Perhaps. ‘Lost to memory’ could mean the symbol vanishes, and of the four, the Deity stones. You thought you had the last with Sarlun’s collection, but he was mistaken. That was created by the Planner. It’s still out there, and if Jules is correct, it’s waiting for us on the First World.

  “There could be something else too,” I reminded him.

  Certainly.

  “Where do we start?” I asked, trying to read his scribbles.

  It’s a pattern. Visit the worlds in a specific order, and you can unlock the final.

  “But there’s just a single symbol,” I told him, checking the markings. They were erratic, slashes of squiggly lines and a four-sided rhombus.

  That is the beginning. Give this to Jules, and she will understand what to do next.

  I reached for the Communicator, hoping we were on the right track.

  ELEVEN

  Hugo was ready to go home. They’d been unable to convince anyone to give up their contest entry, which meant no inside information. Anlise likely wouldn’t care, since she hadn’t planned on attending the events, but Hugo knew the devil was in the details.

  As he thought about the old idiom, a horned beast walked by in the alley, its bright red skin enveloping huge muscles. He was certain this was the same type of creature his own father had met on Traro when searching for Ovalax and Regnig a couple of years ago. Hugo shuddered, and wished he had a jacket on. Seqor was chilly at night.

  “Where’s that taxi?” Casidy mumbled. She leaned on the nearest building, staring into the starry sky.

  “I canceled it.” A man emerged from the shadows, his bulky form startling Hugo. Malir jumped in front of them, as if defending the younger team members.

  “It’s me, Donov the Illustrious.” The man reeked of booze, his movements sloppy.

  “You don’t seem so illustrious,” Casidy uttered.

  “What do you want?” Malir asked.

  “You asked to join this contest. I can help.”

  Hugo squinted as he watched the big man. “Wait, why?”

  “Truthfully, I’ve fallen on hard times. But my intentions are just. I will help you get to the—”

  “No,” Malir said. “Give us your entry or move on.”

  Donov glanced at his hands, as if they might have enough energy to strangle Malir, then let his arms fall to his sides. “Okay. I’d like the payment.”

  “Half,” Malir said.

  Donov straightened, and Hugo sensed a fight incoming. “Fine. I am desperate.”

  “The entry first,” Malir told him, palm out.

  Donov nodded, pulling his watch from the wide wrist it was latched around. He dropped it into Malir’s grip, and Malir passed the coin, tapping off the agreed-upon number of credits.

  “Be careful,” Donov warned as he strolled away whistling a sullen tune.

  “We always are,” Malir replied.

  “No. You don’t understand. I’ve worked for Planetary Providers Inc. before. Ran off a couple races from their homes by feigning invasions. Nix Benah is not the kindly old philanthropist he appears to be,” Donov said. “He’s a bad, bad man.”

  “Thanks for the advice. We already knew that.” Malir moved between Hugo and Cassidy, his gaze not leaving Donov’s back. “Okay, new plan. We stay the night and go to the morning reveal.”

  As much as Hugo preferred to leave through Seqor’s portal room, he found himself dragged into the current of the adventure. He couldn’t run away now.

  “Deal. I’ll tell Anlise.” Casidy used her wrist console, relaying the message.

  Malir peered over her shoulder. “What did she say?”

  “To be cautious. She wants to depart the moment the meeting is finished in the morning,” Casidy said.

  Hugo looked around the street. “Where to?”

  “I saw a place close to the festivities.”

  “Can we afford it?” Casidy asked, making Malir grin.

  “Considering we only spent half the money, I think we can splurge a bit.” Malir took the lead, striding toward the main road.

  They rented a suite in the fanciest accommodations Hugo had ever witnessed. They were brought to the mid-level floor by a three-foot-tall robot, with a projection airing the hotel’s features and amenities from the top of its cranium. Hugo ignored it, knowing they were only here for a pit stop before the beginning of the contest in six hours.

  When they were alone, he unzipped the front of his uniform and sank into an extremely soft cushioned couch. “This is nice.”

  Malir strode to the windows, gazing at the city below. “Seqor is what we need.”

  Hugo hopped to his feet, checking out the scenery with the others. Buildings for as far as the eye could see, everything immaculate and well-maintained. “What are those?” he asked, pointing in the distance at a pair of towering objects.

  Casidy waved a hand over the windowpane, and a control panel appeared.

  “How did you know to do that?” Hugo asked.

  “I saw the concierge doing it downstairs.” Casidy tested the buttons, and a second later, the view zoomed and refocused on her target. Hugo could now see four giant statues bookending a massive courtyard. They had six arms and held round spheres in their outstretched grips.

  Four stones. Deities. The Shandra Valincin.

  Hugo rushed for the exit, and heard Malir shouting for him.

  He didn’t care. This was too important.

  _________

  The light crept into her window, and Jules stretched, glad to have caught a few hours of rest. Slate and Suma were already active, sitting around the cramped table with Flim, who was explaining what they were eating.

  “You’re up,” Slate said, glancing at Jules.

  “I see I’m late to the party.” Jules yawned and noticed a steaming beverage in the compact kitchen. This was all Flim could afford. Jules hadn’t even thought about bringing currency, or finding a way to procure it. Within the Alliance, it was all credited to the Institute when she traveled or visited another world.

  “There’s a shower.” Suma gestured to the one interior door. “It’s automatic, and we couldn’t seem to adjust it, so it ran a little cold.”

  Jules shrugged, deciding a chilly shower was better than none at all. She rushed the process, drying off a few minutes later. Eventually, she emerged and ate whatever mysterious root vegetable was on the menu. She quickly finished the food and downed a cup of something akin to coffee, wishing she had cream to soften it.

  Finally, they were dressed in their armored suits, with the helmets secured in Slate’s pack. She picked up the satchel holding their weapons, and everyone exited the room into the light of dawn.

  “Who are you?” The voice came from Jules’ left, and she threw a blast of air at the source, sending a man tumbling to the street.

  His partner, a reptilian or perhaps amphibious creature, staggered back, trying to avoid the same fate. His thick tail swung behind him, steadying his footing.

  “We mean no harm,” the first guy said, dusting his pants off. His movements were wary, his gaze lingering on Jules.

  “Not that you could,” Slate muttered. “What do you want?”

  The man might be considered handsome, his clothing as dark as his features. He had lines around his eyes and brow, his mouth straight and grimacing. “I saw her speaking with Benah. I was curious as to why.”

  Flim’s fingers settled on his sword. “And who are you to demand such things from a stranger?”

  “My name’s Jaeke. I’m from Zecos Three. Tower City,” he said.

  “I’ve heard of it,” Flim told him. “Terrible place.”

  “For some,” Jaeke agreed.

  Jules was over the small talk. “Why should I tell you anything?”

  “I’m looking for his daughter.”

  “And the First World,” Jaeke’s partner said, his tongue flicking past his white lips.

  “Seems like everyone is on the same trail.” Jules sighed. “Why don’t you go ask Nix Benah yourself? I assume you’re working for him.” She preferred not to discuss anything private with someone linked to the Arnap.

  “Not even close. I was… Anlise and I were a couple. Years ago. She vanished, and I was the detective on the case,” Jaeke said.

  That was interesting. “She didn’t tell you where she was going?”

  “No. I thought she was dead, until Xandr here said otherwise and convinced me to come on this damned escapade with him.”

  Jules watched the alien.

  “You guys must not have been as close as you thought,” Slate told Jaeke.

  The detective tensed, and his chin lowered toward his chest. “You’re right. Maybe I just need closure.”

  Jules guessed he was being truthful, and let her guard down slightly. She assessed his posture, the slope of his shoulders, the way his feet stayed firmly planted. Everything about Jaeke suggested he meant what he said. “I’m looking for my brother. We think he’s with Anlise.”

  He perked up at this. “What did Nix say?”

  “He offered me a starship to bring Anlise to him,” she said.

  “A bounty.” Jaeke cracked his knuckles. “He did the same to me five years ago.”

  “But you couldn’t find her.”

  “No. She obviously intended to be left alone.”

  Suma checked the time and motioned to the building over. “We should be going if we want to hear the directions.”

  Jules had a choice to make. She was already a step ahead. They could travel to the planet Papa suggested might lead them to the First World. Jules preferred not to share this information with anyone yet, but they still needed a portal to leave Seqor through.

  “Jaeke, come with us. Perhaps we can work together,” Jules said. She had two separate missions running parallel, and assumed the tracks might intersect before their completion. Jaeke knew Anlise, while Jules didn’t even have her description.

  Slate tapped Jules on the shoulder. “If we’ve decided to split the prize with another team, we’re obligated to disclose this beforehand.”

  Xandr had remained quiet, but this made him react. “I don’t—”

  “Xandr, you hired me to find the First World for you, and this is how we do it. Sign the agreement and move on.” Jaeke activated a hologram from his watch, and his partner narrowed his gaze before endorsing the file in the air. “Who speaks for you?”

  “Flimorol of the Bopgad,” Jules told them, and the hairy alien added his signature, a tangle of black lines.

  “Then it’s set. We unite to find Anlise and the prize planet,” Jaeke said.

  Slate stepped aside with Jules, his gaze on the newcomers. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Jules?”

  “I think so. He’s obviously still in love with this woman, and Flim doesn’t seem as well-versed in the region as he claimed. We don’t care about the winnings, so why not make the deal?”

  “I hope you’re right,” Slate said.

  Jules assumed he would have come to a different conclusion, and her Uncle Zeke was one of the finest decision-makers she’d ever met. There was a reason he was the captain of an Alliance exploration vessel. “Thanks for trusting me.”

  Slate smiled at the comment and softened his expression. “You’re just like him, you know.”

  “Papa?”

  Slate nodded and strolled after the rest of their group. “He’d have done the exact same thing.”

  “But he’s wrong sometimes,” Jules reminded Slate.

  “True, but he fixes messes he puts himself into. Just like you will.”

  There were hundreds of people waiting outside the hall, and they were gathered into their teams. More hybrids were in attendance, wearing matching silver outfits, holograms scanning passes from overhead drones linked to them. Once a team was processed, they headed through the entrance.

  “I suppose we get in line.” Suma moved to the rear of the procession, and almost bumped into someone. Lance turned and smiled, his hands folded into the ends of his billowing sleeves.

  “If it isn’t the survivors,” he said, his pupils dilated.

  “Why do you call us that?” Jules asked. She’d heard the term used for people making it through the Event, but she wasn’t sure how it traveled this far.

  “Because it’s what you’ve done. Survived. Against all odds, a small race of planet-locked beings managed to rise to the head of your Alliance. It’s a tale for the ages.” Lance took Jules’ hands, and she fought the urge to pull free. “And you, Jules Parker, are unique.”

  Now she did slip from his grasp, averting her gaze. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Come to the front of the line,” Lance said. “You shouldn’t wait with the others. You are too important for delays.”

  Lance strode forward, and Flim began to follow.

  “Who are you guys?” Jaeke whispered.

  They knew nothing about each other, but if they were going to team up, it was only fair to divulge a few details. “We were attacked. Years ago. Long before I was born,” she said. “My father was one of the last remaining people on Earth. And with the help of his allies, the invasion was prevented. Then they destroyed the enemies and returned our population home.”

  Jaeke gawked at her while they went past the waiting teams in line and into the building.

  “Quite remarkable. Tell me, was Nix behind the incursion?” he asked.

  “Nix? No. Why would he have been?” Slate inquired.

  “We’ll get to that.” Jaeke shouldered past a foursome of aliens. They were damp, with pale green skin and eyes the size of coffee mugs.

  The auditorium was filling up, and Lance led them to the lowest level, front and center. “Here you go. Take a seat. The show will begin shortly.” He waved and rushed off.

  “Odd fellow,” Slate muttered.

  “He seems to like us, though,” Suma replied.

  “I have a feeling he wants something from Jules. When we told him about Dean and the Alliance, his excitement was palpable.” Slate peered over his shoulder.

  “Keep an eye out for Hugo. He should be close by,” Jules said, scanning the incoming crowd of aliens. So far, there was no sign of Malir or her brother, and it was beginning to weigh on her.

  Jules studied the stage entrance, where a pair of Arnap stood, hands settled on weapons.

  _________

  I stared at the Communicator, but it remained quiet. It was the middle of the night on Banod, but I was wide awake.

  I knew I should leave, but Regnig’s failing health kept me rooted. He refused to go anywhere for care, but I didn’t necessarily blame him. He was ready to pass, and I couldn’t let him do it alone.

  The little sleep I had experienced was plagued by nightmares. Hugo running in quicksand, his feet moving while his body sank into the pits. Jules floating over him, unable to reach her brother. I doubted it was a premonition, because dreams like this weren’t that uncommon for me. Dr. Swan had suggested the quicksand version was me feeling unable to complete a task. It represented my anxiety at the never-ending to-do list I had created. Check one item off your list, and another three appeared.

  After failing to count sheep, I slipped into a robe and went to Regnig’s living room. The fireplace still had glowing embers in the bottom, giving me enough light to see without waking him up.

  I quietly investigated the room, looking at a few book spines before noticing the open tome spread wide on Regnig’s desk. This was it. His tale of Dean Parker. He’d asked me to read it before, but I couldn’t bring myself to. It felt wrong, too egotistical. Or perhaps I just didn’t choose to rehash the past.

  It was open near the latter half of the book, the right page blank, the left with writing on it.

  I found a candle and used a nearby lighter to spark the wick. Regnig’s chair was far too small for me, so I carried the book and wax light to a chair near the fireplace. It was heavy, and I tried to imagine Regnig moving it.

  Instead of flipping to the start, I went to the glossary.

  The Event

  The Chase

  New Spero

  Missing Mary

  I stopped there, recalling all the hardships I’d endured during that time. I opened to the middle of the section and read.

  I’d been living my days as a recluse, refusing to open up to anyone. When Garo sent this young man to my door, I’d been hesitant to speak with him. The moment he saw me, there was a connection. There he was, a capable hero, asking a two-foot-tall Toquil for assistance. He was never rude or forceful, but I did sense the anger, and my first instinct was to protect myself. Dean Parker carried a flood of emotions, threatening to overwhelm me with each encounter.

  He stormed in, suggesting the Iskios were freed, and they’d taken his wife. Rather than listening, I shouted at him, claiming it was impossible. I was a historian, an intellect, studying these subjects from years gone by. They were only stories in texts, not reality. I quickly learned that wasn’t true, because the more time I spent with Dean, the more he proved he was indeed the Recaster.

  I stopped, smirking as I recalled that interaction. I’d been so anxious to locate a starting point to the Iskios. I was desperate, gasping the air for another breath. With Mary gone, my mind had been completely focused on recovering her. And there Regnig was, a beam of light in my dreary, clouded thoughts.

  Over the years, I’ve seen Dean Parker in many different circumstances. But that instant, I knew he was dangerous.

  My teeth clenched, and I almost bit my tongue. “Dangerous?” I whispered.

  The Recaster was never intended to be one side of the balance. That wouldn’t work. They required darkness to counter the light.

  I wondered when he’d written this, because I sounded a lot like the Amendors, or the Planner I’d defeated only a year ago. I checked the annotations, finding he’d penned this section about three years before those events.

  For all the bluster, I discovered the best friend I’d ever had. And helping Dean, his family and allies, has been the greatest pleasure of my existence. But enough about my life; I am here to tell Dean’s story, and not bore you with the inner musings of a Toquil.

  I flipped through the pages, smiling as I saw my last twenty years laid out on paper. He had it all. Fontem, Lom of Pleva, the dreaded wraith Collector, the Hunter that fed on our people on New Spero. There were so many adversaries and colleagues over the span since the Event.

 

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