Chapter Ten

Jimmy still felt a weakness in his knees as he stood near the helm where Hima was seated. Julz was right behind him, her watchful eyes careful not to miss any sign that Jimmy might falter.

Mul-Rok sat in the Captain's chair, leaning forward with his elbows planted squarely on his knees.

"Du-Voz is coming. He's coming fast."

Hima's massive fingers played skillfully across the flatscreen keyboard in front of him. "There's nothing on the scanners, kid. Not a blasted thing."

Jimmy turned to Mul-Rok. "He's following, staying just far enough behind us to remain undetected. If the Council give him the authority he needs to make his move. We'll be too late to react. There will be no escape."

Mul-Rok glanced quickly at his daughter. He could sense the bond she'd created with Jimmy. He'd deal with that later. If Jimmy was right...

"Hima, how quickly can you get us to Earth?"

Hima stared at Mul-Rok for only a second before responding. "I've got the coordinates already set in the Nav-Com. All I need is your override code for the jump to the system."

Mul-Rok turned his gaze to Jimmy. "Our lives are in your hands, young one." He took another look at Julz, then rose from his chair and went to stand next to Hima. "Here's your code, Hima. H4TY890S1Z. Get us to Earth, now."

...

Pausha stood rigid, trying desperately to process what he'd just heard and how he would deliver the news to Du-Voz. There wouldn't be any easy way to tell him Mul-Rok's ship had made it's jump without warning.

"Maintain your present course. I'll be with the Captain."

Chapter Nine

Terraling Master Du-Voz sat in his black, throne-like command chair, his long white fingers draped over the dark fabric of the chair’s arms. Pausha was at his side, dressed in the battle armor of his people and strapped with pulse blasters on each hip.

“Sir, Master Mul-Rok’s cruiser will be in range in four minutes.” The navigator was also a Graumaling, and just as fierce looking as Pausha only female.

Du-Voz rose from his chair as he spoke, “Close the gap to two minutes, Leenak, then hold your position.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Pausha, you have the Bridge. I will be in my chamber. Do not disturb me with anything less than a catastrophe.”

“Of course, Master Du-Voz.”

Du-Voz left the Bridge of his battle cruiser and entered his private chambers without any further instructions to his crew. The Com Screen in front of his desk was already buzzing with life, the whole of the Brethren sitting before Du-Voz in the Counsel Chambers back on Terra. Du-Voz took his seat, leaning heavily on the smooth black top of his desk.

“My apologies, Brethren, for having to bring you together in such haste and at such a late hour, but the incident at hand required your immediate attention for I believe one of our own means to defect to the human world of Earth.”

“Defect? Master Du-Voz, surely you cannot believe Master Mul-Rok, one of the founding fathers of the Millennium Program, capable of such a betrayal.”

Du-Voz turned his attention to the counsel member who had spoken. He was an ancient looking Terraling, with a thin, wispy beard that hung long from the sides of his face and his chin. Du-Voz recognized him at once and inclined his head ever so slightly toward the man.

“Grand Talent Lu-Ang, of course I would not trouble the Brethren with any thing I was not prepared to support, including but not limited to the defection of a man you have treated as your own son.” The insinuation was delivered with respect, but the point was made. The Grand Talent was a biased judge on the issue, despite his seniority within the Brethren. Du-Voz smoothed his right hand across the desktop and brought the touch screen to life. While his fingers tapped the necessary links, Du-Voz continued, “The link and file now available to you is the security investigation and the footage from Hangar 42D4 earlier this evening. I know that after viewing the files, you will see an intervention is in order. I ask for nothing more than your authority to perform the intervention before Master Mul-Rok can do any real damage to our people, our mission, our way of life itself.”

Grand Talent Lu-Ang was the only member of the counsel not engrossed in the investigation file. His eyes were on Du-Voz.

“The files and your suggested course of action will be taken under review.”

A younger, senior member of the counsel now addressed Du-Voz. He knew this man as well. “That is all I ask, Master Tu-Lok. I would only add that I have Master Mul-Rok’s cruiser under surveillance and could move to intercept within two minutes, if the Brethren decide on such action.”

“Thank you, Master Du-Voz.” Tu-Lok inclined his head respectively, but Du-Voz’s eyes were locked on the Grand Talent. Lu-Ang might be a bigger problem than he anticipated.

“I await your decision, Brethren.” The Com Screen went black. Du-Voz rocked slowly back in his chair, fingers pressed together in front of his face. “Adrena.”

A female hologram rose from the black surface of the desk. “Master.”

“I need to see my son, immediately.”

“He’s already on his way, Master.”

Du-Voz smiled. “It’s unfortunate not all those who serve me, serve as faithfully and as efficient as you, Adrena.”

“You’re too kind, Master Du-Voz.” The hologram disappeared back into the desk’s dark surface.

Chapter Eight

The darkness lifted a little and in the haze Jimmy could hear a soft, soothing voice calling to him. His eyes wouldn’t open and his right arm lay limp at his side, cold as a chunk of ice. The cold spread up his arm like liquid fingers, inching toward his shoulder.

“Julz.” He heard himself say the name, but knew his lips hadn’t moved.

“I’m here.” She was close, her voice, strong and calm, brought light to the darkness fogging his mind.

“Where?”

A sudden warmth burned through his veins, starting at his right hand and chasing the cold still spreading up his arm. Her fingers slipped perfectly between his. Her skin was cool, soft, not at all what he expected. Suddenly Jimmy’s mind was racing with images of the time he’d spent on Terra, as a Select in the Millennium Program…

For the first few years, Jimmy lived in the compound with Hima and their eight bunkmates. The coursework was rigorous, the instructors were worse. Failing wasn’t an option unless you enjoyed punishment, and the punishments were harsh. Ground into them by their instructors, the Order became their life. At night, when Jimmy lay sleepless in bed, the Order disappeared, replaced by visions of home, his family, and his friends. He missed home.

Space, that final frontier he’d always dreamed about exploring was nothing like he imagined. But, and despite the reality he lived every day, his dream still lived. Perhaps even more so now that so many of his questions about space were being answered. Were there other planets, other solar systems and galaxies like his? Was there life on those planets? Was there a better, faster way to travel through the vastness of the Big Unknown?

Yes. Yes. And, oh my, yes! The answer to those questions stunned Jimmy, initially, and when the shock wore off, that same, stomach tightening excitement, that mind-consuming need to explore was still there, eagerly awaiting its opportunity for fulfillment.

And then there was Julz. Julz-Rok…

Jimmy was in his second year of the program and just starting a rigorous course of defensive tactics when he met Julz. She played an enemy in the role-play tactics tests. Julz was brutal, on everyone, powerful, cunning, and fast. Then they’d met. It was a fight talked about by everyone in the program.

“Hey, you in there, bonecrusher?”

He heard her voice again, and it ripped him from the whirlwind of memories her touch had sent him into.

“I’m here.” There was something unnatural about the way this kind of communication felt.

“Well, good, but I need you here. Can you manage that?” Concern, genuine concern flecked her usually casual tone. Something was wrong.

The cold crept slowly back into his arm, the leaden weight feeling even worse than before. “What’s wrong?”

Silence was the answer to his question. He concentrated, reached out with his mind, trying to get to Julz, to see what she was seeing, but he couldn’t find her, and then suddenly he was out of his body. A fleshless soul standing at the side of the med-unit his body was plugged into. Julz was at the control panel for the unit, punching keys as fast as her fingers could move. The life support systems seemed to be failing. Jimmy looked at his body. He looked at peace, restful, uninjured.

Suddenly Julz was screaming into the com-link. “I don’t know what’s wrong!! His vitals are all over the place!!”

“Julz.” Jimmy tried calling out to her. She paused, turning slowly around and staring at the spot where his soul stood watching her. He smiled. Even agitated as she was, rocked with fear and worry, she was beautiful.

“James?”

“I’m right here.” And suddenly he was back in his body, eyes fluttering open, and turning his head slowly to look for Julz. “Hey, everything alright?”

Julz turned, first to him, eyes wide, then to the control panel. Ya, everything was great. “I just had the strangest…” Jimmy smiled as his eyes slipped closed once again. “James? James.”

Jimmy sat up, pulling the warmer blanket around him as he did it. “We need to get to the control center, bad guys are coming.”

Chapter Seven

Med-units scurried across the hangar floor, treating the nano-tech troopers pummeled by Hima, Mul-Rok, and Julz, and then mentally disarmed and immobilized by Jimmy. Amidst the first-aid chaos stood a man draped in heavy red robes, hemmed in gold and that sapphire blue like the blood inking every Terraling’s veins. The man’s face hid in shadow under the heavy hood drawn up over his head.

"Your orders, Master?”

Terraling Master Du-Voz turned to look at the Graumaling Select standing off to his right, the Select careful not to obstruct his Master's view of the empty hangar. The Graumaling was a fierce looking sinewy humanoid with agate colored skin. Thick tufts of quill-like black hair sprouted from his shoulders like patches of grass and ran down the center of his back and the backs of his arms.

“We’re going to Earth, Pausha. Get my cruiser ready while I address The Brethren about my concerns.”

A grin broke across Pausha’s face. “As you wish, Master.”

Chapter Six

“STOP!”

The word sprang from Jimmy’s lips with such force, his vision blurred and his head swam. The ringing in his head brought his hands instinctively to his ears, covering them and pressing in as if his head might explode. The last thing Jimmy remembered was the cool stone of the hangar floor on the skin of his face and Julz calling his name.

What Jimmy never saw was the effect his single word had had on the situation. The blaster rifles carried by the nano-tech troopers burst into a dozen pieces, the energy chambers exploding in perfectly contained balls of red flame. The troopers themselves found themselves suddenly pinned to the hangar walls, unable to move, unable to continue the fight as their armor fell to the floor in pieces underneath them.

Julz and Hima retreated to where Jimmy had collapsed to the floor. Mul-Rok was not far behind them. Hima scooped Jimmy up off the floor, casting a wary eye toward the pinned down troopers.

“He’ll hold them there until we’re safely away. Get him on-board, Hima, into the med-unit, now.” Julz started to follow Hima onto the ship, but Mul-Rok stopped her. “Help me finish. It will do none of us any good to leave unprepared.” Julz hesitated, her desire to tend to Jimmy painfully obvious on her face. “There is nothing you can do for him, Julz.”

She turned to her father, “I can be the first thing he sees when his eyes open again.”

“If we don’t leave this place now, he will never open his eyes again.”

Julz knew her father, knew his love for their world, their way of life. Something had changed him. Something awful forced him to forsake all he had ever known. She could see the anguish in his eyes, but knew the resolve she heard in his voice. Mul-Rok believed this was the only chance any of them had at survival. She couldn’t see deep enough into his thoughts to understand the danger he sensed or see what it was they needed to survive, but her father’s heart and mind were true. She had no choice but to follow his lead.

Without another lost second, fuel cells slammed home while crates and provisions found their way into cargo holds along the underside of the vessel. Julz worked quick, finishing the work the four of them had been doing before the troopers arrived in minutes, and without ever moving from where Jimmy had fallen to the floor. When she’d finished, Julz followed her father onto the ship, the hatch lifting from the hangar floor and sealing itself seamlessly into the ship’s exterior.

Mul-Rok tapped the com-link on his wrist as he strode through the ship’s corridors toward the command center. “Hima.”

“Ay, captain, still getting our boy strapped into your wee incubators, sir. Gonna need a few more minutes here.” Came the Nevarian’s reply in the best impression of Star Trek’s Scotty he could muster.

“Julz is on her way. I need you in the command center before I get there.”

“On my way, Captain.” The alien had a gift for Earth-based dialects. It was uncanny. Hima spent hours in the Terraling’s vast multi-media library of information learning everything he could about American Pop Culture, especially when it came to science fiction. Hima found Earth’s idea of alien life amusing.

Hima sat patiently at the helm when Mul-Rok entered the command center, his massive hands dancing across the control panel in front of him with practiced confidence.

“How come we’re still on this planet, Hima?”

“Thought ya might like to sit down first, Captain, this ain’t gonna be no pleasure cruise.”

Mul-Rok found his chair and sat. “Hima, you’re the last of the Nevarrian Royal Family. Earth slang does not become you.”

“You liked the Scotty impression better, I get it.” Hima stroked the throttle keys and the cruiser shot into the moisture rich, night sky of the planet Terra. Within seconds the cruiser cleared the planet’s atmosphere and raced into space.

Chapter Five

Earth. Home. Jimmy was going home.

The thought pinged around in his head like a Pong ball. Although being one of Earth’s Select Few meant someday he would have to return to Earth, he never really thought it would happen. No one had left the Millennium Program that he knew of. No one. And that begged the questions… Why him? Why now?

Jimmy glanced quickly at the three working quietly to get the deep space cruiser ready for launch, oblivious to, it seemed, the reason why they were there.

Trained, practiced, Jimmy had no doubt they could do whatever it was Mul-Rok had them preparing for, but Mul-Rok shared none of the reasons for their quiet, hurried activity. Mul-Rok lived by rules, survived through strict diligence and adherence to the Order. Nothing in the Order explained what Mul-Rok had them doing. Jimmy knew the verses of the Order better than the Pledge of Allegiance. Mul-Rok, for the first time in ten years, showed a kind of humanness Jimmy didn’t think possible for his Master.

A warm tingling spread across the back of his hand. He’d almost forgotten about the pain from earlier. The hangar, protected from the cooled catacomb air, provided Jimmy with an opportunity to examine his hand a little more closely, so he pulled the glove from his hand to try and determine the reason for the irritation.

As Jimmy’s hand came free of the glove, he focused on the veins beneath his pale skin. The veins moved like liquid blue ink, spreading slowly up his arm. He flexed his fingers, staring at the markings he’d only ever seen on a Terraling. When he looked up, Julz was watching him and he heard her voice in his head.

“What do you think?” The question was playful, flirty. She’d never been flirty before. And then the oddest thing happened. Jimmy could feel himself inside her mind, feel her thoughts, her fears and desires. “Say something.”

“What should I say?” He blurted the words out, startling himself and the other three in the room. He was no longer in Julz’s mind, that was certain, but why hadn’t he been able to communicate the way she did?

“You talking to yourself again, Jimbo?” Hima’s sarcastic growl brought a crooked smile to Jimmy’s face until he saw Mul-Rok watching him intently. Julz was also watching him, intently.

“Ya. Call me crazy.” Jimmy pulled the glove back on, covering the blue spreading up his arm.

Hima laughed until the hangarbay door swung open and a squad of nanotech Terra-elite soldiers filled the open doorway.

The Squad Leader stepped forward, blaster rifle held at a low ready, the red power cells fluxing like a heart and the trigger finger of his left hand indexing the weapon.

“Master Mul-Rok. You and your team are to stand down.”

“Stand down?” Hima turned to face the soldiers, every muscle in his body beginning to swell. Hima could smell a fight coming before any one else.

“Stand down and have your students return to their dwellings.”

Mul-Rok turned toward the squad, “I’m afraid, Trooper, I won’t be doing any such thing.”

“We have orders, sir.”

“Do you, now?”

Hima threw himself at the arrest squad as the energy bolts flew from their rifles. He grabbed two of the soldiers by their heads and rammed them together, taking them quickly out of the fight. The remaining soldiers scattered to other vantage points around the hangar, filling the air with the red bolts of energy that destroyed everything they touched, everything but Hima.

Bolt after bolt of the liquid energy rammed into the blue-fleshed Nevarrian. And each time a blast struck him, his body absorbed the energy, causing him to swell to three times his normal size.

Mul-Rok attacked with his bare hands, disabling soldiers one by one while his daughter shielded him from energy bolts with her psi-abilities.

More soldiers button-hooked through the doorway, laying down suppressing fire and moving tactically into the firefight. As good as his friends were, the end of this fight was not far off. Jimmy watched from under the cruiser where he’d been loading fuel cells. He didn’t have the super-skills Hima and Julz had, and hadn’t mastered the fighting arts of his instructor.

“Help us.” The plea entered Jimmy’s mind with quiet confidence. They needed his help. “You can end this now. End this.” The back of his hand burned a little. He knew what to do, knew how to do it. They trained him.

“Jimmy.”

Chapter Four

The cold air rushing through the catacombs at this hour stole the breath from Jimmy’s lungs. Hima stepped in front of Jimmy, blocking the icy blast and giving him enough time to pull the suit’s sock-like hood over his head. The blood-freezing temperature in the catacombs existed to deter any nocturnal activities. For most, it worked well. But for some, like Hima and Julz, cold was a way of life, a rite of passage.

Even with the hood over his head, protecting him from the freezing wind, Jimmy collapsed to his knees, his lungs and throat burning. Hima caught him as he fell forward.

“Julz.” Julz turned immediately, saw Jimmy on his knees, and raced to his side. “Forgot to cover up that pretty little Earthling head of his.”

“Jimmy?” He didn’t respond. “I can’t see his eyes in this hood, Hima. We need to get him to a sickbay.”

“Negatory, beautiful. Give the suit a sec to warm our little Earthling back up and he’ll be ripe as a Nevarian winter peach. Little frostbite in the lungs never hurt anybody I knew.”

“He’s not from Nevar, Hima.”

“Could’a fooled me. He’s like the little brother I never had, only with over-sensitive skin.” Jimmy coughed, then gasped for air as he grabbed hold of Hima’s massive arms. “There, there crazy Earthling. What were you thinking going out in the cold without your hat on? What would your mother say?”

“Very funny.” Jimmy’s hoarse reply was reassuring for both Hima and Julz.

Julz placed her head to his and Jimmy felt a fiery blast of warmth surge through him like an electrical current. Then he heard her voice, “Don’t do that to me again, James. I cannot lose you.” Then the warmth and voice were gone. He stared at Julz. She gave him a quick smile and went back to business. Hima helped him back to his feet.

“What was that all about?”

“Tell ya later.” No one had ever called him James. But when Julz said it, he kind of liked the way it sounded.

“Right. Then let’s get moving tough guy.” Hima wouldn’t let this moment go without some further explaining, but to his credit, he knew this wasn’t the time or place for prying questions. Jimmy had no secrets from Hima. Hima knew that and respected him all the more for it.

The trio of curfew breakers found Mul-Rok waiting for them in the lower catacombs near the hangar bay. His eyes flickered in the incandescent light coming up from the floor lamps. Jimmy hadn’t been this deep in the catacombs. Passage into the lower catacombs by any of the Select was forbidden, although Jimmy found there weren’t many security measures preventing them from moving freely through the catacombs. Perhaps the Terralings believed a little too much in their cold air security system.

Mul-Rok walked forward and embraced his daughter. Although most of his body was covered with a taught, black flightsuit, Jimmy watched the blue veins in his neck pulse with light as the two embraced.

The back of Jimmy’s hand burned white hot suddenly and he clinched his fingers into a fist to fight off the pain.

Mul-Rok’s eyes flashed to Jimmy as he released his daughter, and although Jimmy’s breath caught in his throat, he was glad his eyes and face were hidden from his Master. Hima’s unique suit proved its worth yet again.

“It’s time for us to go.” Mul-Rok turned and started down the catacomb toward a nearby launchbay door.

“Where exactly are we going?” Hima, never afraid to ask a question of anyone, stopped short when Mul-Rok turned and glared at him. Then Mul-Rok’s hard look fell on Jimmy, and lastly turned on his daughter.

“Earth.”

Chapter Three

Whispered words oozed into Jimmy’s ear as a soft, warm hand slipped over his mouth, “It’s me. Mul-Rok sent us. We have to get out of here tonight.”

The dream still burned in Jimmy’s mind as he rolled out of the bed, his feet falling soundlessly to the frosty floor. He could feel the skin-like energy suit he wore come to life as soon as he left the warmth of the thermabed. The suit was the only thing protecting his sensitive earth-grown skin from the harsh Terra winters. It had been ten years since that fateful night when he decided to leave Earth with Mul-Rok and come to Terra. Ten years…

Jimmy grabbed the two leather satchels held out for him while his eyes adjusted to the darkness in the bunkhouse. And as his night vision kicked in, Jimmy smiled. The nanite implants proved worth the three days of blindness he’d suffered through. He focused on the massive blue hand holding the satchels and looked up into the grinning face of Hima, his hulking, prankster of a bodyguard from the planet Nevar.

Everything Hima had ever told him about Nevar suddenly rushed into his mind. The frigid ice planet he once called home had been vaporized when the sun in its solar system went Red. Hima was one of the last of his kind, a gentle blue giant without a home, without a race. Hima reminded him of Dr. Henry McCoy, the X-Men’s Beast. He had a mind for science, a knack for fighting when the situation required, and a sense of loyalty second to none.

Jimmy imagined Hima was the best of everything his race had to offer, blue skin and all. He felt lucky to have his friendship, a friendship forged his very first day on Terra.

Mealtime was the only time when all the Select Few came together from their respective Millennium programs. Even their Terraling Masters knew meshing together all the many races they’d gathered throughout the galaxy would create problems, the biggest problem being the death of one of the Select. Gathering new Select was a dangerous business for the Terralings, a price they paid willingly but one they tried to avoid. Mealtimes were the exception and Hima had been there at Jimmy’s first mealtime when a trio of Graumalings decided they should get a second plate of food before Jimmy had gotten his first. Jimmy stood his ground, but if Hima hadn’t stepped in when he did, the beating he would have gotten might have been the last. As it happened, Hima was more than up for the action and after that, Jimmy's problems with anyone ceased.

“So, you’re sleeping in that pansy-suit now, I see.”

“Well, if you hadn’t made the thing so comfortable…”

“Shhh. What part of this makes you think we’re playing a game?” The sweet chastisement came from the perfect lips of the most beautiful girl Jimmy had ever seen. Julz-Rok was Mul-Rok’s daughter, his youngest daughter of age, as he had been reminded one time when inquiring about her. A Terraling’s youngest daughter of age was taken into the Covenant for service to their God. There could be no marriage, no children, and all ties to family were severed at anointment. Julz took him, once, to the Temple to show him what her life would be like. He knew it was a life she didn’t want…for a lot of reasons.

“Hey Earthling. You’re skin's turning red. That suit too hot?”

Hima was always quick to point out the obvious, especially if it meant making someone a bit uncomfortable. Jimmy flashed the grinning brute a stern look. They both knew how strong Jimmy’s feelings were for Julz. Neither knew for sure how Julz felt. Jimmy suspected there was something there, but she was a Terraling, the daughter of their Master, and destined for religious servitude. Even if she did feel something, Jimmy knew she would never act on it. She couldn’t.

“Enough. Let’s go.” As she spun to lead them out of the room, the long braid of silvery-white hair hanging over her shoulder, swung to her back. She wore an energy suit as well, also a gift from Hima, although it looked rather amazing on her.

She really was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, flawless.

Chapter Two

Jimmy woke to the flash of red, white, and blue lights blazing through his still open window. It took him a minute to wake enough to process what was going on; then, he wondered why his parents weren’t already in the room. Red, white, and blue lights meant only one thing to an eight year old: police cars and fire trucks. And Jimmy loved both.

The cold wooden floor stung his bare feet. It was colder than it normally was. Jimmy stared at the floor and saw his breath billow out in front of his face.

“James Antwan Miles.”

Jimmy turned toward the window when he heard his name. The lights were gone and the cold air burned as he breathed it in, but in the darkness near the bedroom window he could see a figure standing. Tall, thin, whoever it was had appeared in his room without making a sound.

“Who are you?”

Obviously not bothered by the sudden appearance of the stranger, he'd asked the next most important question. He was eight and something told him this stranger didn't pose any danger, so why not find out who he was and maybe even why he was here. The thought occurred to him to call out to his father, but it was fleeting. If the man was here to hurt him, it was already too late for help.

“I’m the future, James. Your future.”

Jimmy watched the man, still nothing more than a silhouette in the darkness of his room. The stranger’s voice was calm, kind. He wanted to see the stranger’s face, but the man remained hidden in the shadows.

“Why are you here?”

“To offer you the chance to save your world.”

Jimmy’s mind was quickly trying to process that enormous thought. A chance to save my world? What was that suppose to mean? He was eight years old! Eight! How in a million years was he someone even remotely possible of saving the world? Then Jimmy stopped mid-thought. He said save his world, meaning Jimmy’s world, so, then, what world did this stranger belong to? And suddenly Jimmy realized it was time to call for Dad. But before he could open his mouth to speak, the man stepped toward him, coming into the light and speaking again.

“You’re a peculiar race of humans. All you create seems to destroy who you are. We have watched you for a long time, gathered those we felt would give your people the best chance at survival and trained them.”

Jimmy heard the words. They didn’t make a whole lot of sense to him, but he heard them. It was the man’s face that held Jimmy captivated. His feet hit the floor again. He didn’t notice the frigid layer of frost now gathered on the polished wooden surface. He didn’t see how each of his quick, excited breaths condensed in the air in front of his face. Jimmy couldn’t take his eyes off the man talking to him.

The stranger was Human, but unlike any human Jimmy had ever seen. His skin was flawless, and looked soft like his mom’s Fuzzy Pants. And each of the man’s facial features was perfect, his ears, mouth, nose, they were all perfect, and his eyes were a blue Jimmy had never seen before.

“You’re beautiful.” The words slipped from Jimmy’s lips before he'd even thought them. It seemed like the only way to describe what he felt when he looked at the stranger.

The stranger smiled. “Will you come with me to my world, Jimmy, and let me teach you how to save your people and your earth?”

“Your world? Where are you from?”

With a gesture of his hand, the stranger lead Jimmy to the bedroom window where he pulled back the curtains to reveal the same night sky Jimmy was so familiar with. But Jimmy’s eyes never made it to the sky, lingering instead on the stranger’s outstretched arm. The loose white garment the man wore had short sleeves, leaving exposed the bare skin of his arm. The veins in the stranger’s arm seemed to course with a fluorescent liquid, blood Jimmy supposed, but certainly not blood like his. The web of glowing veins looked like an intricate tattoo made with ink that moved across the skin.

“There’s a cluster of stars just outside the Orion constellation where my world, Terra, has been hidden for seven thousand years. We are a people who have found peace in the Millennium of our time, but it cost us…”

Jimmy stared up at Orion. He knew the constellation so well he barely took notice of it anymore. Everyone knew Orion. Jimmy never thought there was anything special about it, until now…

“You want me to go there?”

“Yes.”

“Can I think about it?”

“No, you must choose tonight. Go, or stay.”

Jimmy thought when the time came to make this choice, there wouldn’t be any choice to make. He’d made his decision the first time he looked up at the stars. Space was his future. But he wasn't supposed to be choosing now. He looked at the stranger. He was standing so close, looking down at him with those weird blue eyes, kind eyes, but weird. How could he make this decision now? It wasn’t time, wasn’t his time…or was it?

A Peculiar People - Chapter One

James “Jimmy” Antwan Miles the Third laid across the foot of his bed, head hung over the edge, eyes staring at the open window that looked down on the neighborhood park. It was a hot summer night, hotter than usual he’d heard his parents say as they’d shut the door to his room on their way out. The heat didn’t bother Jimmy so much, not on a night like this, when the sky was clear and every star was out, eager to be seen. Jimmy saw them, saw them all and wanted nothing more in life than to know each one of them by name and visit them.

Jimmy rolled himself up onto his bed and lay staring at the ceiling. Two days ago, he and his dad spent the afternoon pasting a giant star map to his room’s ceiling. He already knew where to find each constellation, knew the constellations by name, even knew the names of the major stars in those constellations.

Space. The final frontier. Jimmy heard the familiar Star Trek line playing through is mind, then it was Star Wars…in a galaxy far, far away. Space… could there be anything more beautiful? Jimmy didn’t think so, not at eight years old.

He rolled onto his side, eyes now on the packed bookshelves lining the wall at the side of his bed. Books on everything you wanted to know about space, models of various shuttles, a shadow box with a handful of NASA mission patches secure inside, a menu and an alien keychain from a café near Area 51, the shelves were a wealth of dreams and fantasies.

Jimmy exhaled deeply as a smile crept across his face. He was going to space. Not now, of course, his dad said if he played his cards right (whatever that was suppose to mean), Jimmy might be ready to go into space in twenty years.

Twenty years…that was an eternity for an eight year old. Why would it take twenty years? Jimmy knew the answer of course. He’d read everything there was to read for an eight year old on the topic and had even purchased a few books a little out of his league so he’d have them to read when he was ready for the more advanced stuff.

He was a smart kid, a genius by some accounts, but he was still very happy being eight, no need to hurry things along too quickly. But twenty years…surely he could get into space faster than that. Surely…

His eyes began to blink slowly as his lids got heavier and heavier, pushing him closer to sleep. He was tired, just not ready to sleep yet. Twenty years, he kept thinking. He couldn’t wait twenty years. Who could?

With a New Year Upon Us...

With a new year upon us, and Part One of The Redemption Series posted, those who our readers are probably wondering what's next. Although I have several ideas already in the works, my time has been given in great part to my youngest son who was recently diagnosed with Autism.

As an aspiring writer (aspiring for the past 23 years), the hardest thing about my son's diagnoses has been his struggle with words. It seemed a lot of the dreams and hopes I had for my son were dashed on the rocky shoreline of Lake Reality when my wife and I were told he was autistic. Our life and home are filled each day with therapy sessions, but also with the hope that we are doing all we can to help our son overcome the difficulties he has, and perhaps give him the opportunity to live a fulfilling and engaging life.

And I am sure, if he could talk, he'd want me to continue to write, knowing the joy it brings me. He is an amazing boy, full of life and curiosity. So, for him, my next story will be A Peculiar People, a story about the sci-fi dreams in every little boy.

For you, Hunter, and your older, Star Wars fanatic brothers, Ethan and Caleb.

Fallen - Chapter Fifteen

Steam rose from the pool’s heated water. The sun had only begun to rise over the Felucian Mountains to the east. The mountains were still draped in their winter snows. The mornings still cool, but filled with the smell of the coming spring. Lady Rianna moved gracefully through the water, her body hidden in its depth, to the marbled edge that over-looked the entire city of Durhamfeld. It had been two days since the courier had arrived with news of Mufaun’s victory. Mufaun had found the Seer and would be returning today before the sun set. Grand Marshall Rohn would be with him. Her father had all but declared the day a day of feast and rest.

The princess closed her eyes, took a deep, engaging breath of the lavender scented water, and then slipped completely into its depths. When she broke the water’s surface a few seconds later, she was no longer alone.

Grand Marshall Rohn stood at the pool’s edge, watching the princess swim. “Good morning, my lady.”

“This is a private chamber, Grand Marshall, you are not welcome here.”

“But if I were Mufaun…”

“No man is welcome in the bedchamber of the princess, Grand Marshall, or have you been gone so long that you’ve forgotten the very laws you bare arms to protect and uphold?”

“Don’t trifle with me, girl.” He caught himself in the biting tone, cooled his stung pride, and softened the gaze he cast at the princess. “Forgive me, princess, I forget my place. The journey has been long and fraught with unexpected dangers that have cost my army dearly.”

The Grand Marshall turned to leave.

“Wait.” He stopped but did not turn to look at the princess. “How is it that you have managed to return before you were expected?”

The man turned, kneeling at the pool’s side and dipping his right hand into the water. After pulling it out, filled with water, he cupped the handful of the scented wetness and lifted it to his nose where he breathed in the refreshing aroma. Then he let the water fall from his hand.

“I have come for you, baring news I felt you should hear only from me.”

She struggled desperately to hide her look of concern.

Her heart raced in her chest. Her long, golden hair hung wet and straight down her head and across her shoulders. Her blue eyes watched the Grand Marshall as he drew himself to his full height. He looked at her and she could feel her lips begin to tremble.

“The night after the courier left Mufaun’s camp, they were attacked by a savage warrior tribe of cave trolls from the Eastern Tambors.”

Rianna turned and swam to the ledge, looking out once again at the city as it awoke to the new day, the sun’s first rays of light spreading across the tiled rooftops of the city’s cottages near the outer wall.

Rohn moved around the edge of the pool, his eyes on her. “The battle must have been a fierce one. It surely must have lasted most of the night, but when I arrived in the morning with my army, the damage was done, and could not be undone.”

Tears streaked Rianna’s face, she fought to control the tremble spreading through her body at what she knew would come next.

“Mufaun is dead, my lady. Slain in battle, protecting the very thing your father sent him to find and bring to him.” He paused, watched her tremble in the water, staring at the city of her birthright.

“So it is you, then, that shall present the Seer to my Father?”

“Yes, my lady, in humble memory of my fallen Lieutenant Marshall, I will bring this woman to your Father’s court.” Rohn stared at the princess, the lies spilling from his lips like the tears from her eyes.

“Will that humble memory keep you from taking me to your bed, Grand Marshall? Will you honor me, will you honor my heart in the same way you honor the man who served you so faithfully?” Tears still running freely from her eyes, she stared at the Grand Marshall.

“I beg your forgiveness for the plague this news is on your heart, my lady, but your fate is not mine to decide.”

The Grand Marshall turned to leave but was stopped again by the princess. “Where is his body, Grand Marshall? Where has Roz Mufaun been laid to rest? Where is his body being prepared for the burial he has earned?”

“Far from here, my lady, on a hill overlooking the giant oak forest at the foot of the Tambor Mountains where he and his captains died defending your Father’s dream. That is where you will find the body of Roz Mufaun. I’ve already dispatched a host of masons and carpenters to erect a tomb and monument fit to house the greatest of my men. I will take you there myself when it is completed.”

Grand Marshall Rohn left the bedchamber of the princess without further comment, leaving her in the steaming bath without a word of comfort, without hope of love, leaving her shattered and fallen.

The end…for now, but to be continued in Taken.

Chapter Fourteen

Ruk Stonetoes entered the Grand Marshall’s tent, dragging the Seer behind him in a great burlap sack. Grand Marshall Rohn stood, staring at the massive troll as Stonetoes threw the sack at his feet. Boneshard stood with his leader, battle worn and tense.

The bag twisted and writhed but made no sound.

“There is the seer you so desperately sought. I have kept my end of our bargain, at great cost to my people.”

“So you have…” Rohn knelt at the side of the sack, watching it writhe and twist, then he stood and moved toward Stonetoes and Boneshard. “Unfortunately…”

Darts hit the two trolls without warning. The poison worked quick, bringing both creatures to their knees and sending them toward a dark slumber.

Stonetoes’ last sight was Rohn’s face, “…I cannot keep the promise I made you. When I sit on the throne of Eros-Sur, I will have my land wiped clean of your filth, troll. That is my promise to you. That is your reward for this service.”

The darkness was heavy, suffocating, but Stonetoes fought to keep hold of his mind. His hands were bound with cold, hard steel, but he could not will his arms to strike at his captors.

His legs were jailed in the same cold shackles.

Fate had played him cruel.

How could he have fallen to this man?

Chapter Thirteen

The search of the cavernous stronghold went quickly, Mufaun leading the small squad through the tunnels and rooms as if following a map only he could see. Rolen moved quietly at his side, his bow strung with an arrow ready to fly at whatever enemy presented itself. The rear guard lingered only a few feet behind, making sure the unsearched areas left behind in the flickering light of the torches lining the stone walls didn’t have a chance to sling surprises at them as they moved deeper into the stronghold.

There were signs of battle everywhere, destroyed equipment and wares, blood smeared on floor, ceiling, and walls. But there were no bodies. Stains on the floor showed where bodies should have been found, but the bodies were gone.

“Where are the bodies?” Rolen’s question was the first sound they’d made since entering the stronghold. The emptiness had him unsettled, uncharacteristic of his disciplined mind.

“Taken, I would guess, by the trolls who survived the battle here. Back to their firepits and their young.”

There was nothing comforting in Mufaun’s response. Nevertheless, Rolen had his answer and they moved on in silence through two more tunnels and into what looked like a supply room where Mufaun stopped. The room was empty but the hard banging coming from somewhere not far away shook the very walls. A throaty, hard voice filled the silence between the bangs.

“Put your backs into it you yellow-skinned slug eaters. There’s fresh meat behind that door.”

And then a second voice, “And the boy. Ruk wants the boy alive.”

There was a growl followed by a snarl and the clash of metal. The fight was short, followed by the first troll’s voice, “Are there any other fools here who want to express their support of our misguided leader?”

After a short silence, the pounding began again. Mufaun stared at each of the three doors exiting the storeroom, and without saying anything, moved for the center door. His hands gripped the hilts of his short swords, pulling them effortlessly from their sheaths, and with a swift, powerful kick, smashed the door open.

The trolls on the other side were taken by surprise, the first two falling immediately to the floor with arrows from Rolen’s bow. Then the door the trolls had been working on burst under the beating, flying from its hinges, splintered wood and steel falling to the floor. Four of the trolls came at Mufaun and his squad while the remainder flooded the room beyond the destroyed door.

Mufaun’s blades cut through the first of the beasts, leaving him a lifeless mess on the floor. Rolen and the others continued the fight, while Mufaun followed the rest of the trolls through the doorway.

The fight was fierce, violent and Mufaun was in the thick of it as soon as he entered the room. Blades clashed while stone hammers smashed great holes in the floor and made the walls tremble. Trolls fell quickly. Blood spilled across the floor. Mufaun hacked and sliced his way through the hoard of smelly-fleshed animals, dancing through the path of destruction left by the trolls as they used whatever they could to overcome their foe. The trolls were no match for these warriors, their swords quick, the strokes deadly each time.

Then a fierce yell brought the battle to a halt, “I, Gurp Longfall, have the prize!” The troll had the boy by his neck, raising him into the air. At his feet, lifeless, was one of the boy’s guards.

Thunk. Thunk.

Two arrows sunk deep into the troll’s face. Gurp Longfall’s body slumped to the floor, his hold on the boy defeated.

Mufaun turned to the see Rolen and the rest of the squad entering the room. Arrows flew freely from the bows of the two scouts while the man-at-arms with them hacked at whatever enemy came within range of the wicked sharp battle-axe he wielded. The trolls left standing and still fighting were forced into a corner.

Only three remained, injured, but very much alive.

Mufaun stood at the front of the battle, sweat and blood dripping from his chin. He sheathed his swords, knowing somewhere nearby Rolen had him covered. “Your lives do not have to end like this.”

“How would you have us die, human?”

The trolls were crouched, the muscles in their legs taught, ready to fling their massive bodies at their captors. Their huge, clawed hands still gripped weapons smeared with blood.

“I would have you live, free to return to your own lands, your families, or stay and fight with us against the tyrant who brought you to this place, who has put you in that corner. Fight us and you will surely die, and if death is what you seek, so be it. We will give it to you.”

“Your words are bold, human, but how can you promise me and my comrades any such freedom?”

“Sal! He cannot make this promise. It’s a lie, a vicious maltruth to catch us unguarded.”

The troll, Sal Unbroken, glanced quickly at the troll standing next to him, then turned his gaze back to Mufaun.

“I stand before you unarmed.”

“But not unguarded.”

“I’m no fool. I offer you a chance to live free or fight with us, and ask for nothing more but peace in return.” Man and beast stared hard at each other. Mufaun watched Unbroken closely, saw the muscles in his legs relax, witnessed the bulging muscles in his arms flatten.

“You would let us leave this place, free and unchecked?”

“This battle is no longer yours, leave this place in peace and you shall be given it without condition. And should our paths cross again, think back on this moment when your lives were spared.” Mufaun held out his hand to Unbroken and the troll took it.

“If our paths cross again, I will remember your words. Pray your kind does the same.” Mufaun sent two of his squad with the trolls to assure their safe passage, then he and Rolen turned to the warriors once again surrounding the boy.

They looked no less fierce with the trolls now gone.

Then the boy came forward, through the protective care of his guard, and walked up to Mufaun, taking Mufaun’s hands in his own.

“Welcome to the Beginning, Roz Mufaun, Fallen Son of Eros-Sur. It is time to take back what is rightfully yours.”

Chapter Twelve

Mufaun stared at the scene of destruction before him. The Dungheap was in ruins, the stronghold dug into the mountain was no more than a shadow of what it once might have been. It was all too apparent the attacking troll army had had only one goal in mind, find the Seer and destroy everything else.

“Sergeant Rolen, you and two others are with me. Captain Steed, man the perimeter and track the monsters responsible for this. I want to know where they’re headed, how fast they’re moving, and how many prisoners they may have taken, and I want to be ready to move before I get back.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.” Both men responded at the same time and moved without further question. The time for questions was at an end.

Rolen was quick to return with two soldiers: one a scout, the other a man-at-arms. Steed had the battalion moving quickly to positions throughout the forest area surrounding the stronghold while he prepped what was left of his elite squad of scouts.

With Rolen at his side, Mufaun went to where the Battalion medic was treating the injured Chameleon. He knelt at her side. Her face was pale, sickly, bloodless. He glanced at the medic.

“Her injuries are internal and fairly minor as far as I can tell. Her jaw was dislocated, but I was able to reset it. The pain that must have caused I couldn’t imagine but she didn’t even stir. I’ve tried everything I know to wake her, sir.”

Mufaun looked the woman over another time. “Keep at it, Malone. Do what you can.”

“Of course, Lieutenant.”

As Mufaun turned to walked away, the Chameleon’s hand shot out and latched onto his ankle. He grabbed the thin wrist of the woman, but as he did so, his mind was suddenly assaulted with a barrage of images, caves, tunnels, rooms, stairways, and then seven faces. Three of the faces were men, the other three of women. At the center of the small group of warriors was a boy of no more than eight years. All around this boy, there was fear, the warriors surrounding him splattered with the blood of the enemy as well as their friends and comrades. But this boy, his eyes, vibrant, blue like Anduvian violets of the Southern prairie country. There was hope in these eyes.

“Find the boy. He is your only hope.”

The Chameleon’s words broke Mufaun from his trance and left him stunned, staring at the woman as she died before him. He still held the woman’s wrist in his hand, and a tingling there brought his eyes to gaze on blue tattoo that spread across his skin on the back of his hand and wrist. Mufaun recognized the intricately woven pattern even before it finished marking him. It was the Bastion Weave, a tattoo worn only by the Temple Knights of that ancient brotherhood of warriors Mufaun had idolized from boyhood. He touched the medallion hanging around his neck.

“What boy?” The words slipped from his mouth as he tightened his grip on the dead woman’s wrist, as if trying to coax her spirit back into her body long enough to get the answer.

There was no answer. Not now. But the images he’d seen, the boy and his guard were somewhere in the stronghold, trapped, and he had to find them.

Mufaun released his hold on the woman and bolted for the Dugheap’s only entrance. Rolen was at his heels, as were the two men going with them into the stronghold. Whatever lie ahead in the dark tunnels beyond the entrance they would face alone.

Chapter Eleven

Arrows flew from Rolen’s bow, but the trolls kept coming. They were everywhere, coming at them hard from every side. Rolen and his small little band raced up a streambed, the high banks giving them some cover from the return volley of arrows coming from the pursuing trolls.

One of his men took an arrow in the thigh but was immediately scooped up by the troll running with them. He had no idea how much further they had to go, but everything in him said it didn’t matter. They were going to die in this streambed.

Then it happened. Two massive trolls dropped into the streambed in front of them, knocking aside the arrows fired at them with the massive steel shields they were wielding. The fleeing party came to a sudden stop.

The arrows stopped. Three more trolls dropped into the streambed behind them. Trolls lined the high banks, some of them still plucking arrows from their hides. “You’re finished, humans. Surrender and you will be killed quickly.”

Rolen glared at the troll speaking to them, a brutish green and black skinned animal with a thick silver mane. “Surrendering is not an option.”

Harok Boneshard descended the streambed’s bank like a cat, agile and poised, pulling himself upright in front of Rolen. He drew in his breath, smelling Rolen. “You don’t stink of fear like so many of your comrades who have fallen today.” Then Boneshard saw the troll behind Rolen. His lips parted in a fierce growl just before he hurled himself at the Chameleon.

The Chameleon dropped the two bodies he carried as Boneshard struck him full in the chest. The two tumbled backward into the water, the fight fierce but short lived as Boneshard quickly overpowered the Chameleon, drowning him in the shallow stream. He stared at the lifeless human man now underneath him. “Your tricks will harm no more of my brothers, Shapeshifter.” Boneshard turned his gaze back to Rolen. “Kill them all.”

Rolen and his men reacted with trained experience, arrows flying at multiple targets on the banks above them, but the trolls descended on them with a fierce vengeance. Swords and knives were drawn as the trolls closed in on the small band, but just as the trolls closed the gap, a boulder crashed into one of the trolls, crushing it to a sputtering mound of flesh.

The ground trembled as Mufaun and his small army of stone giants and soldiers surrounded the trolls and their captives. “You can surrender now, and you’ll live. Fight, and you will die.”

Boneshard looked at Rolen, and Rolen could hear his own words in his mind. Boneshard wasn’t going to surrender. Not now, not ever.

The trolls attacked without warning, focusing their attack on the stone giants, but the trolls were beat down without much effort. Boneshard escaped, killing one of the stone giants and five soldiers before disappearing into the woods with only minor injuries. He made sure no one followed him.

Mufaun and Steed went immediately to Rolen, injured but looking to his men. All were alive, including the woman. Mufaun put his hand on Rolen’s shoulder, “You did well. It was a hard fight, not one you were meant to win.”

“It was my duty.”

“Does it end here? Or will you continue to serve me to the end?”

“I have served you faithfully and shall continue to do so, Commander, but I have a question, if I may speak freely?”

Mufaun had sensed something in Rolen since the beginning of the confrontation, he could have only guessed then, but here was an opportunity to know. “Speak your mind, Rolen. Hold nothing back.”

“The stone giant that killed my Second, Rone, said that I had been chosen to survive this battle by you. He called me by name and told me to serve you well in the battles that have yet to be fought.”

The silence that followed was eerie. Even the trees in the forest surrounding them seemed to be waiting for Mufaun to respond to Rolen’s accusation. Had Mufaun actually given an order condemning certain of his battalion to death? The mixed army of men and giant stared at Mufaun, some with looks of shock, others certain this leader of men would have given no such order. Mufaun knew he hadn’t. Steed knew his commander would never consent to the destruction of his own men. They were his family.

Lorn stepped to Mufaun’s side, opposite Captain Steed, and was about to speak when Mufaun laid a hand on the giant’s great stone elbow. “I chose each of you to serve in this battalion from the very beginning, some of you from your infancy in this army. I have trained you, given you Captains who could teach you how to survive and conquer in any confrontation. I have prepared you for the worst, hoping for the best. Last night, I made a choice, a hard choice, but the only one that promised a chance at saving this empire from the wiles of the Grand Marshall. I agreed to stay behind with a select few to help protect the Seer from the Grand Marshall. Those who would not be staying behind,” and Mufaun gave a look at Lorn, “would return to the Grand Marshall’s army none the wiser to the truth of our defection. That did not happen.”

“For your treachery to go unnoticed, I convinced Lady Julianna there was a need for this Grand Marshall of yours to find bodies, bodies he would recognize. It was by my design that the first of your fellows were taken in battle, but the treachery runs deeper than even your Commander guessed. The trolls were an unexpected enemy. Your Grand Marshall had condemned all of you to death, fearing your loyalty to your own commander.”

Rolen considered all that had been said, knowing time was short for all of them, then he looked at his Commander, “I am at your command.” He knelt himself before Mufaun. Men fell to a knee all around them. Even Lorn bowed himself to Mufaun.

Steed, who still stood at Mufaun’s side, turned to his Commander and said, “It seems we have work to do.”

“It does indeed.” Mufaun clapped the man on the back and moved forward to where Rolen was on his knee, “Rise, Rolen son of Fenn, let us make sure our fallen friends have not died in vain.”

Chapter Ten

Grand Marshall Rohn rode slowly into the deserted town, his magnificent warhorse like an armored battalion all on its own. A small legion of men strode into the town around. Several small squads shot quickly forward and spread throughout the town, looking for any survivors. There were some but the Grand Marshall apparently had no need of them.

The squads returned without much delay. They were efficient at their jobs. Mufaun had taught them well, too well perhaps.

“Sire, there is no sign of Lieutenant Marshall Mufaun or Captain Steed. Five of his Captains lay dead on the battlefield, many of his men lay with them. There are beasts, great stone giants, among the slain as well.”

The Grand Marshall looked at the scout kneeling before his horse. “And what of the trolls?”

“As yet, nothing. There are also a number of trolls among the dead, but it appears the battle may have gone into the forest. I have three squads searching now.”

“And the villagers?”

“Nothing. There’s not one among the dead.”

Lukus Rohn, Grand Marshall of the Imperial Army, slid from his horse with ease and grace, hitting the ground with a light thud. “Lieutenant Marshall Belfoure.” The man was at his side seconds after his name was uttered. “Take your company with this scout and end this. Bring the troll and the Seer to me.”

Belfoure signaled his company forward then turned to the Grand Marshall, “What of Mufaun?”

“If he’s still alive, kill him and every man that stands with him.”

Chapter Nine

Mufaun's short swords sliced through the pale yellow and brown skin of yet another troll, droplets of the green blood shooting through the air as ripped the blades from the troll's body to parry a strike from another attacker to his left. Steed was still at his side, his shield battered and an ugly gash across his face that nearly took his eye.

The battle was still wicked, but the bodies that fell were mostly those of the enemy. Their stone giant allies seemed more adept to the challenge of fighting these savage beasts than Mufaun could have imagined. There was a fluidness to their engagements that Mufaun guessed had been born in years of conflict between the two races high in the Tambors.

He wished he hadn't put his men right into the middle of it.

Then a battlehorn sounded from deep within the forest. The note was cut short. It hadn't been Rolen's horn. Had he engaged the enemy? If so, why? What had forced him into battle?

The horn's blast had distracted Mufaun's opponent long enough for him to stick his swords deep into the troll's belly, but before he could pull the blades free, he was clubbed from behind.

Mufaun hit the ground hard, grasping at the ribs under his left arm now burning with a piercing pain. When he turned to face his attacker, he found a great, slobbering gray-skinned troll bearing down on him."I think you've spilled enough of my kinsmen's blood this day, human."

The troll raised the killing blow, but just as it fell, Mufaun scrambled out of the way and to his feet.

"Stop squirming around, you puke!"

Mufaun dodged a second swing of the leather-bound bludgeoning device, but the club was caught mid-swing by a mountain-like stone warrior. The giant yanked the troll closer and right into the vice-like grip of his left hand.

The troll released his hold on the club and fought desperately to free himself from the giant's grasp. He failed, and died shortly after the giant crushed his throat. Steed stumbled into the midst, stepping in front of Mufaun and positioning himself to defend his commander.

The giant knelt in front of the two men. "I am Lorn, at your service.""My service?"

But before Mufaun could get any further, Steed called Mufaun's attention to a large group of retreating trolls. They were headed into the forest. So the horn blast had been a troll's call for help.

"Lorn, where are those trolls retreating to?"

The giant turned his great head, just catching a glimpse of the creatures as they disappeared into the forest. "If they keep in that direction, they will find the pathway that leads to Dungheap."

The reality hit Mufaun like the giant club of the troll that lay only feet away from him, this battle had been a diversion. The trolls were after the Seer. He glanced in the direction of the Grand Marshall's camp, then back at the fallen troll. Would Rohn have made a deal with these beasts, a deal that included the slaughter of his men?

"The trolls are after the Seer. We have to move now, or all will be lost."

Chapter Eight

Rolen crept through the thick underbrush as quietly as he could. He wasn't too worried about the dead leaves crunching under his feet or the feet of the soldiers with him because the trolls were making enough noise to cover any sound that might give away their location.

The trolls moved with purpose but stuck to the trail. Their confidence worried Rolen. They didn't try to mask their movements, never checked their rear to see if they were being followed, and only two of the five trolls had weapons in their hands.

Rolen motioned his men forward despite the gut-tightening feeling that something wasn't right.

He had to keep the trolls in sight, had to keep them close until he understand the danger he felt but could not see.

Then, as Rolen quick-stepped through the giant ferns to a fat, ancient looking Oak Tree, he watched as the two armed trolls attacked their own. Rolen moved his men to positions around the unusual scene, prepared to finish off what was left of the feuding warband.

From the center of the formation, the two armed trolls attacked. The smaller, blue-gray skinned troll turned with calculated precision and jabbed its long, curved sword deep into the rear-guard's belly, doubling him over just as knife came slashing across his throat. The death was silent and fast, impressive Rolen thought to himself, not the brutal slayings trolls were known for. But the fight had only just begun.

The sound of the rear-guard's body hitting the ground was enough to get the forward-guards' attention.

"Tanglefoot. It's bad enough..." But the troll's insult was cut short as he was forced to dodge a slashing strike aimed at his head. For as big as the troll was, his quick side-step to avoid the blow and his follow-up punch, were almost intuitive. His fist slammed against the face of his attacker, dropping the troll the ground.

Rolen's mouth fell open as he watched the troll drop. The sheer force of the blow must have shattered the animal's jaw. The predator had now become the prey. Rolen inched closer, while commanding his men to stay hidden where they were. He had to get closer, had to hear what, if anything, was being said. Why the sudden mutiny in the ranks. Trolls were fiercely loyal creatures to their own kind.

"What is this, Fallenstone? Why betray me here? Now?" The troll kicked Fallenstone hard in the stomach and the effect was startling. Fallenstone changed, morphed into the form of a human woman, a beautiful human woman.

Rolen watched as the troll pulled out the massive iron hammer he'd being wearing slung across his back. The troll growled, "Now I understand why I never liked your smell."

The other troll that had attacked with this woman must also be a Chameleon, thought Rolen. They were one of the rare, magical races still found in Eros Sur. Rolen had only ever met one, as the man lay dying on the battlefield with an arrow of Rolen's in his chest. Being able to change your appearance could be a costly mistake. Rolen glanced at the fallen woman's ally. This troll still held its guise and fought a savage battle with the remaining troll-enemy.

As the troll's hammer rose into the air, Rolen stepped from his cover and loosed a volley of arrows at the unsuspecting troll. The arrows struck home, piercing the trolls neck and heart within a second of each other, bringing the beast to its knees without a sound. Its hammer thudded to the ground.

Rolen readied a second volley of arrows and was seconds from loosing these arrows when the enemy troll fell, its head severed from its body. The troll turned to face Rolen as he moved quickly toward the trail where the fight had taken place.

The troll took an aggressive, hunched over stance near the body of the unconscious woman. He clutched a great battleaxe in his hands.

He made no sound, his eyes intent on Rolen as he approached. Then, suddenly aware of the other four scouts ready to fill him with arrows, he placed his axe on the ground and bent himself onto one knee.

Rolen looked at the beast, wondering why he had yet to change to his human form.

"Why are you here, soldier?"

"I was sent here by my commander, to follow and observe the beasts you were traveling with. Where were they headed?"

"To slaughter my people and take the Seer captive, a gift for the Grand Marshall."

"Rohn? Why would he..." Then the reality hit him. The Grand Marshall had allowed Mufaun to do the dirty work so that he, in one swift stroke, could take the prize back to the Emperor and rid himself of the only man who could oppose him.

The troll's form broke, and he was suddenly a human male, strong, lean. He went to the fallen woman's side. "She needs medicine. I cannot treat her here. I must get her back to my people."

A shrill horn blared out from behind them on the trail. The first of the trolls to fall had mustered enough life to blow a single note through his battlehorn, a note that was cut short by four arrows.

But the damage was done. Help would be on the way.

"We will escort you to safety, but we must move now." Rolen gathered his men as the male shifted back to his troll form and hoisted the unconscious woman onto his shoulder.

"Follow me." The troll led the way with Rolen and his men close at his heels, vigilant and wary.

The enemy was coming.

Chapter Seven

Sweat and blood glistened on Mufaun’s face as he stared down the stone monster crouched a mere ten feet from him. The bodies of his men lay strewn about the ground around him but not one of the stone giants had been taken down. Mufaun’s mind was racing. The leather girded hilts of the short swords he held in each hand were damp with his perspiration.

Steed and Rolen stood at Mufaun’s back, facing off with their own stone nightmares, both looked equally worn, equally distressed.

“We can’t keep this up much longer, Mufaun. They must have a weakness.”

Mufaun could feel the despair in Steed’s voice. He’d known the man for years, served with him his entire conscripted life. Despair was not something ever heard in Steed’s voice.

“My lord, this is not the day we die.”

Rolen’s voice was confident in the face of their imminent deaths, and Mufaun would have turned to face him if his eyes had not been fastened to his enemy, watching a long, curved steel blade push through the giant’s chest from behind.

The giant let out a teeth-rattling roar, bringing most of the human soldiers to their knees. The blade was yanked from the giant’s body and the great stone beast thundered to the ground, dead.

Mufaun stared at the troll standing over the lifeless body of the giant. Ruk Stonetoes had a pride unlike any dark animal Mufaun had ever known, unfortunately for the troll, Mufaun knew he could make this enemy bleed. And with the fallen giant, it seemed his enemy had now become his ally.

Mufaun flung himself at the troll that had brought the stone giant down only to be turned aside half way to his mark. Intercepted by another troll, one with far less pride than the enemy Mufaun had meant to engage, Mufaun found this beast just as fierce as he expected. The short swords he carried were turned aside by the trolls great curved blade with skill and purpose as Mufaun was forced to face off with this foe. Their steel weapons sang as they whipped through the air and met each other in wicked arcs and thrusts, Mufaun was by far the better swordsman, and within seconds of engaging the beast, it lay at his feet, massive amounts of dark green blood gurgling from the slashing wound opening his throat. Ruk Stonetoes was no longer waiting.

Mufaun quickly scanned the battlefield for his target but was unable to find him. Steed strode to his side, taking a second to catch his breath, as Mufaun took in the scene a little more deeply. For the first time, what was left of his battalion seemed to be succeeding where it had been failing miserably.

“How are we fairing?”

“Better, with the giants fighting alongside our men. But when there are no more trolls…”

The thought was cut short as an arrow raced between them, lodging in the flat face of a troll that had been intent on attacking the two soldiers as they planned their final stand.

Rolen was at the other end of the long bow that had brought the rather obese troll to a timely end. He made his way over to the two men, one his Captain, the other his Commander.

“I have news, sir.” This time he addressed his Captain.

Steed looked at the man before him, waiting. “Well, what is it?”

“A small contingent of the trolls has left the battle and disappeared into the forest. I followed for a short distance before returning to battle, but I was unable to determine the reason for their retreat.”

“It wasn’t a retreat.” Mufaun could tell by the look in the scout’s eyes that he had expected to hear nothing less. “They’re after the villagers.”

“How would they know where the villagers have gone?” Rolen tracked another troll as it raced across the battlefield and dropped the beast with an arrow that must have pierced whatever heart the animal had.

“That I cannot say, but the possibilities fill me with a dread I don’t care to see become a reality. Take four men with you and follow the beasts to their destination. Wait there for us to follow. Sound your horn if your situation turns dire. I will come to you at all costs.”

Rolen stood there for a moment, staring at his commander, then asked, “Which four men do I take with me, sir?”

“You already know which men to take with you. Go quickly. Time is against us.”

And without further, Rolen turned and raced back into the fierce battle. Mufaun turned to Captain Steed, “It wasn’t suppose to be this way.”

“I know. But this moment, right now, this is our moment. Rule it, like you have ruled every moment that brought us to this place.”

Mufaun laid his right hand on Steed’s shoulder. “I will not forget the friendship you have given me.”

“A friendship you have earned.”

“A friendship I cherish.”

“To arms.”

“To war.”

“For country.”

“For love.”

“For God.”

“For God.” Mufaun looked to where the battle had moved, a small garden courtyard a short distance from where they stood. The carnage of the battle littered the ground before them. Through an alley, Mufaun saw Rolen leading his small band of soldiers into the woods, to what end he didn’t know. He had not meant for the blood of his men to be left on the ground in this place. He swore to himself, to his God, their sacrificed lives would not be in vain.