Page 26 of Interlude

Xavier takes a seat on his single bed and leans back, finally calming. “There were six, correct?”

“Yes, life and death as well as four elemental gods. Each of them was responsible for creating life throughout the galaxy. For example, Aaz’axians were created by the goddess of death, same with Vilaxians. Una’s come from the goddess of life. Obviously, each elemental species comes from one of the corresponding gods. Aquilians are from the water elemental god and so on.”

“Okay, and each of these deities were worshiped by their creations. So what happened? Why did it stop?” I ask, fascinated by this new piece of history.

“And where did they go?” Xavier is less fascinated and more suspicious. “If they were so powerful, then how could they have disappeared?”

“Nobody seems to know. It was right before the Una’s orb of power became common knowledge and war broke out. With that happening, I guess the knowledge of the gods was forgotten, and when the war came to an end, the council was formed.”

“They just disappeared? Poof.” Xavier makes an exploding motion with his hands. “They couldn’t have been all that powerful then.”

Brannock shrugs, the membrane floating between his spines, rippling prettily with the movement. “Maybe without worship, their power diminished, or maybe they were sick of this galaxy and their wars and petty jealousies, so they left our realm in search of somewhere else to colonize. I guess we’ll never know.” He side-eyes Xavier and smirks. “Or they could be hiding in plain sight, waiting for the right moment to reveal themselves to the galaxy again.”

Xavier blinks then scoffs. “You think an almighty god with the power of creation would lower themselves to be a creature repellant for some greedy entrepreneurs? Not likely.”

Brannock chuckles. “No, it’s not likely, but it made you stop and think. The galaxy is huge, and we really don’t know everything that’s out there. Warlocks came from another dimension, so what’s to say there isn’t another powerful race somewhere out there who did the same thing?”

This has Xavier frowning as he takes in what Brannock just said. “Fuck, I had never considered that,” he admits, rubbing a hand over his chin in thought. “We managed to rip a hole in the fabric of the realms, so I’m sure there are others capable of doing the same.”

“Exactly.”

“Which means Lila is in more danger than I thought. Maybe we should abort this mission,” he suggests, looking at me, and I see the worry in his eyes.

“Uh-uh, no way. This mission is a go,” I argue with him, shaking my head. “We aren’t turning around now, my grandpas would be devastated. Look, we have Tirrian following us in the air, and Saxon and Silac on standby to beam down if anything goes sideways. Ghosie is ready to do his thing with the stasis box. We have this. I’m going to mimic this repelling creature, and we’re going to go into the heart of the death forest and bring my grandma back. I’ve been thinking about it, and if worse comes to worse, I’ll assume the necro form and suck out the souls of everything that comes at us. These things may be dangerous, but surely they aren’t unkillable.”

I watch him roll my argument around in his head, but he finally nods. “Okay. You’re right. We can’t leave Liliana trapped forever, but don’t take any risks, Lila. Your grandpas would be inconsolable if anything happened to you, not to mention your mates would be shattered beyond recognition.”

I agree to his requests, liking my life a little too much to risk it to such extreme degrees. If we have to abort, then we will come up with another plan, but I have to at least try this first.

Brannock and Xavier decide to wear their glamours and continue mingling with the rest of the crew to see if they can get any more information on the planet—mostly how far away the halla fields are from the death forest. I decide to nap. There isn’t anything else to do while we wait, and we still have one more day of travel. I just hope the galaxy ship on our tail is cloaked.

I drift off to sleep, and my dreams are weird. I see flashes of beautiful, glowing creatures creating worlds and watching over them like benevolent overseers. Their creations are happy and thriving, and I instinctively know that the earlier conversation about creation gods must have triggered these dreams. These are most definitely godlike beings, but then little by little, the mood of the dreamscape starts to change. I feel envy and jealousy pulsing from one of the beings, but when I try to look closer, I can’t make out which god it is. Then things shift, and there is infighting, petty arguments that turn to scheming before a massive betrayal. It’s all a jumbled, blurry rush of images, sights, and sounds, and all these feelings don’t point to the reason why or how.

I toss and turn as the scenes move from the gods to their creations. I watch as the Una’s appear with the orb of power, sharing it amongst the galaxy, and then the mood changes, getting darker. I watch as the Aaz’axian leadership discovers they can harness that power into a weapon. The Una’s heartbreak is like a stab in the chest, and I watch on as they retrieve the power they shared, locking it into the orb once more. The Aaz’axians’ fury thrums in my soul like it’s my own, and I flinch in my sleep.

The scene changes again, and this time I feel my cheeks grow damp as tears trickle down my face. I watch on, helpless to do anything but be a captive audience to the war amongst the galaxy, unable to wake myself from this nightmare, as the Aaz’axian leadership forces their people to decimate the Una’s and anyone who gets in their way. Bodies lie broken and unmoving in the wake of the Aaz’axian forces. I observe in horror as the Aaz’axians try to refuse the command chip, and they end up dying along with the people they are trying to subjugate. The Aaz’axian women get sick and start dying, and the Una’s are reduced to mere hundreds. Reel after reel of death, destruction, and devastation play out.

Finally, I see the Una’s on Skar, meeting with an Adams ancestor, and I watch as the remaining Una’s are absorbed into the orb, sacrificing themselves to smother the power signature of the orb so there is no way of it being found. Then, I hear the whispered words, “You are the key, Lila Adams.”

I sit bolt upright, my breath heaving from my chest, and my body damp with sweat. I wipe at my tear-stained cheeks as I replay everything in my mind, getting stuck on those final murmured words. The key? How am I the key? Surely my dreams were just a product of my overactive imagination after the conversation with Brannock and Xavier. Who knows if that’s what happened? My mind is trying to make sense of it all and is creating its own scenarios. I get up and go to the sink in the small, attached bathroom, getting myself a glass of water. I drink the whole thing down, trying to soothe my overheated body and scratchy throat. Note to self—no heavy conversations before bedtime. My overactive imagination extends into my dreams and makes getting a restful night’s sleep impossible.

Feeling drained and mentally exhausted, I climb back into bed. I kind of wish Xavier was here. I could use a little distraction, but I know he won’t drop his guard while we are on a ship with unknowns, so I close my eyes and hope that when I sleep, my dreams will be filled with sexy times with my mates or spending time with my children instead of gruesome clips of war and destruction.

We have finally arrived in orbit around Husadavia. We are instructed to meet after breakfast in the transporter room where we will be beamed down to the planet. The harvesting equipment has already been sent ahead and will be waiting the moment we touch down.

“There are eight different fields of halla fruit spread across the planet. One of them sits on the very edge of the death forest. We need to make our move then,” Brannock explains quietly as we sit at a table, eating our breakfast.

“When do we get to that field?” I ask, knowing they have memorized the schedule.

“It’s on the third day in the afternoon,” Xavier tells me, taking a sip of his drink. I’m really not hungry, since my nerves are pretty high, but I attempt to eat the meal in front of me. It’s a brown gruel-like mixture that is supposed to be hearty and filling for the workers. It doesn’t taste too bad, like oatmeal with some brown sugar mixed into it.

Apparently, we will spend eight hours a day harvesting before returning to the ship to rest overnight before starting again. Lunch will be provided down on the planet in the form of sandwiches and fruit, and dinner will be served when we return.

“We probably have four hours of daylight to find her before it gets dark, and from my experience during the war, we don’t want to be on the planet in the dark,” Brannock tells us. “Most of the creatures on this planet are nocturnal. During the day, we only have to contend with the aggressive plants and one or two smaller predators. At night, the large predators will create insurmountable odds. It’s when we lost most of our regiment when we tried to establish a base here.”

That’s right, I forgot that was one of the main reasons he was part of the mission—his previous experience.

“But the small daytime predators are in large numbers, which is what makes them dangerous. If there were only one or two, you would have no problem defending yourself against them, but there are so many of them that they can decimate a being in seconds. The plants are just as aggressive. Most of them are triggered by movement, because they survive on consuming the smaller animals. There’s also a vine which will wrap you up, paralyze you, and then consume you over a period of time.”

---