax, slamming it into the table. "Based on your destruction of that tree, your weapons are superior to what they wielded." Jarvis lifted his fingers to his chin and licked his lips. "Are you suggesting that your liege will be more willing to assist us, if we supply you with some of our formidable equipment?" Warm laughter echoed about the room as Ferrek yanked his weapon from the tabletop. "I like you." "It's been a pleasure meeting you as well." "You're lucky I'm a close friend of the king, and we share similar opinions on most topics." Ferrek shook his head as he pulled the weapon toward his eye and dragged his thumb across the edge. He laid the ax down and lifted the stone from the desk, wiping it off on his pants leg. As his breath rushed from his lips, the stout dwarf gestured with the stone. "Offering to assist us in our defense from the dangers in this world wouldn't hurt your cause." With a smile, Jarvis lifted a hand. "We're having difficulty securing enough weapons to defend our encampment, but we have plenty of bodies ready to fight with you that can bolster the support of your home. Would that be an acceptable compromise?" Ferrek laid the ax head on the ground, propping the handle against the table as he slipped the stone into his pack...

Olyver threw the door open and stalked towards Quinn's desk. He growled as he slammed his hands down on it. "Where's Caitlin?" Quinn ignored Olyver's outburst as he flipped through his documents. "Does it matter, Olyver?" He pulled a file from his coat and snarled. "We are not making progress on the draft or the ships." "They're not ready to be completed." Olyver slapped the papers out of Quinn's hands before throwing his stack into his fellow triumvir's chest, "We've had this drafted for a month, and we haven't ratified it." Quinn leaned back, lifting the document. "What makes you expect it'll be approved?" Olyver's scowl intensified as he loomed over Quinn. "We agreed—" "No, we didn't." Quinn gathered the scattered papers around his desk. Once he retrieved the last sheet, he placed it on top of his skewed pile. He folded his hands together and glared at Olyver. "What needs to happen first is perfecting and completing the federation's charter." "Even if I agree with that, it circles back to Caitlin's whereabouts." The triumvir groaned and rounded his desk, encroaching into Olyver's space. "Why are you in such a rush, Olyver?" "I'm not impatient." Olyver pushed Quinn away as his eyes narrowed. "Why are you two sandbagging this?" Quinn shook his head before sitting on his desk's edge. He snatched Olyver's documents as he offered them to the other triumvir. "This draft is still three to five years from being implemented. You've seen the construction projections, Olyver." "Stop using that as an excuse for dragging this agreement through your roadblocks!" Olyver shoved the papers off Quinn's desk as he retrieved his. He slammed them onto the empty space and thumped Quinn's chest. "I'm tired of you and Caitlin trying to circumvent this crucial work with that trite argument!" "There's nothing dismissive with reality, Olyver." Quinn brushed Olyver's fingers off before he reclaimed the scattered papers. "Truth helps our cause." "Bah," Olyver said as he stormed off to his desk. "I need to bring something more substantial to my constituents." With his papers recovered, Quinn brandished them like a conductor's baton. "While the colonization ships have been designed, construction is still multiple years off. We cannot return to the stars until they are finished. You reviewed the same reports I did." Olyver slammed his palm against his desk, his eyes narrowing to slits. "If you two had not dragged your heels on everything, we would've already completed the first colonization ship." Dropping the stack down, Quinn slipped into his seat and leaned back, lifting the front legs just off the floor. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the ceiling. "If we'd spent our time with the ships, we wouldn't have flourished." "But at what cost?" "I will not argue this point with you again, Olyver." Quinn's chair thumped down as he slammed the documents Olyver had given him...

A small team of defenders grabbed rough ropes, marching away from the wall. With each step, the guards dragged the heavy boulder across the ground, creating an exit in the settlement’s barrier. When the slab struck the reinforced section, Fenton waved his squadron forward. As the last member walked through the opening, Fenton took a deep breath and signaled another squad to close the gap. With a groan, the massive stone screeched as the rock slid into place, while Fenton stepped through the shrinking portal. He rested the stock of his rifle on the ground as his gaze drifted among the members of his unit. Once he finished the tally, he lifted his weapon to his shoulder and rubbed his chin. “Does everyone understand what Jarvis tasked us to do?” Alek raised a finger and pitched his voice. “We’re searching for food, fuel, and friends, and not necessarily in that order.” “Despite our friend’s attitude, he’s not wrong.” Fenton stepped beside the flippant man and swatted the back of Alek’s head. Fenton pointed at the treeline and licked his lips. “Keep your eyes peeled for anything that might prove useful or dangerous.” When the radio attached to Fenton’s hip chirped, he groaned and pulled it off his belt. “Jarvis, talk to me.” “Have you reached the trees yet?” The leader whirled around and kicked the stone barrier. “Are you in the crow’s nest?” “Yes.” Fenton dragged his fingernails down his face, swallowing a stream of curses. When his voice died, he looked up and forced his lips to curl into a grin. “If you look out the window, you’ll notice that we just walked through the wall.” “Then you might have a problem.” “Why?” “We’ve got movement in the trees.” Fenton spun toward the treeline. He tapped two soldiers on the shoulder, and in unison, the pair turned and leveled their weapons at the trees. As limbs swayed back and forth, Fenton inched closer. “You’re calling out to discuss some swaying branches?” “With the monsters roaming this planet, we’d be foolish not to jump when things sway against the wind.” The remaining rifles whirled through the air, joining Fenton. With the barrels focused on the swaying boughs, the squad closed in on the wall. When Fenton’s back met the stone, he steadied himself and edged toward the forest. As he stepped in front of his team, Fenton raised a hand, stopping the squad. “What exactly are we looking at?” After taking a few steps, a branch swayed against the wind, and a pulse of yellow light tore from the Crow’s Nest and swallowed the tree. “HEY!” Flames erupted along the trunk in an instant. Then Fenton’s unit bounced off the barrier. Fenton whirled around, slamming his fist against the slab. “Open this gate!” “Who’s out there!” a mysterious and gruff voice shot across the glade. “Hurry and haul this stone away from the wall.” Fenton shoved his radio onto his belt as he pressed his cheek against the stock. “I’d prefer not to deal with whatever’s tracking us.” A thick red beard pushed through the shadows as a heavy ax slammed into the ground beside the burning tree. He wrenched the blade free and cleaved it through the trunk...

Elena hadn’t meant to leave the trail, but her feet had other plans, getting her lost. After several minutes of searching, she caught a glimmer of light through the dense foliage, nothing more but enough to spark hope. Moments later, that simple flicker flared to life as she glimpsed more through the trees. She ducked branches as she weaved about the roots and vines. Each silent footfall landed on moss as she navigated the maze by the light seeping through the foliage. When she burst forth from the tree line, she stumbled, dropping to her hands and knees as if the very air had stolen her strength. The cool grass cushioned her fall. When she dared to lift her gaze, the world around her bloomed in silent wonder. Mist glided like breath across the ground, while a wide silver river cut through the clearing, its surface still as glass. Above the forest’s canopy, the clouds continued their slow drift across the lavender sky, like ink in water. Two stone arches, glowing with a faint violet light, stood beside each other on the shore. After climbing to her feet, she stumbled toward them, her breath catching. Each framed the same river cutting through a forest. Complete with a crooked branch jutting out to hang over the water and a black crow, with slick and motionless feathers, perched upon it. As her gaze bounced between the views, the birds did the same thing. Resting motionless on their perches as they stared at her. Elena ignored them and resumed studying the images. The trees were the same. The rocks were the same. Everything seemed identical between the two images. A gust stirred the mist, pulling it about her. As Elena whirled about, a low and melodic voice shattered the silence. “Ah, a threadwalker, bold and bright. Be ye drawn by fate or chance or fright?” “What!? Who’s there!?” A figure tumbled from the canopy, landing in a crouch. The rail-thin figure, no taller than a teenager, rose with a grin too wide for his face. A shadow of mirth curled behind his eyes as he bowed. When he rose, he stepped toward Elena, his hands drifting behind his back. She reflexively stepped away from the newcomer, covering her mouth. “Who — What are you?” The creature discarded an invisible hat with an exaggerated flourish. “Gaius, fool, guide, and test. I wear many names, none I detest. I keep the paths where threads unwind. It’s up to me to judge the walkers who dare to find.” Elena’s head shook as she inched away. “What do you mean, judge?” The creature danced a half-circle around Elena as his arms whipped about. “One path leads to the world that’s yours. The other? A shadow locked behind doors. Choose wrong, and you’ll be forced to stay. In someone else’s skin, day after day.” Elena faced the portals. “They’re identical. How am I supposed to make a choice between them?” Gaius clapped his hands like a giddy child. “Some weep, some choke. But some possess sight that burns through the smoke. Some find the thread that truths conceal. The path that bends, the world that’s real.” She stepped to the portal on her right and resumed studying it. It was the same scene. Everything was unchanged...

Jarvis closed his eyes and thumped the wall of his useless ship. With a grunt, he marched into the laboratory and leaned against the doorframe, studying the plasma cannon’s exposed innards. He folded his arms across his chest and cleared his throat. “Cecile, how’s your work progressing?” A curse echoed off the walls, and as silence rushed to fill the space, Cecile’s head crested the workbench. “You weren’t supposed to bother me for a couple of days while I performed my diagnostics.” “That’s why you got five.” “Has it been that long?” Jarvis nodded as he retrieved an implement from the bench. “Based on where you are, I’ll assume you’re poking at my engine.” Cecile snatched the tool from Jarvis, returning to the opening. “I’m following your standing orders to get this bucket off the ground.” He reached down and pulled her clear of the hatch. Jarvis’s thumb pointed at the workbench as he leaned toward her. “While that’s an important goal, your top priority was repairing and replicating that cannon.” With a shrug, Cecile waved her tool at the weapon scattered over her table. “Five days…?” “You’re in your element. I’m not surprised you lost track of time.” He stepped to the workbench, tapping the device. “Now tell me why you’ve abandoned the cannon.” “I haven’t deserted it.” Cecile swiped her eyes as her shoulders sagged. She hopped onto a stool and pulled an implement from her belt. She stuck the tip into the chamber and adjusted the wires there. “Whenever I wear out a mystery, I need to sink my teeth into something new.” Jarvis plucked the tool from her and patted the chassis. “Have you repaired the overload?” “Not yet.” “We’ve successfully used the other experimental weapon in three raids.” Cecile reclaimed the device and tapped it against the hollowed-out cannon. “There’s a difference between theoretical and operational. And given your proximity to the thing, I thought you’d appreciate that distinction.” Jarvis wrung his hands. “When will we receive more cannons?” “I’m not sure. While I’ve isolated the cause of their self-detonation, I haven’t corrected it. But if you’re eager to tempt suicide, I’ll produce flawed weapons for you.” Jarvis’s palm slammed against his forehead while gritting his teeth. “If you’ve identified it, why isn’t it fixed?” “Whoever designed the original was careless.” “Why’s that?” Jarvis asked, sitting down at the workbench. “The folks back home are pretty smart.” Cecile shook her head and dove into the open access panel. “Even the smartest people make mistakes, especially with a prototype...

A lithe man opened the door to the triumvirate’s office and stepped inside. He studied Caitlin and Quinn. With a smirk, he allowed the heavy door to slam shut. The thud shattered the silent room, making the two triumvirs jump in their seats. They looked up at the man with dirty-blond hair as he claimed his desk. “Good morning, Olyver,” Caitlin said as he claimed his desk’s seat. Olyver gave Caitlin a slight dip of his head, “Good morning, Caitlin. I hope you two are doing well.” “What do you want?” Quinn asked as he shoved papers aside. “To bring the two of you to task.” Caitlin slammed her hands onto her desk as she shot to her feet. “You’re out of line—” A whistle echoed through the office as Quinn stared at Caitlin. She stopped talking as she returned to her seat. Quinn’s gaze drifted to Olyver. “The triumvirate agreed that the conversations you’re seeking are best served by open discussion.” “That was the agreement my predecessor made.” Olyver folded his arms across his chest. “We searched for an appropriate time to hold these discussions. However, finding time for those talks has been difficult,” Quinn said. Olyver lifted a finger, keeping Quinn from continuing. After a few moments, he lowered his hand and spoke with clarity. “Quinn, you both outmaneuvered Malark with ease. He lacked the aptitude for a life embroiled in politics.” “We’re trying to lead our people back to the stars,” Caitlin said with a sigh. “We were not trying to outmaneuver your predecessor.” Olyver eyed Caitlin, studying her for a moment. “Your intentions don’t matter. What you’ve done is to keep us from moving forward. If we wait for consensus before designing, we guarantee a death by paralysis. If we begin design now, we give that consensus something real to react to.” “We do understand that,” Quinn said. “Before we colonize another world, we need the laws to govern them determined and codified,” Olyver said as if Quinn hadn’t interrupted him. Caitlin let her eyes flit to Quinn, and she saw his slight nod. She took a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap. “We know that as well, Olyver. But the scope of these conversations required us to shift the discussion to a forum to allow our citizens an opportunity to voice their opinions.” “A delay tactic,” Olyver said with grace despite the nascent snarl. “One the population is growing tired of dealing with.” Caitlin’s mouth parted for a moment before she snapped her lips shut. Her eyes lingered on Olyver for a second before shifting to Quinn. “And what would you suggest, Olyver?” Quinn asked as he lifted a pen from his desk. “For the three of us to have the very discussion you promised my predecessor and his constituents. However, I want more than a debate. I expect to derive a list of requirements for the ships, so that our engineers can start designing them. Also, we will draft the required legislation to guide our fledgling federation...

As the ship’s alarm blared to life, Dyrk’s voice crackled over the speakers, “We have incoming!” Jarvis dashed to the nearest station and activated it. “What’s heading for us?” “Would you believe a flying battalion?” Fenton shouldered Jarvis out of the way and punched the hull. “What did you say?” “You heard me. Move!” Jarvis pulled his hand off the terminal and pointed to the closest exit. “Stop antagonizing Dyrk! Get the best marksman we have.” Fenton backed toward the hatch. “What will they do against flying cavalry?” “You’ll keep them away from the defensive batteries.” “On it!” Fenton whirled around and raced through the open doorway. The upper decks had been converted into a defensive nest overlooking the settlement walls. Jarvis drove his knuckles into his forehead. “Dyrk, what do these creatures look like?” “I’m not sure,” the pilot hedged. As the silence built, Jarvis kicked the wall and drew in a deep breath. “You can’t call an invasion without visual contact.” “I have a visual, but I don’t even know how to explain what’s there.” Jarvis pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned his forehead against the hull. His eyelids closed as he exhaled. He took another breath and pressed the comm button. “Just tell me what you see.” “There is no way you believe my story.” “We’ve seen some outlandish things since we landed on this rock.” Jarvis sighed and stared up at the ceiling. “If you insist, the oncoming horde is spearheaded by a massive dragon carrying a swarming mass of those green-skinned maniacs. And the weirdness continues, with a slew of winged horses with crazed riders.” Jarvis slammed his fist into the bulkhead. His fingers flew across the console, making several adjustments before addressing every radio. “This isn’t a drill. Everyone, report to your stations and help repel the oncoming invasion. If those creatures reached the batteries, the settlement won’t last minutes...

As Thobin completed his circle, he pulled the stick’s tip off the earth and tossed it aside. He walked to its center and dropped to his knees, pressing his fingers into the soft earth. With a deep breath, he began chanting. Moments later, he ceased and withdrew his hands. Rising, he extended a palm over the ground and made a sharp motion toward the circle’s edge. The surface trembled before shifting, revealing something buried, a massive sheet of metal, dulled with age but undeniably foreign. Thobin’s brow furrowed as a rustle set his senses on edge. “What did you find?” Thobin turned to the voice. A man stood at the clearing’s edge, casual but watchful, his predatory eyes following Thobin’s every move. “I don’t know who you are, but if you’re a hunter, I’d recommend you leave. I won’t give you a second warning.” The man smirked, stepping forward. “Do you have an objection to someone finding food?” Thobin’s stance widened as he stepped toward the interloper. “You’re not a wizard, are you?” With a sly smile, the stranger lifted a hand. His flesh rippled and twisted, reshaping into a feline paw before returning to its human shape. “That’s all the magic me and mine can perform. But since you’re in our territory, I’d appreciate an answer to my question. If not, my friends might have to encourage your cooperation.” Thobin froze. He had sensed something earlier, but now, fully alert, he extended his awareness, finding predators lurking just beyond the tree line. His gaze flicked toward a trio of large feline figures, muscles coiled beneath sleek fur, waiting for a command. Then he found two more groups of silent sentinels. Slowly, Thobin raised his hands in surrender and turned back to the stranger. “I was simply trying to establish a home. When I attempted to shift the earth for my shelter’s foundation, I discovered this.” He gestured toward the massive metal plate. “It’s beyond my ability to manipulate.” The stranger’s feline eyes flickered toward the artifact. “What did you unearth?” “I’m uncertain.” Thobin hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “But it’s not natural. Though it isn’t dwarven craft, nor does it bear marking from any elven or human smith.” The stranger circled the exposed surface, his keen gaze scanning the oddly smooth metal. “You’re from the civilization of humans, elves, and dwarves, correct?” Thobin tensed at the careful wording. “And you are?” “Alric,” the stranger said. Thobin’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t answer my question.” Alric’s smirk widened, but he didn’t offer more. Instead, he kneeled beside the artifact, brushing loose soil from its surface. His fingers traced strange markings from the sheet of metal. Thobin’s head tilted as he inched closer. “Can you read the markings?” “No,” Alric admitted, standing. “Do you know what it means?” “For a second, I thought you possessed knowledge of it.” “None of my kin have any knowledge of this.” The rustling of leaves signaled movement from the feline sentries. Their ears twitched, their sleek tails flicking in agitation. They sensed something. Alric’s expression darkened. “We’re not alone...

“Is everything in working order?” Fenton leaned against the conference room’s doorframe as his gaze tracked from Dyrk to Jarvis. But before either could speak, Fenton ran his hand through his hair. “How about you, Dyrk? Have you secured a source of fuel to keep the reactor running?” Crossing his arms, Dyrk huffed. “Nope, but that’s not my job.” “Enough. Both of you.” Jarvis struck the table and exhaled as he steadied himself. He flipped a switch, and the small screen next to him activated. Jarvis flicked through the camera feeds and sighed as the crews built the wall. “We don’t have the luxury of snapping at each other. Contrary to popular myth, we aren’t on the brink of ruin. There’s time before the reactor runs dry.” “Only if those monsters stop their assaults,” Fenton said. “If the assaults continue at this rate, we’ll burn through our reserves faster than we can build.” Jarvis deactivated the monitor. “Those recovered expedition archives do more than warn of an endless supply of threats. They catalogue what looms over our heads and haunts this world.” “All those records do is detail how we are going to die.” Jarvis held Fenton’s gaze. “The logs also mention potential friends.” “I’ve read Tarian’s entries,” Dyrk said. “But the dwarves and elves don’t come across as useful allies.” Jarvis closed his eyes for a moment, drawing a deep breath. With a sigh, he opened them. “Dyrk, do you suppose Dianna can locate the resources you’ll need to power the ship’s reactor?” “How should I know?” Dyrk cracked his knuckles with a harrumph. “But so far, I’m not sure this rock has anything compatible with this boat.” Fenton walked over and squeezed Dyrk’s shoulder, “Why can’t you help Dianna find fuel for your ship?” “I am trying to shield the ship’s engines, but I’m not the engineer.” Dyrk swatted Fenton’s arm and jerked his chin toward Jarvis. “Despite my string of failures, I am confident we’re close to isolating and resolving the cause of the power drain. Couldn’t you lend her a hand?” “Jarvis tasked me with procuring the raw materials for our defense.” Fenton sat next to Dyrk. “Once we’ve collected enough, we’ll be able to assist her in locating fissionable resources.” “I’m dragging Dianna off that search.” Jarvis pulled a tablet from the bag beside him and slid it across the table...

"Where is he?" Caitlin glared at the empty seat, her finger tapping against her desk. Looking up from his papers, Quinn sighed and glanced at his friend. "I'm not surprised, considering Malark knows how much his tardiness annoys you." "Excuse me?" Caitlin's eyes narrowed as her gaze shifted to the other triumvir. Quinn shrugged with a lopsided grin. "Why do you think he's always late?" "Is expecting a degree of decorum unreasonable?" "It's not. However, if you learned to ignore his antics, he'd stop squandering our precious time." Caitlin rose and walked over to Quinn, her eyes narrowing when the door flew open. With a glance over her shoulder, she spotted the heavy-set individual waddling into the room. Caitlin huffed as she stalked back to her desk. Before she returned to her seat, the new arrival entered and spoke with a tired voice. "I apologize for being late. A meeting with several concerned citizens occupied me." Caitlin lifted her pen as she shook her head. "Malark, it's still far too early to discuss the eventual workings of the federation that'll replace the Larian Federation." "Why's that, my dear?" Malark marched across the room and relieved his legs of the strain of supporting his bulk. Once Malark's carved chair supported his weight, the plump man withdrew a small rectangular rod. He unclipped one end of it and opened the fan. As he began fanning himself, Malark's eyes became harder as he continued. "It's been five years since the two of you founded this triumvirate. That question still lacks a satisfactory answer the people are willing to accept. They're more worried about this issue than either of you are prepared to admit." "Malark, there are more pressing concerns we have to deal with." Quinn shuffled the papers on his desk. "What you're talking about is fifteen to twenty years distant." "We disagree on that, Quinn." Caitlin narrowed her glare on Malark. "And who is we?" "Plenty of the population disagrees with you. Besides, they possess the resolve, not to mention the funding, to alter the makeup of this triumvirate." Malark fanned himself as he offered a smirk to Quinn. He recognized the deliberate threat and looked over at Caitlin. When she noticed Quinn's look, he shook his head. The objection on her lips died as she settled into her seat. Quinn returned his gaze to the pudgy man as he steepled his fingers under his chin. "What do these individuals desire to discuss with us?" "We feel that the new colonization ships need to be approved." Malark swiped his fan onto his desk. Then he tapped the fan on its uncluttered surface. "The final topic we must discuss is the codification regarding the guidelines for the equality of planets. Without those laws secured, the issue will revert to the status quo of the Larian Federation." Caitlin clenched her fists and released a breath. "You know full well every planet was equal under Larian law." "Maybe," Malark stated slowly. "It was for some, Caitlin. However, the vast majority got no equality under the law. Hence why the great colonization ships were overcrowded." "And you want to ensure the constituents such a law will exist." Quinn raised his hands and leaned back in his chair. Malark leaned forward, closing his fan. "I do." "You realize we'll have to manufacture more warships to protect the smaller colonization ships as a result." Quinn tapped a scrap of paper in front of him...

A shot whizzed over Fenton's head, driving him to the ground. Earth beside him detonated, showering him as alarms shrieked from the ramp. His lips curled into a snarl as his eyes whipped up. "Why are you firing at friendlies?" "Careful, Fenton. It's been volatile since your departure." Fenton climbed to his feet and brushed the dirt off his clothes. He waved his squad on and resumed his jog. "How hectic was it since we left?" "Nothing you'd call stable." Jarvis's gaze swept the compound as Fenton's team marched through the makeshift checkpoint. His jaw tightened before he spun about and strode up the ramp. "But we need to talk, and everyone else needs to join the effort to build the wall around this boat. Use any materials you can find." Rubbing his temples with ragged fingers, Fenton followed his commander into the vessel. "What aren't you telling me?" "There's too much to discuss." At the top of the ramp, Jarvis hurried into a side chamber, claimed the closest seat, and grabbed the tablet off the table. "I believe you mentioned filling a storage assembly." With a nod, Fenton withdrew the device and traded it for the pad. "Tarian's warnings should provide answers with enough study, but for the time being hint at our welcome." "We had to repel coordinated raids." Jarvis sighed as he connected the assembly to a screen. Once the logs filled the display, he skimmed through them. When he finished, his eyebrows crept up. "It looks like creatures similar to those that attacked us devastated the original colony." "Have you found any reports on trees?" Jarvis's head turned away from the text as his lips pursed. "What?" Fenton jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "On our return to the ship, a pair of them charged my team." "You mean the forest tried to assault you?" With a grim shake, Fenton wrung his fingers and patted his rifle. "I meant what I said. They walked, spoke, and attempted to kill us. Though neither were expecting our weaponry." "Are you serious?" Fenton nodded and slipped his weapon off his shoulder. "The creature's bark, or rather skin, ignited upon impact. When the attacking creatures couldn't douse the flames, they dashed through the trees, still trying to extinguish themselves. Then the forest answered with a tremor beneath our boots." "You said multiple ones attacked you?" "Once the initial pair disappeared, another group emerged and chased my team, and if not for leapfrogging, they would have run us down." Fenton rested his head against the bulkhead and slammed his fist against the metal. With a huff, he turned and lifted the tablet. "But enough about our experience. Based upon our greeting, should I assume you encountered something just as bizarre?" Jarvis snatched the pad and tapped it against the table. His gaze dropped to the device as he released his breath. "Do two waves of green-skinned creatures count?" One of Fenton's eyes widened as he claimed a seat. "Green men tried to overrun the ship?" "They ranged from tiny to gigantic." Jarvis stared at the bulkhead with a vacant expression. "And I'm afraid I underestimated them...

Solomon withdrew a photo from his vest, its corners worn. Even as he scanned the corridor, he studied the woman’s features. The smile looked careless and alive. He covered her hazel eyes with his thumb and held them a second longer than necessary. He flipped the photo and reread the message. The ink pressed hard enough to leave grooves. Please save Sandra. Peering down the hall, he saw an ajar door. He folded the photo once and slid it back into place, as if returning something fragile to a vault, and retrieved a small periscope. He brought the device to his eye and inched closer. Through the gap, he saw a filthy woman chained to the far wall. It took him seconds to see through the grime, but he’d found Sandra. However, she wasn’t alone. In the middle of the chamber, a different woman tended a bubbling cauldron. As she stirred the contents, she tossed in fresh ingredients. After swallowing a litany of curses, he tilted his periscope toward the ceiling, revealing three crouched shapes overhead. To her left, three winged creatures dangled from the ceiling, talons hooked into makeshift perches. As Solomon’s scowl deepened, he let his gaze linger on the monsters, studying the scaled hide stretched over their bones. Solomon stepped away from the open door as he shoved his periscope back into its place. He ejected the magazine from his rifle and tucked it under his arm as he leaned against the wall, tilting his weapon toward the ceiling. He cupped his right hand over the ejection port while he pulled the charging handle back, ejecting the round from the weapon. After catching the bullet, he eased the breach closed and slid it into the magazine. He skimmed through the loaded magazines on his chest. When he found the one with a thin line of red electrical tape, he exchanged them. Solomon rolled his neck as he depressed the release and inserted the magazine. After removing his thumb, he tugged on the inserted mag, ensuring it was seated correctly before pulling the charging handle back to load his initial shot. With his weapon prepared for the encounter, Solomon took a deep breath before slipping his fingers into the opening. A heartbeat later, he flung the door open and hopped into the doorway, his rifle trained on the woman standing behind the cauldron. Despite keeping his weapon trained on the wiry and deranged woman, Solomon shifted his gaze to Sandra. “You’re going to release the woman you kidnapped now.” “Or what, you will shoot me? Your reputation precedes you. You slaughter beasts without hesitation. But you do not shoot people, even if you believe them to be wicked.” The woman added a measured pinch of powder to the cauldron. She finally lifted her eyes, filled with madness and certainty. “You’re bound by meaningless morals...

“Fenton, where are you all?” “We are heading back to camp.” The squadron leader clamped a hand on his radio and signaled his team to stop. “Jarvis, unless you’re planning on diverting us to investigate another mystery, learn how to relax.” “Don’t be snippy. Your report is the bedrock of our expedition.” Fenton scanned his squad and motioned them forward. “We’re heading back from the ruins.” “Why are you all dragging out this quick jaunt?” Shandri grabbed Fenton’s shoulder, her fingernails digging into him. “Did he actually say that?” With an explosive sigh, Fenton pushed Drew’s back, driving him forward. Drew grumbled as he glared back at Fenton before continuing his march. After several heartbeats, Fenton took a few slow breaths and squeezed the radio. “Please tell me you saw what that woman considers brief.” “I’m aware of the actual distance.” “Then stop giving us grief for the delay,” Fenton’s gaze drifted to Shandri. “Do us a favor and educate Diana on the correct definition of a reasonable jaunt.” “That’s already done. What do you have for me?” Fenton’s head swayed as he resumed. “Can’t you wait until we’re back?” “I need to know what happened to the previous colonists.” Fenton groaned and wiped the sweat from his face with his forearm. “That’s not a straightforward question.” “Were you able to discover any valuable information?” “Something tore through the colony’s perimeter and leveled most of its buildings. You’ll have to wait for our return to get our detailed report.” Fenton kicked a stray stone into the forest as he released his weapon and pulled the storage device from his vest. The added logs made the device heavier. “I skimmed enough to know you wouldn’t have approved this jaunt to begin with. The ship had limited power. I copied what I could before leaving.” “I didn’t realize you brought a storage device. How extensive are the logs? How much of the database were you able to retrieve with your portable unit?” A shiver ran down Fenton’s back as a branch cracked deep in the forest, echoing Tarian’s warning. He examined the forest’s shadows. “Well, the first entry I found was from a man named Tarian, the expedition’s leader.” “What did it say?” Fenton’s head snapped to his right while shoving the device into his vest. He brought his rifle up and inspected the undulating shadows. Fenton stepped away from the trees, clearing his throat, “He spent most of that entry documenting the forest. Then he wrote about the ‘things,’ his word, that moved inside it. We haven’t reviewed enough of the tattered logs to understand what we’re dealing with.” “Fenton, you’re more seasoned than that. What’s got you on edge?” “You won’t get all the details over the radio. All I have is what I read and a gut feeling. We’ll return from our short walk soon, and then you’ll be able to read the logs and form your own opinion.” Fenton lowered his rifle, spun around, and scurried after his squadron. Fenton switched the channel on his radio, silencing Jarvis. “Everyone fall in on me on the double!” Ignoring the confirmations, Fenton continued his march. When the last member of his team fell into step with him, Fenton stopped and leaned against a tree. “Has anyone seen anything interesting in the forest?” “No,” several members replied. Drew shouldered his rifle as he scrutinized the surrounding undergrowth. “What did you spot?” “Nothing,” Fenton’s fingers crept along his gun, ejecting the power cell. His eyes flicked to the cartridge’s indicator, and he slammed it into place. “Probably just the wind.” “Forget that.” Alec poked the bulge in Fenton’s vest. “Ever since you skimmed those logs, you’ve been different. What’s in there?” Fenton brushed Alec’s arm aside and drew in a sharp breath. “I said I’m fine. Besides, we don’t have time to talk about this. Jarvis is getting punchy...

Doubt lodged deep into Caitlin's mind over the world she had urged them to seize. Housing charts shifted weekly, but supply rosters never stabilized. Fists pounded tables in every hall as arguments spilled into the streets. Each proposal dissolved into shouting before it reached a vote. Unity became a relic of polite conversation, the way it vanished with the Federation. She recognized many familiar faces, all hard workers, but tonight they looked ready to turn on her. No one tried to meet her gaze. For a moment, even Quinn avoided her. As she slumped in her chair, her mind sought an answer, but she kept circling back to the fact that everything had changed. The loudest voices carried an edge she had never heard before. Caitlin dug through her notes and hoped the meeting would be more productive. As the clamor grew, she leaned over to Quinn, covering her microphone. "Is it too late to change our minds?" Quinn flashed her a satisfied grin as he patted her back. "Yes, we made the decision, and it stands." With a groan, Caitlin began tapping her mic, and the raucous crowd stilled, one stray voice at a time. When silence settled upon the hall, she addressed the latest batch of concerns. "Every attempt to debate the efficacy of rebuilding what was lost is a moment we cannot recover." Her gaze swept across the gathered colonists as she drew a breath. "While I agree in principle that things must be altered, it's a discussion that's not relevant in our current circumstances. We are shelving the idea of colonizing other worlds and reforming the Federation. We need to build a solid foundation for our home. Once we've established our new world, we'll shift our focus back to the stars." "You're the one who brought us here! You don't get to decide what comes next!" A man shouted. Several others rose to their feet, voices cracking with anger. "We cannot fracture. We need unity that holds." Caitlin raised her hands, urging everyone to calm down. When the talking ceased, she folded them on the table. "Our immediate need involves developing our new home. Once complete, we'll adjust our platforms to work without the requirement of going through the Larian hub. And remember, the Federation is gone. As my esteemed colleague said, nothing is shielding us." Caitlin gestured at Quinn before she pressed her palms to the table. "We have a dire need for proper ships if we're ever to protect this fledgling coalition. We must deal with our greatest threat, not gamble on distant futures." Nodding, Quinn stood up and greeted the crowd with a smile, "Everyone here knows I opposed this plan, but after working with Caitlin, I realize this is our only genuine option." "What should we do first?" asked another nameless voice from the group. Caitlin drew a sharp breath as she leaned forward. "We need to establish clear leadership so we can advance in a united fashion." A murmur rolled through the chamber, hardening into a chant. Several seconds later, Caitlin and Quinn nodded when they recognized the demand. "Create a triumvirate...

Fenton peered around a tree trunk, leveling his rifle at the ruins in the clearing. He dropped his eye to his scope and studied the damaged structures. With a few adjustments, the distant images snapped into focus, pulling a curse from his lips. He touched the comm jutting from his ear and slid down to the ground. “Everyone fall in on my signal, double time.” Rolling to a knee, Fenton examined the crumbling walls. As the silence lingered, he spun away from the devastation and sat down to watch his squad’s arrival. When the last member of the squad approached, Fenton rose and wiped his face. “Anyone discover anything dangerous during the brief walk?” “We...” Shandri turned around. “Need to correct Diana’s definition of that term.” “Quiet!” Fenton jerked his thumb at the ruins. “What oddities did we encounter?” After a series of negatives rang out, Fenton nodded. He shouldered his rifle and walked through the trees toward the ragged structure. “No matter, I’m sure Jarvis is already cataloging whatever wildlife we missed. Let’s hustle over there and explore the remains of our ancestors’ colony.” “What are we looking for?” Fenton snickered as his eyes studied the path. He patted a tree and smirked at the woman behind him. “Brianna, I thought our mission was self-evident. We’re here to discover what happened to that outpost.” “Is anyone else nervous that we haven’t come across any wildlife?” Drew asked as his head spun, attempting to focus in every direction at once. Brianna shoved her shoulder into Drew’s back with a chuckle. “Don’t be jumpy.” He jumped, training his weapon on her. Brianna batted his rifle away. “Calm down! The landing wasn’t stealthy. I’m sure all the critters and creatures scampered away. Before long, we’ll run into all the mysterious things Dyrk and Diana discovered from orbit.” “Their descriptions make me uncomfortable.” Drew lifted his gun while resuming his meticulous inventory of the surroundings. “The simple reasons are most often the right ones.” Fenton ran his hands along the fragmented edge. He punched the wall and turned to face his team. With a deep breath, Fenton jerked his head toward the damaged barrier. “While there is some decay, it’s obscuring the actual source of the damage.” “What happened?” Shandri asked, examining the rupture. “Among everything else, an explosion devastated the remains.” Fenton wiped his face as his gaze slipped to the structure’s interior. “What?!” Alek stalked to the gap and traced the devastation arrayed along the breach. “Why would our ancestors bomb themselves? What could have prompted that decision?” Fenton pointed at a building in the distance. “Morris, you take Brianna and Shandri and inspect that structure.” “What’s our job?” Drew asked. Fenton shook his head and gestured at another form. “We’re examining that.” The skittish man squealed as he leapt back from the colony wall...

As the sun crypt up the sky, Ramas shook his head. With every motion, the wanderer’s helm softened and elongated. Within moments, the steel had transformed from a protective piece of armor into a hooded cloak. When the edge of the garment reached his calves, he pulled it tightly around his shoulder before pulling the hood down to obscure his milky white eyes. With a sudden inhalation, he emerged from the shadows, stepping onto the town’s main thoroughfare and weaving between the early risers. Halfway down the street, someone emerged from a crossing path and stepped in front of Ramas, forcing the wanderer to stop. Prior to scanning the area, the stranger leaned in so closely that Ramas could discern the man’s last meal. “What kept you?” Ramas’s shoulders relaxed as he identified his mark upon the newcomer. With an obscured smile, his hooded eyes soaked in everything despite their deformity. “I’m not that late, Jandar.” Ramas inched closer as he ran his thumb across his lips as he lowered his gaze to the ground. “Besides, Emily’s soldiers are everywhere. In order to avoid them, I needed to take a circuitous route, which delayed my arrival slightly. However, I’m not exceedingly late.” “I would have rather you had gotten here earlier than you did.” “That’s a detail we can bicker about later.” Ramas reached out, grasping his informant’s shirt as his head bobbed. “For now, let’s focus on the actual issue, Emily’s soldiers. Is their presence here an abnormality? Or does she truly enjoy the support she’s apparently receiving in this section of the continent?” “We cannot talk out here,” Jandar said, grabbing Ramas’s arm. With a gentle tug, he retreated down the side path, dragging the wanderer behind him. Every time Ramas pressed about their destination, Jandar would raise a finger, forestalling the discussion. After the third silent rebuke, Ramas resigned himself to following his informant on their own circuitous path through the city. After what felt like hours, Jandar pulled up beside a secluded and unkempt building. His head whipped about as he reached for the door’s handle. “Once we’re inside, we’ll have ample privacy for our inflammatory discussion.” Ramas tugged his hood as he stared at the establishment’s wall. With his altered sight, the solid structure was nothing more than lightly packed sand suspended in glass, letting him make out the collections of stars just beyond the barrier. His fists clenched as he silently ground his teeth. When his gaze shifted back to Jandar, the similar cluster beside him confirmed the ambush. With a groan, Ramas freed himself from Jandar’s grasp. “Why did we have to come here?” “Emily has many spies,” Jandar said, opening the building’s door and ushering Ramas inside. “Inside, we won’t have to worry about them. We can have candid conversations.” Ramas released a pent-up breath as he sauntered into the doorway. He lingered in the opening for a couple of heartbeats before he thumped the frame. “Jandar, you’ve worked with me for many seasons. Must we talk inside?” “You need to come inside so we can talk.” “No,” Ramas said, unclenching his fists...

“That was one of the best landings I've ever had,” Dyrk said as he powered down the ship. He unbuckled and stretched his arms overhead. "After establishing base camp, what do you expect Jarvis's first course of action will be?" His co-pilot turned toward him, pulling her legs tightly into her chest. "We're a good hike from the remains of the previous ship. I’d say it's even odds that Jarvis’s first order will be dispatching a team to explore the remnants or cataloging the local wildlife." "Let's find out." Dyrk activated the internal comm with a shrug. "Jarvis, as you can guess, we've touched down. However, that brings my expertise to a close. What's first on my new agenda?" "How far away is the missing ship?" "It's a bit of a stroll," Diana replied as she worked at her console. When her fingers stilled, she leaned back as her mouth curled into a tight smile. "I've sent everything to your system. You can debate the distance shortly." The silence broke with a curse from Jarvis. "In what special world is that considered a stroll? That’s more of a day’s march than a casual walk. Couldn't you have gotten us closer to it?" Diana stared through the windshield and studied the surrounding forest. The swaying limbs calmed as the landing winds died off. A flock of strange birds launched from the trees, darting off towards the horizon. As she watched the creatures disappear, her hands clapped as she leaned toward the clear barrier. "I selected this location because it was the only suitable site that would allow us to maintain the integrity of what we're searching for." "Dyrk claims he could land anywhere." "He could have landed on top of the vessel and destroyed crucial evidence." Diana sighed and collapsed into her chair. Her eyes darkened as she lifted a finger. "Which isn’t our primary task." "Fine. Help establish base camp instead of combing through the local wildlife." "On it, Jarvis," Dyrk replied, shutting off the comms. He rose and tugged her arm. "You heard the boss." "I heard his orders," she replied, pointing at her display, "but something about those creatures appears strange." "We knew this rock wasn't like home," Dyrk opened the cockpit's door and jerked his thumb through the opening. "But you've been given orders." Her hands flew across her console as she returned to the seat. Dyrk jostled her shoulder. "We have to get moving." "Those weren't birds." Diana jumped up and pressed her face to the windshield. "They were winged lizards." The creatures sliced across the sky with practiced precision. Nothing about their flight suggested surprise, panic, or fear. Dyrk ambled to her chair, his jaw tightening. "That's a terrifying concept. Are you telling me dragons exist on this already dangerous planet?" Diana spun and shouldered her way past Dyrk as she fled the cockpit. Dyrk's eyes fell to her console, studying Diana's scans of the creatures. A knock tore his attention away, and he jumped back, hands flying to his chest. Diana snickered and leaned against the doorframe, "A little jumpy, aren't we?" "Do you enjoy scaring people like that?" With a wink, she left, and without looking back, she said, "Weren't you talking about following orders?" "Yeah, I mentioned that." Dyrk ambled towards the doorway, his stride lengthening with each step. As he stepped through, hands slammed into his chest.

"Declan, the colony is just about finished how goes placing the platform?" Declan looked up from the platform's glowing red center with dread pouring visibly from his face. "Brielle, we have a problem." Brielle looked from the worried platform technician to the glowing red crystal next to his knees, and she began to take on his concern. "Declan, these platforms don't have issues." Swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, Declan looked up and explained, "There's only a single reason why the crystal glows red, and we all know what it is." "Stay here, Declan," Brielle commanded as she nodded her head. She abruptly spun away from Declan and raced off towards the captain of the colonization ship. She raced through the corridors as fast as she could, and she just managed to avoid all of the tight corners and the occasional colonist roaming the halls. She ran until she eventually came to the new colony's civic center. The captain always worked from there while they established a new world for the Federation. Once she found the right doors, she paused outside so she could catch her breath. When she was able to breathe naturally, she opened the door, and her eyes immediately found the captain. She walked up to him and reported her dire news. "Captain Quinn, something has happened to the homeworld." Confusion settled into the captain's face with her words prompting him to ask, "Brielle, what are you going on about?" "The platform's crystal is glowing red, sir." The captain's face went white as he began to process those words. He looked at Brielle and with great hesitation sought confirmation. "Red, you're sure?" "Yes, sir," Brielle answered as she forced a lump down her throat. Quinn lifted a hand and snapped a finger as he cried out, "Connor!" A man poked his head into the room, saying, "Yes, sir?" Quinn looked at the young man and commanded, "Get my portable communication pack, we need to raise homeworld." "Yes, sir." the disembodied head replied. "Connor, I wanted it here an hour ago understood?" "Yes, sir." The man responded as his head disappeared, letting the door fall closed behind him. Quinn looked at Brielle and tapped his fingers on his desk. She hesitantly watched his fingers as they continued their dance upon the wooden surface, but she slowly averted her gaze to his solemn and scared eyes. "Sir, has anything like this ever happened before?" Quinn looked up and stared into her eyes as he answered, "No, no one has, but we all know what it means." He saw the unease behind her eyes, so he offered her what little comfort he could. "This could be a glitch on homeworld's platform. All we know is we cannot connect to this platform's twin back home. They could have taken it offline." Before Brielle could say anything, the door flew open and Connor came in with the portable communication device placing it on the desk and stepping away, allowing Quinn access to the device. Quinn quickly configured the device to communicate with the homeworld and tried to connect. When the first attempt failed, he made other attempts, but each failed. Faltering Quinn attempted to connect to other worlds in the Federation. And with each failed attempt to contact other colonized planets, the fear behind Quinn's eyes grew. Quinn looked between Connor and Brielle and spoke at them both, "Go fetch Caitlin and the other senior colonists. We'll need to come to a decision."

Dyrk adjusted the craft’s trajectory and then flipped the communication switch. “Is anyone manning the comm back home, control?” “Yes, we’re still here.” Diana jostled Dyrk’s shoulder as she deactivated the comm. Narrowing her eyebrows, Diana tapped her armrest and sighed, “Were you expecting them not to be listening?” He licked his lips and drummed his console as he winked at her. “I figured everyone manning control might be on a break.” Diana slid forward and covered the microphone. “You’re aware we’re retracing the colonization vessel’s trajectory. And it vanished the moment it entered this atmosphere, right?” “I’m aware of the history.” He peeled her hand from the comm before reactivating the system and clearing his throat. “We’ve located the remains of the colonization ship.” “Any signs of survivors?” Dyrk’s tongue ran across his lips as he scrolled through the results of the scans. “Wendell, I’m uploading a full copy of the report now. But while you’re waiting, I can describe the eclectic array of life on this rock for you.” “Please do,” Wendell muttered. Dyrk took a slow breath, refreshing his display. As the records flowed across the screen, a whistle leapt from his lips. “While there are plenty of creatures that look familiar and would have been brought with the colonization team, they’re outnumbered by the creatures I don’t recognize.” Silence filled the spaceship’s cockpit, and just before it became uncomfortable, Wendell’s voice shattered it. “Repeat that.” Dyrk rubbed his eyes and leaned toward the comm. “The majority of the lifeforms on the planet appear to have been plucked from popular fiction.” “Excuse me?” Dyrk pressed his back into his seat and folded his hands. “Are you aware of the fantasy novels that have been popular these days?” “What about them?” Dyrk flexed his fingers as he reached for the controls. “You’ll need a sampling of them to identify the more unusual creatures in the report.” “You’re not making any sense.” Dyrk shook his head and tapped the microphone. “Wendell, that’s not the strangest thing.” “And what would that be?” His fingers flicked to the bottom of the report as he gnawed his lip. He released a pent-up breath and tapped the screen. “We’ve performed multiple checks and keep getting the same results...

Sebastian stepped up to the railing as he studied the gleaming ocean. A second later, he looked over at his friend and clapped his shoulder. “How are you doing, Jimmy?” A wry chuckle emanated from his friend’s mouth as his cupped hands slid up to his chest. He peered at Sebastian while keeping his eyes on what he was holding. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” “We’re taking a trip. What’s there to feal bad about?” Sebastian asked as he slapped the railing. He leaned against it and thumped Jimmy’s chest. “We’re about to enjoy a cruise. Can’t you relax?” Jimmy opened his hands, revealing a frog. “I’m pretty sure this fellow is bad luck.” Rolling his eyes, Sebastian rose and gripped Jimmy’s shoulder as he wiggled his finger over the animal. “What are you talking about!? It’s just a frog. You can’t provide for the thing. Why not release it?” “It’s mine,” Jimmy said, pulling the frog away from Sebastian. “When I first grabbed it, I thought it was lucky. However, ever since, I’ve had nothing but a run of bad luck.” “What are you babbling about now? It’s just a frog!” “No sooner had I picked it up than a seagull nearly slammed into my head.” “You grabbed the thing’s lunch,” Sebastian said, slapping his friend’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “What did you expect...

The council members sat in the hall, whispering among themselves as they waited for the session to begin. As the whispers grew, one voice sliced through the din. “There’s no scheduled vote today. Why are we here?” “I called everyone here to discuss the failed attempt to colonize Morven.” The statement silenced the council as the lights dimmed, and millions of bluish-white spheres emerged from the central dais. When the orbs coalesced into an imposing figure, it inclined its head, pressing its hands together. “Long ago, some of our forefathers sent an expedition to our sister planet to form a colony.” A councilor stood, clearing her throat. “Chancellor, while it’s unfortunate that some of our ancestors vanished in the foolhardy expansion, we should leave well enough alone and ignore Morven.” The towering holographic Chancellor bowed toward the council member. “That’s been our mantra since we lost contact.” “We don’t want to risk a second expedition to that cursed world!” Another councilman cried out as he slapped his thighs. “Distracting our thoughts with an attempt to re-colonize our sister planet is a mistake,” a distinct voice declared. As a hush descended on the council chambers, a woman rose and leaned upon the railing. The silence lingered for an instant before she clasped her hands to her chest. “There are too many issues here that require our entire attention.” The hologram cleared its throat as it scanned every councilor in the auditorium. When the holographic eyes latched onto the standing woman, the figure widened its stance. “We have established programs to address each of those concerns, Jasmine.” “And you’re aware of the positive reaction to those initiatives,” she said. The Chancellor waved her worries away and addressed the room. With a smile, the hologram lifted an admonishing finger. “It is long past the time we discovered what befell our kin. We can no longer bury our heads in the comfort of our own affairs. We must explore the planet whose orbit we share.” Another councilor stood and clapped methodically. The mocking echoes silenced the murmurs as he offered the hologram a false grin. He waggled a finger as he descended to the edge of the dais. “However, you’re not being honest with us...

Wan moonlight bathed a stocky man’s pale arms as he leaned against the metallic rails, whistling a simple tune. “Anton, stop making that awful racket!” The sporadic notes stopped as Anton twisted his head and pushed against the railing. “Norman, the silence is eerie.” Anton marched across the deck and swatted the consol. “Why don’t you have a radio or satellite on this boat?” “You weren’t hired to be entertained.” Norman released his grip on the yoke and pointed at an indention in the massive frozen cliff. “I enlisted you to assist me with my cargo. Besides, there aren’t many options available when you’re this far removed from civilization.” “Whatever, Norman,” Anton said, waving his hand as he sauntered back to the rail, staring at the looming glaciers. “Can you explain why we fled the civilized world?” Anton chewed his lips as he wrapped his fingers around the metal bar. “Specifically, why you are steering us right into a hunk of ice.” “We’re out here to dump my cargo in my decontamination facility.” “Out here in a glacier?” A dark smile spread while Norman throttled the ship’s engine. As the craft approached the icy wall, he spun the wheel, guiding the ship into the gap, plunging them into darkness. “Fortunately, out here the world’s pesky regulations don’t exist.” Distant howls ripped through the tranquil atmosphere, chasing a shudder down Anton’s spine. With shallow breaths, his whitening fingertips dug into the boat. Closing his eyes, Anton took a few deep breaths and twirled his hand toward the star-filled sky. “It’s creepy navigating through all these massive chunks of ice. With the pale light, those cliff-faces look like giant gravestones.” Norman turned off the engine and pulled a slender stick from the console. With a crack, a sickly green illumination leapt from the tube, chasing away the darkness. With a series of quick motions, Norman cracked another rod and tossed it on the approaching dock. Norman sauntered to the bow and twisted a section of rope off the cleat. When the vessel crept alongside the small metal wharf, Norman hopped on, securing his craft. “Privacy, is as precious as gold in most cases.”

"Hurry!" Keldon barked as he lifted his side of the beam. "We have to fix the wall before the horde can flood in and wipe us out." Caleb lifted the other end and grunted. "You'd think looming devastation might revive Tarian's mind." "That's enough, Caleb!" Keldon glanced over his shoulder as he hefted the slab of metal. With a slight stumble, he shot Caleb a wicked glare. "Lloyd's death hit him hard. I doubt anything will bring him out of his funk anytime soon. Now be careful, or I'll end up breaking my neck." Caleb slowed as he shook his head. "It's remarkable those monsters haven't attacked yet." "Be thankful for small favors." Keldon glanced over his shoulder as the beam fought his grasp. "Wayne, please assist us in getting this into position." When the weight lessened, Keldon whipped around and found Tarian beside him. "Allow me to assist you. After all, you've helped me carry my burdens lately." Keldon burst into laughter, but his foot caught on a rock, and he tumbled to the ground. "Under normal circumstances, I'd lend you a hand, Keldon," Tarian said as his arms twitched. "But I trust you appreciate why I've refused to help out." "Don't worry about it." Keldon propped himself up while he rubbed his heel. He staggered to his feet, waving at the crowd of people sealing the breach in the wall. "Please take your time," Caleb said, sweat erupting from his brow. "It's so much fun holding up this slab of metal." "I'll forgive you, Tarian." Keldon grabbed the beam and glared at the man across from him. "Caleb, it's good to know you're enjoying yourself. But how about we hurry up and seal that breach?" "Funny," Caleb said as his eyes narrowed. "Thank you for picking up the slack," Tarian said as the men resumed their march. "Tarian, I'd be happy to have this conversation with you," Keldon started as he tightened his grip on the beam. "But can we wait until we've brought this over to Wayne's crew?" "Sure," Tarian said...

A paw slammed to the ground, crushing the scattered remnants of the surrounding trees. With a grumble, a furry beast emerged from the forest’s edge. As the animal strode from the protection of the forest, it halted when the crunching twigs and leaves gave way to an undulating sea of purple flowers. While the massive creature stared at the field, the sun’s golden rays crested the distant mountains and raced toward the swaying plants, bathing them with their first meal of the day. With each passing moment, the din of the forest diminished. As the silence intensified, the bear rose to its hind legs while ripples washed over its body. When the rippling ceased and the last of the dark fur receded, a stout man stepped closer to the flowers, running his hand through his thick hair. As the individual stood there, the chattering wind chipped away at the nascent stillness like a chisel striking a stone. “Lander, why are you here?” Without tearing his gaze from the ever-shifting lavender carpet, Lander reached up and interlaced his fingers behind his head. “Neville, why are you bothering me?” “You shouldn’t be here wasting your time.” “Where should I be?” “Preparing for the fight looming over us.” The towering figure turned to Neville, his lips drawing into a harsh line. “Is there a problem with my separating myself from the inevitable maelstrom to bathe in the sight of something beautiful?” The newcomer rushed forward, pinching the bridge of his nose before gripping Lander’s arm with rough fingers. “Nobody thinks you have to abandon things of beauty.” “Then, before we rush into something terrible, stand here with me and appreciate this moment.” “While I agree,” Neville said as his hand swept across the violet field, “that this is a stunning view. You have responsibilities that require your personal attention.” Sucking his lip, Lander tapped Neville’s hand with a loose fist...

Tarian clambered to the wall's edge and stared into the barren field. When he discovered a solitary figure, his fingers turned white around the gray stones. "That's a massive creature. What is it? When did it arrive?" "I'm not sure what's out there, but it's been there since the sun came up," Keldon said, closing his eyes. "Keldon, who's our best surviving sharpshooter?" Tarian's gaze turned ice cold as his lips curled into a snarl. "Bring that individual here and destroy that monster!" Keldon lifted his telescope and studied the distant creature. When the scope lowered, he tapped it against the wall. "Given the recent attack, there's a significant chance it's a shapeshifter." "Does it matter what it is?" Sherry stepped in front of Keldon, her hands on hips. "Tarian's right. One of our marksmen could end the threat." "I'm more concerned with whatever's beyond our field of view." Keldon laid a hand on Tarian's shoulder, pulling him close. "That thing's the tip of the oncoming storm." Sherry threaded her fingers through her hair as she stared at the creature. "Why are you trying to distract us from the simple solution?" Keldon's fist slammed the wall as he glared at Sherry. "We're not in a position to defend ourselves from another assault." Sherry blanched as she gripped her chest. "We're prepared for this kind of situation, right?" "Unfortunately, Lloyd's dead." Tarian stepped up to the wall and examined the towering monster. With a hiss, Tarian spun around and leaned against the wall, collapsing to the floor. "Besides, a pair of shapeshifters tried to steal a significant amount of our ordnance...

Shawn glanced from the assignments in front of him to his watch. He laid his pen down and folded his hands on the pile of papers, “Zachary, you’re the last one here, and your time has expired. Please turn in your exam and start your weekend.” “Can I take another minute?” Shawn shook his head and thumped his desk, “You are out of time. I’ve already given you an extra thirty minutes, now give me your test, or I’ll be forced to reward your hard work with a zero.” Zachary slipped his pen behind his ear with a groan and strolled up to Shawn’s desk. He dropped his exam next to the assignments his professor was correcting, “Thank you for giving me what you could. Do you have anything planned for the weekend, aside from grading those?” Shawn grinned and lifted Zachary’s test and slipped it into a drawer. He locked it and propped his chin on a hand, “Normally I would grade these tests tonight. However, this time that’s a job for my teacher’s assistant, because I’ve got important plans for the weekend.” “Did you finally find a new place?” Zachary looked around the lecture hall as he shoved his hands into his pockets, “Cause living in a university lecture hall is a little strange.” Shawn’s fingers drummed on his desk while his other hand stabbed toward the door, “Run along, Zachary, and enjoy your weekend.” “Bye, Professor,” Zachary retorted as he rushed to the exit. He walked out of the auditorium, bumping into a woman. The young man looked away and tipped his head, “I’m sorry, are you looking for Professor Tillman...

Tarian lifted his head from the desk as the alarm blared. With a groan, he turned toward the noise. When he couldn't locate the source of the racket, he started blinking the sleep away and stumbled toward the window. He leaned on the sill and saw the ordnance storehouse lights flashing across the field. As his gaze tracked the beams, the scene made sense. Tarian spun and bolted from his quarters. When he burst out of the building, Tarian dashed toward the depot. As he crossed the courtyard, a hand yanked him to a stop. Tarian reached back, grabbed the stranger and twisted his arm behind his back. "What are you doing?" "Nothing," Lloyd said with a whimper, his face paling. He raised his free hand in surrender. "However, you rushing headlong into an unknown raid isn't one of your better ideas." As Tarian relaxed his grip, he spun toward the armory as his hand flew to his side. He reached for his sidearm, but his fingers brushed an empty belt. A curse flew from his mouth as he whirled toward Lloyd. "Do you have a spare gun?" "You're lucky you ran into me first." Lloyd drew a handgun and thrust it toward Tarian. "Next time the alarm blares, you might remember to secure your sidearm before you try to take on a mystery unarmed." "That's enough," Tarian said as he took the weapon. After a brief check, he aimed the small firearm at the depot and inched forward. "You shouldn't be the first to enter," Lloyd said, pulling Tarian's shoulder. With a few long strides, Lloyd pulled ahead of Tarian and placed an ear against the depot's door...

“Didn’t you learn your lesson last time?” The man peering down the chasm smiled, waving his arms over his head. He glanced down at a collection of stones, and knocked them off the ledge, watching them plummet toward the lake. When the rocks plunged into the tranquil water, ripples spread across the surface. He turned around and scampered to his friend, resting his cast on the guy’s back. “Ethan, why are you worried?” “Daniel, you broke your arm the last time you tried making that jump!” Daniel pulled Ethan closer, smirking as he nudged his friend’s shoulder. “You make it sound so unpleasant.” Ethan pushed Daniel away, as he thrust his hand toward the far side of the gorge. “That gap’s over ten feet wide, and I’ll remind you of two things. First, your earlier try came up short and second you almost killed yourself when you plummeted thirty feet into the lake.” “Bah,” Daniel waved his cast over his head as he hustled back to the gap and peered into the calm water. “I can see the rock outcropping that gave me this lovely billy club.” He turned, waving Ethan over to the ledge as he pointed at the still lake. “To avoid a similar mishap, I’ll jump over the darkest patch of water...

Keldon grabbed Tarian's shoulder and spun him around, slamming him against the wall. His brow furrowed as he took a deep breath. Keldon jabbed his finger into Tarian's chest. "Tarian, you can't keep bothering the scientists." "Caleb secured their live sample of that shifting monstrosity," Tarian said, brushing Keldon's hands off before he straightened his jacket. "Didn't you hear Caleb's report? That thing wore his face, making it even more dangerous." "I know," Keldon said, stepping back and lifting his palms. "But you're not helping them." "If that monster had approached either your team or Engrim's, we wouldn't be having this conversation." Tarian rubbed his temples as his chest swelled. He grabbed Keldon's shirt and pulled him close. "So, if my constant visits help expedite their work, they're worth the headache." "But they don't!" Keldon pushed himself away from his friend, his eyes narrowing. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. Your visits cause nothing but chaos, and it takes far too long to reclaim their original calm." Tarian's face tightened as he stared into the sky. He reached for the doorknob, giving it a sharp twist before shoving the door open. "They'll survive the intrusion. It took ten darts to put that thing in its cage...

The elderly man turned his head as the pounding intensified. His fingers twitched over the flipping pages of his floating tome, a venomous snarl curling his lips. With each crash, another page tore free from the book and joined the howling, arcane storm around the frantic mage. As the sheets spun past his twitching brow, light devoured the scribbled ink. When the glow enveloped each sheet, they popped out of existence. “Thobin,” a husky voice called, punctuated by a mighty and ominous thud. “Open the door!” The man’s steely gaze whipped toward the voice. Still, his fingers danced over the whirling pages. The pounding gave way to cracking wood, a splintering rhythm that echoed through the tower. Then a sharp female voice cut through the din. “This isn’t going to end well for you!” “By a unanimous decree of the ruling council,” the gruff voice said as the pounding increased, “you are required to surrender yourself and all of your tomes to our authority.” A swirling wind whipped about Thobin, throwing his long, wild, silver-streaked hair about his head. As more pages tore from the tome, he rolled his shoulders, sending a series of cracks bouncing off the walls. “I respect neither that institution nor you. Enter at your own peril.” “Thobin, you can’t win this fight. However, if you submit yourself to our authority, you’ll be rewarded with a place on the council.” “Bah!” Thobin’s fingers whirled faster as more pages tore free from the tome. When the last page freed itself, Thobin turned to face the cracking door, hands clasped behind his back...

Reaching out, Caleb brushed the damaged branch with his fingers. He kneeled and scrutinized the ground, finding more disturbed undergrowth. He pulled out his radio and switched channels. "Engrim, where are you?" "About a click or two east of you. Have you found any signs of shapeshifters?" Caleb moved a branch out of the way and studied the markings. "I may have, and I'd like a second opinion." "Isn't Keldon leading a unit out here?" Engrim asked. Caleb clicked his tongue, rising to examine the damaged branch. He turned to his squad, raising a finger to his lips. "He headed south the moment we departed the settlement. If we wait to get his thoughts, whatever left these marks will be long gone and out of reach." "Fine, we're on our way." Caleb tore his gaze from the tracks and scanned the foliage. "Something passed through here, and it's proving difficult to determine whether the trail was accidental or deliberate. Everyone, fall in on me. Keep your heads on a swivel and be alert. I don't want to frighten off whatever is watching us." Mika tapped Caleb's shoulder as she cleared her throat. "Are we spreading out?" "Yes, though stay in sight." Caleb leveled his rifle above the agitated foliage. "It shouldn't take Engrim's team long to get here." Mika spun away from Caleb and stared into the forest's dense shadows. "And what information can you glean from the tracks?" Caleb followed the markings...

A wanderer adjusted his position against the tree. When a snowflake landed on his outstretched hand, he shook it free, climbing to his feet. The man dragged his hair from his face as he pulled his spare cloak from his pack. Without missing a beat, he wrapped it around his shoulders. He clutched his bag under the covering as he strode toward the road. As he neared it, he checked both sides of the path before easing out from the underbrush. As the snow clung to him, the man tugged the outer garment tighter about his neck and forced himself through the growing mounds. After walking for what felt like an eternity, the wanderer noticed a structure hugging the horizon, and his steps quickened. When he reached the building, his trembling hand brushed its rough stone. A grin spread as his fingers traced the chiseled rock. He cocked his head, and his smile widened when he scanned the surrounding buildings. He ignored the blacksmith and the numerous merchant establishments. When his eyes landed upon the inn, he dashed toward its entrance and yanked in vain. With a grimace, the wanderer slammed his fist against the sturdy wood. “Is anyone there!” The entrance groaned, revealing an intense gaze through the opening. “There aren’t any rooms available. You must look elsewhere.” “Please,” the wanderer cried as he wedged his foot into the opening. “No one could survive this snowstorm.” “I cannot allow you to enter,” the innkeeper replied. The man pulled a stone from his pack, flashing the brilliant green gem to the owner. “I can pay.” The innkeeper shook his head as he shoved the door. “Money isn’t the problem. This storm comes every year, and my storeroom isn’t endless. I can’t provide for you without harming my existing patrons, considering that jewel won’t fill a single belly...

Tarian threw the doors open and marched into the makeshift lab. The cracked table bore the white-fleshed creature. He pointed at the milky corpse as he pulled the scientist closer. “What can you tell me about this thing on your slab?” Francis stepped away from his work and glanced around the room at his colleagues. When he saw everyone else glance elsewhere, he cleared his throat. “We’ve found nothing definitive.” Tarian’s fist clenched as he looked at each of the scientists. When his gaze fell back on Francis, he licked his lips. “You’ve had this body for a week. Keldon told you I needed answers.” “He did,” Francis hedged. “Then why have you been dragging your heels?” Tarian inquired as he took a step towards Francis. While Tarian loomed over the scientist, he prodded the corpse’s abdomen and his finger slid into the creature. With a shudder, he pulled it out. “Rotting or not, I need answers.” “If our most sensitive equipment still worked, we’d have given you the intelligence already.” Francis wrung his hands, avoiding Tarian’s glare. Tarian wiped the frustration off his face as he backed up, licking his lips. “We don’t have that luxury.” Francis’s gaze drifted toward Tarian, the corner of his eye twitching as he tugged his collar. “Well, we triggered its flesh into changing.” “How?” “What we might’ve seen was nothing more than a twitch...

“My army surrendered!?” Namen slammed his fist against his throne, the wood shuddering beneath the blow, and snarled. “What did my cowardly force do after they laid down their weapons to these rebels?” The messenger’s hands trembled behind his back as his stoic face locked onto the King’s ornate chair. He bowed, spreading his arms like a bird in flight. “I wasn’t there to witness the results, sire. I carried only the message I was dispatched with. Do you want me to discover the fallout of the surrender?” “No, there’s nothing you can accomplish,” the King grumbled as he crumpled the missive in his fist. He flung the wadded paper at the messenger’s face. “Kameron will locate these traitors!” The messenger ducked the parchment projectile, while an advisor sitting close to the King interlaced her fingers and cleared her throat. “Your Majesty, I believe it would be best to collect any information that Baxter has before deciding on how to deal with these deserters. Consider the cost of dispatching another battalion to a captured keep.” The King’s eyes narrowed as his lips trembled. He lifted his fingers from the ornately inlaid armrest of his throne, glancing toward the ceiling, as if the spymaster could overhear him. “Baxter is troublesome enough during peaceful times. But when it comes to war, his riddles are unbearable.” “Baxter is unique.” The advisor smiled and leaned toward the King. “But he’s the best spymaster we’ve ever had.” “I’m aware, Kerri!” Namen struck his chair with both meaty fists. “But I won’t deal with him if he’s communicating with his spies. Go discover everything he’s learned about these rebels and traitors.” Kerri rose, inclining her head, and flowed across the floor. She grabbed the messenger’s arm and guided him from the meeting hall. When the door closed, she spun the fool around and slapped his face. “Why did you deliver that message straight to Namen?” “It’s my job. Last I checked, you’re just an advisor, with no authority.” The messenger’s gaze sharpened to a knife’s edge as his fingers explored his reddening cheek. After a moment, he shoved his hands behind his back. “How would Namen react if he learned you struck one of his messengers? I believe he’s ordered protection for those carrying his commands.” “True,” Kerri flicked the messenger’s nose as her lips parted, displaying her canines. She thumped his chest with two fingers. “Unfortunately for you, Namen never gave you the protection of a command. Never forget who your friends are, messenger.” Kerri spun on her heels and stormed down the hall. When she reached the nearest stairwell, she sighed and flew up the stairs. Upon reaching the door to the roof, she flung it open and stared at the man standing on the ledge, obscured by flapping butterflies, wings etched with heavy secrets, their markings whispering burdens. One landed atop an outstretched fingertip. He pulled it to his ear. She cleared her throat and marched toward him. “Baxter, I need your counsel...

Tarian sat in solitary silence, taking in the emptiness of the meeting hall. The crack ran the entire length of the conference table, and the sneering crevasse mocked him. He gripped the hilt of his dagger with white knuckles. Tarian lifted the tip of the blade and rammed it into the pockmarked slab. He twisted the knife, enlarging the hole as he took a deep breath. As the seconds ticked away, he stabbed its point into the table several times. Between strikes, the door swung inward. Keldon stepped inside, eyeing his friend’s assault on the ruined furniture before letting out a sigh. Tarian drove the blade into the wood again, and Keldon claimed an empty seat. He waited for his friend to stop, but the knife didn’t cease. He cleared his throat as he leaned toward his friend. “If everything were normal, I wouldn’t butt into your affairs.” “Why are you starting the habit?” Tarian asked as he drove the dagger into the table. Keldon lifted two fingers. “Two reasons. First, sitting here and wallowing over what’s happened for weeks isn’t healthy...