The Last of the Ageless (46 page)

After frequent transmelding over the past day and night, exhaustion had set in, and Dalan knew defeat. He hoped his distraction had allowed the villagers to flee.

He slipped around the corner of a hut, away from Zen, and slowly transmelded back into the tail-horse, knowing he might need to help carry his companions to safety. Feeling like a coward, he trod as quietly as he could on his three-toed hooves. He took each painful change in his bone structure one at a time.

As he trotted in the direction he’d last seen Caetl, he passed a body. Fresh claw marks marred the corpse’s turquoise-colored skin, making Dalan’s heart jump.

Have you seen Nyr?

She was helping herd the villagers away, as much as they would be herded. I’m not precisely sure where she is right now.

Saquey had shown Nyr trying to get the villagers to flee as well. He shook his head. He wasn’t thinking clearly.
Can’t do anything against that monster. Must flee.

Caetl’s tone was grim.
Trust me, we’re all agreed on that one. Ti’rros said she’s getting us some horses.

Stealing…
Dalan glanced between huts, trying to spot any of the others.

Really not the time, Dalan.

Alright. What of our other enemies?
Nyr might be fighting the Ageless woman and her slaves, who had their weapons back, thanks to him.

They’re not enemies.

What?

Their true enemy is Zen. They think you’re working for him. If we could convince them you’re not on Zen’s side, they might become allies against him.

Then…
Dalan’s mind whirred, remembering how both Ageless women had been convinced Zen was their ‘master.’
Must help them get away, too. And then regroup.

I said they aren’t your enemies. But they’re not friends yet, either. Besides, Soledad has every intention of fighting Zen.

Dalan found Caetl still trying to convince the villagers to leave. “Staying here will only get you killed. Run while you have the chance.”

Dalan scooped him up with his tail as he trotted by and planted the mystic on his back.
Is no point talking to them.

He hadn’t expected how heavy Caetl was, but he couldn’t leave him behind.

Gee, thanks.

Dalan ignored him as his long ears darted back and forth, catching the muttering of the crowd. Some of them guessed he was the jaguar who’d been fighting the giant.

He trotted over to the Ageless woman and her two slaves.
Tell them we need to get out of here. All of us.

“Hello,” Caetl said from Dalan’s back as they approached the threesome. “I’m sure you recognize my friend here, the Changeling named Dalan? You saw him fighting the cyborg, the one called Zen. We’re on the same side.”

A hint of a smile crept onto the dark-skinned man’s face. The pale man’s blue eyes scanned the crowd of villagers behind them with a neutral expression. He held his gun at shoulder level, ready to fire.

“If you could convince them of that as well, we’d be all set,” the Ageless said, motioning toward the villagers.

“I’m afraid there’s no time for that,” Caetl said. “We need to leave and regroup.”

She shook her head. “We
must
defeat Zen.”

Her two slaves stepped back, balking at her words. Dalan guessed they’d seen the cyborg tossing him around like a child’s toy.

“I don’t disagree with you there,” Caetl said. “But we can’t fight the villagers
and
Zen.”

Dalan hated the thought of leaving the villagers behind to be slaughtered, but Nyr and the others had tried to convince them to leave, and so far most of them hadn’t listened. Why they held their borderland homes dearer than their lives, he couldn’t fathom.

He glanced back toward the village and saw stealthy movement beside a flattened hut. Nyr and Ti’rros made their way along the perimeter of the village, leading horses behind.

Dalan sent Saquey in search of Zen. The dragonfly showed him strutting toward Wizard’s hut, where he proceeded to pound on the walls. With enough time, the giant would find a way in.

“Wizard!” the cyborg’s voice boomed, drowning out all other sounds. “All I want to do is talk. I have a proposition for you. It could mean the future of our race. Or our tribe, whatever you prefer to call us. Wizard? I thought of all the Ageless, you might understand.”

Zen’s voice paused, as though listening to what the other Ageless had to say. Then he let out a frustrated roar. “If you won’t come out, I’m not going to waste time tearing your hut down like some wolf in a fairy tale. I’ll just take away your energy source and disable your force fields instead!”

Saquey showed Zen heading toward the three strange trees behind Wizard’s hut. He stopped beside one, and his hands lashed out to grasp its spinning arms. Then he twisted his body and tore the fan off like the head of a flower from its stem.

“We’re too late,” Dalan heard the Ageless woman say. He shook his head and let the vision fade.

“And here I wanted to be the one to kill him.” Nyr, no longer a cat, swung up into a saddle.

She eyed the two slaves suspiciously before handing the other two horses’ reins off to them. A small toddler clutched at the pale man’s neck; it took Dalan a second to recognize her as their Ageless mistress.

“If the amplifier falls into Zen’s hands…” Ti’rros said.

Villagers charged them, knocking the Joey down, and Dalan lost sight of her in the press of bodies.

He was about to wade in himself when Caetl shouted, “Duard, you know me. I’m your friend. Ishan, leave us be! This golden horse is a Changeling, the jaguar who tried to draw the giant away for you. You’ve got big enough problems on your hands without making more enemies!”

A Changeling with a crest of feathers sprouting from her forehead yelled, “Please help us fight the giant!” but two other women chastised her.

Ti’rros freed herself with a sweep of her tail and a blind shot into the crowd. Blue lightning rippled over the bodies of multiple villagers, making a young woman shriek in agony. Nyr dug her heels into her mount’s flanks, and they all dashed after her.

Gunshots rang out behind them, and the two slaves fired from the backs of their horses at the villagers. Dalan hated the thought of any more of the hapless villagers dying due to a misunderstanding.

I know,
Caetl said in his mind.
They’re people I’ve known for years, but it can’t be helped at this point.

A familiar buzzing followed them. The dragonfly zipped upward and zigzagged back and forth to avoid being hit. Dalan’s joints ached as he trailed behind the horses, falling behind due to Caetl’s weight on his back. Ti’rros kept pace with him, occasionally glancing over.

Eventually, Caetl called out, “Stop. Let’s rest a moment.”

Dalan’s front knees buckled, and he collapsed to the dusty ground.

Chapter 23

From his vantage point in the rear of his hut, Liang watched his people throw themselves against the cyborg. His hopes rose, only to be dashed as Zen picked up Ishan and Shujaa and bashed their horned skulls against the outside walls of his hut.

Liang couldn’t believe it—after all his preparations: setting around-the-clock loyal servants to guard his home, improving his force-field technology, sending powerful Changelings out to fight—nothing mattered. Zen had killed Liang’s guards, scared off his collared pawns, and destroyed his windmills.

“Wizard, use your magic and help us,” Siman yelled as he charged Zen with a spear in his hand. The cyborg ripped it from his grasp. As Siman stumbled back, Zen pierced his chest with the spear. Blood gushed from Siman’s mouth, and Liang trembled.

Every time Zen swung, a villager went flying. But one man survived the chaos. Thanks to his extra eyes, Azaiah saw Omun flying through the air toward him and dodged out of the way. Omun’s screams ceased when he hit the ground face-first.

That left Azaiah. He fired round after round at Zen, to no avail. The bullets ricocheted while Zen grinned, blood dripping down his face. Azaiah’s weapon clicked out of bullets, and Liang’s heart sank.

But Azaiah’s tail whipped up with another gun, which he also discharged until empty. When he ran out, he didn’t flee. Instead, he charged straight at the cyborg, who stepped back as though preparing to catch a football.

“Stop,” Liang found himself saying. Azaiah had been loyal to the end. He didn’t deserve this. “Stop! Spare him, Zen. It’s me you want.”

Azaiah stopped in his tracks, obeying the sound of his master’s voice. Even his collared pawns weren’t that obedient, he reflected.

“Wizard, you must flee,” Azaiah said, still facing the cyborg.

Zen straightened, and the glee in his expression faded. “Glad to see you finally grew some balls, Liang. Or is it ‘Wizard’ now? I was beginning to wonder if you were going to let me exterminate the entire village.”

“What do you want, Zen?” Just as Liang worked up some righteous anger, the force fields hummed louder and louder. In the next instant, they all failed at once, their batteries depleted.

Only Liang’s heartbeat filled the void the silence left.

He was trapped, and he fully expected Zen to gloat over his victory. The world shrank, until he stared down at Zen from a long tunnel. Liang willed himself not to faint.

The cyborg rolled his shoulders and said, “Why don’t you invite me in, for old times’ sake? We can talk like civilized colleagues.”

Liang coughed to cover the tremor in his voice. “Fine. Come inside, then.”

Azaiah stepped forward, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He waved him off. Zen would have no qualms destroying the remaining wind turbines and anything—or anyone—that stood in his way.

His only hope was to maneuver Zen under a force field. If he gave the batteries time to recharge, the remaining windmills might bring in enough power for him to cut Zen in half.

He brought two stools to the front room. Zen hesitated, his head brushing the ceiling. His long legs blocked the doorway.

Liang had the sinking sensation he would die just like Rollick. He plunked himself down on one of the stools, feeling numb.

To his surprise, the giant took a deep breath, as though uncertain. “I didn’t come here to kill you.”

Liang stared past his long legs at the pile of bodies outside—faces he recognized, and a few he didn’t. He felt sick.

Zen crossed his arms. “Their deaths are on your head, not mine.” When Liang didn’t argue, he continued, “I take it you heard from our other colleagues that I’ve been on some kind of killing spree.”

Liang couldn’t believe the man’s audacity. “Even if I hadn’t, it’s fairly obvious that you are!” He gestured to the doorway.

Zen frowned, making his red eyes even more ominous. “I meant killing others of our kind.”

“You killed my friend Rollick. Don’t try to deny it.” The anger steadied him.

“I didn’t intend to kill him, just like I didn’t come here to kill you.”

“You mean to tell me Rollick’s death was an accident? That’s—”

Zen put a silver hand up and took another step inside. “No, you misunderstand me. I came to Rollick just like I came to the others, just like I’m coming to you—with a proposal for an alliance.”

Liang needed to draw him through the doorway to the back room. If Zen lumbered in, he felt sure he could time it properly. “Ehhh… I have to say, I’m not sure I believe you. But you haven’t killed me so far. I’m willing to listen.” He rose, backing away.

Zen held up a hand. “Don’t do anything stupid. I’ve dealt with far too many misunderstandings so far, but I have high hopes that you and I can be true allies if you just hear me out. What technology did the Prophet leave you with when he split us apart?”

Liang hesitated at the threshold to the back room. “You destroyed my windmill…”

“What knowledge?”

His knowing smile made Liang wonder if he knew about the amplifier and the K’inTesh devices, but he answered, “The wind energy and force field technology you’ve seen.”

“So you call yourself Wizard, now?”

He dipped his head. “The villagers call me the Wizard.”

“You let the heathens name you?”

The sound of moaning came from outside. One of Zen’s victims wasn’t quite dead. Liang shuddered, afraid to guess whom.

“And I suppose you chose the name Zen because you’re so quiet and meditative?”

The cyborg laughed, his loud voice sending tremors through the walls of the hut.

“Of course not.” His mood swung like a pendulum, suddenly serious. “Rafia used to call me Zen. My sister—my true sister, you understand? My flesh and blood. Despite the Prophet’s Mandate, she was more of a philanthropist than most of us. She shared her knowledge with some Purebreeds, like you’ve done with these Changelings.”

“I haven’t shared everything,” Liang babbled, unsure why he sought this psychopath’s approval.

“Nor did my sister. Her people shunned those early Changelings and hybrids, fearing them for being different. That should’ve been her first clue.”