Endgame

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Book excerpt

Chapter One

On the farthest edges of the Milky Way, a blue-green planet hung in space. For countless millennia, Banikar had kept this world’s existence a secret. It resembled Earth in many ways, but the differences between the whirling spheres of rock made this world, Elystra, special.

He’d watched with sorrowful eyes as Earth, and the human race, fell to the Jegg. Half of humanity, and most of the Terran Confederation, wiped out within months. How his rival had gloated, thinking the game was over, that Banikar’s key pieces were destroyed. He’d demanded Banikar concede defeat. Banikar refused.

Banikar’s opponent in this game, a being as old as time itself, thought he could win this game by overwhelming numbers. The Dark Player, as one of Banikar’s key pieces called his foe, closed his unseen fists around Earth, squeezing it. But just as Banikar hoped, two of the most important pieces in the game slipped through his fingers, making their way to Elystra, where a victor would finally be decided.

Banikar’s focus fractured as he sensed his opponent’s thoughts.

You have played a good game. But victory will soon be mine.

Yes, Banikar agreed, it will soon be over. And when it is, you will depart this region of space forevermore.

Banikar felt a flash of anger pass through his foe.

You created a star, comprised of a material inimical to Jegg technology. I did not think you had such guile in you, Banikar. Or shall I call you “Arantha”?

Banikar allowed his pride to show through. We have played many games, you and I, and despite my numerous victories, your strategy remains unchanged. You are predictable, still clinging to the belief that brute force is all you require. I have proved you wrong countless times, and I will do so again.

I destroyed your star.

As I knew you would. Just as I knew you would give it no further attention after its destruction. The remnants of my star found their way into the hands of my champions ... guided by me, of course.

Not all of them, The Dark Player replied.

Banikar did not respond.

The Dark Player continued. The world you have tried so hard to keep secret, the one place in the galaxy where the Jegg cannot go. As I said, I did not think you had such guile in you. But you have miscalculated. Elystra may be immune to Jegg interference, but not from mine. I have broken through your sphere of obfuscation, and the pawns you thought would bring you victory are now playing for me.

I am aware of what you have done, Banikar retorted. But the endgame approaches. Either my players will achieve victory, or yours will.

Watch, then, The Dark Player said. Watch as your minions fall. Watch as I claim what is mine. Watch as I plunge this galaxy into eternal chaos.

And with that, The Dark Player’s presence faded, dwindling away until it vanished completely.

Chapter Two

Elzaria’s breaths came in labored rasps as she clutched her Stone to her chest. Elzor sat at her side, staring at her sleeping form with a mixture of brotherly concern, impatience, and disappointment. His eyes moved from the Stone in her hand to the one in his, the one she brought him yesterday.

He scowled. The attack on the Ixtrayu had been successful, albeit at a heavy cost: nearly a third of his loyal soldiers, the Elzorath, had perished in the attack. Not only that; the squadron of men he’d sent to retrieve the third Stone had failed, as evidenced by the aliens’ bird-shaped craft that bore down on Elzaria mere moments after her victory. Forced to retreat, she’d brought with her the unconscious, beaten body of the Ixtrayu’s leader, the elemental Wielder, as a bargaining chip.

Elzor stared at his newly acquired Stone, trying to fathom the power locked within its translucent depths. In his sister’s hands, the Stone made her twice as powerful. In his own, it was useless. At least for now.

Hearing heavy footsteps approaching, Elzor hastily wrapped his newly acquired Stone in the folds of one of his cloaks and set it next to Elzaria while draping another cloak over her body. She shifted, but did not wake.

Elzor stepped from the tent to be met by General Langon and Captain Brynak. The sun reflected off Langon’s bald head as he tugged at the clasp of his cloak, which had become entangled with his long, grizzled beard. “My liege,” he said with a bow that Brynak echoed.

“Anything to report, Langon?” Elzor asked, hiding his amusement at his old friend’s mild discomfort.

“Blag, it’s good to be out of that ridiculous Agrusian getup,” he grumbled, finally freeing his beard from the clasp’s grip. “Next time, find me clothes that fit.”

“Langon.”

“Sorry, my liege. All injuries have been treated. The Elzorath are ready to move out at your command.”

Many of the survivors who had accompanied Elzaria to the Vandan border were injured, either by his enemy’s arrows or burned by the Ixtrayu leader’s fire. Elzaria had won the battle by using the same tactic that had secured their victory over the Agrusian army: a deadly blanket of lightning that either killed or incapacitated every Ixtrayu who opposed them. But doing so had weakened her severely, and the two-day ride that ensued nearly killed her. It wasn’t long ago that he would have been confident the Stone would heal her exhausted body, replenish her ability to Wield. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Excellent, General, excellent. Brynak, you have made it clear to the men that there is to be no quarreling or brawling with our Vandan allies?”

“Yes, my liege,” the dark-haired captain replied. “Both armies seem to be giving each other a wide berth.” He grimaced. “Vandan allies. Never thought I’d say those words in the same sentence.”

Against all odds, Elzor’s first meeting with Maxtar had been a success—inasmuch as he was able to walk away from it with his head still attached to his shoulders. He’d talked the Vandan warlord into joining forces with him in attacking Darad. What Elzor hadn’t counted on was Maxtar allying himself with a royal prince of Darad: Agedor, the second son of King Aridor himself.

“Agreed,” Elzor said. “I imagine our mistrust of them is equal to Maxtar’s mistrust of me. Still, I am grateful he agreed to the terms of our alliance. He’s not quite the imbecile I anticipated.”

The men turned to the south. Maxtar and Prince Agedor approached, engaged in low conversation. They hadn’t noticed Elzor or his men yet.

“Agedor will be a problem,” Elzor mused.

“My liege?”

“If I had to guess, that Daradian braga has made Maxtar many promises to curry his favor. I can’t see Maxtar accepting anything less than one-third of Darad’s current territory. How Agedor thinks this will strengthen his position as king is beyond me. He will alienate Darad’s allies, not to mention most of his army. If by some miracle he attains the throne, he will not have it long.” Elzor scoffed. “I have no love for Aridor, but any man who would betray his own family in such a manner …”

The young prince looked up, shooting Elzor a mirthless smile. Elzor returned it with an equally disingenuous one of his own. Without looking at his captain, he said, “Brynak, order the men to prepare themselves to leave at a moment’s notice.”

“Understood, my liege.” Brynak bowed, and walked away.

“Elzor!” Maxtar bellowed as he approached. “A word?”

As when he first came face-to-face with the Vandan leader, Elzor felt more than a little daunted by the man’s towering height, which topped seven feet. Braided knots dotted the hair that dangled both from the back of his head and his chin, and much of his face had been painted with dye. The bluish-black circles that ringed his eyes gave the man a vicious, feral air.

“Yes, Warlord?” Elzor asked with the slightest of bows.

“I’d like ta know how long ya plan ta have both our armies sittin’ idle. With each hour we delay, our enemies could be fortifying their positions.” Maxtar fixed Langon with a bemused smirk. “Nice beard.”

Langon, reticent as ever, simply grunted.

Elzor said, “I recognize the need for expediency, Warlord, but—”

Maxtar interrupted him with a raised hand and a scowl. “My battle plans were laid and set before ye turned up on my doorstep. I have accommodated you, yer sister—” He shot an icy glare at Elzaria’s tent, “—and yer army against my better judgment. My qualities are many, Elzor, but patience is not among them.”

“I understand,” Elzor huffed, “but it would be unwise to plan our next move without her. She is the only one among us with divinatory abilities, not to mention the only one with the power to level our enemies’ forces. To attack Darad without her at full strength would be tantamount to suicide.” Elzor leveled a stony glare at Agedor. “What exactly is your plan, Prince? You’ve been less than forthcoming about the strength of your support. I would like to know just how you plan to get more than two thousand men across the Daradian border without raising every alarm between Ghaldyn Province and Castle Randar.”

“Oh, I’m sure you would.” Agedor used his head to gesture at Maxtar. “But the Warlord and I have been planning this for nearly a season. In that time, I have made certain the soldiers under my command who are loyal to me far outnumber those who aren’t. When the time comes to make the crossing, there will be no resistance. That much I can assure you.”

“And how many men do you bring to this fight?” Elzor asked, his voice dripping with bile. “Are they as willing to betray their king as you?”

Agedor hissed, his hand falling to the hilt of his sword, a motion that did not go unnoticed by Maxtar. The giant Vandan shook his head at the prince, and Agedor hastily moved his hand away.

“Over five hundred men,” Agedor replied through clenched teeth. “And yes, they will follow me even unto death.”

“So that brings our total number to well over three thousand men,” Maxtar said. “If, as your sister envisioned, the bulk of Aridor’s army is still encamped at Promontory Point, then it behooves us to be on our way as soon as possible. They would have to ride for two days to reach Dar, which is still one day less than it would take for us to get there.”

Elzor faced Langon. “General?”

“King Aridor isn’t stupid enough to move his entire army away from the capital,” Langon said. “He’ll have left a sizable force behind. We will likely have to engage them in battle before we even lay eyes on Castle Randar.”

“Will your sister be able to join us for the final push?” Agedor said with no small amount of sarcasm.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” said a voice behind Elzor.

Clad in her form-hugging black dress cinched at the waist by a leather belt, Elzaria stepped from the tent to join them. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of Maxtar, but her awe only lasted a moment. She did not even look Agedor’s way.

In the twenty years since finding the Stone, Elzor watched his sister’s power grow. Her control over lightning was as precise as it was deadly, a precision both the Agrusian army and the Ixtrayu had learned to their dismay.

It was only recently, that Elzaria began experiencing visions through contact with the Stone. While said visions undoubtedly made his quest more attainable, it also had a detrimental effect on her well-being. Elzaria’s hair, once as dark as the night sky, now bore several strands of grey. Her face, which once exuded both strength and beauty, now looked drawn and haggard. It was as if the Stone was aging her body, chipping her soul away one piece at a time with every vision she experienced.

“Sister,” Elzor said with a warm smile. “It is good to see you up and about.”

“Thank you, my liege,” she replied. “The rest has done me a world of good.” She scanned the encampment, as if searching for something. “Where is Kelia?”

“Who?” Agedor asked, his brow knitted.

“The woman they brought in,” Maxtar answered. “Don’t worry about her. She’s been taken care of.”

“What does that mean?” Elzaria asked. “You didn’t kill her, did you? We may need her as leverage to—”

“—to ensure our enemies’ cooperation,” Elzor said, stepping in front of her. With his back to Maxtar and Agedor, he glared at her, hoping to coax her into silence. If there was one thing his allies could never discover, it was the existence of the Stones. If Maxtar or that Daradian whelp had an inkling about his final objective, it would bring their brief alliance to a very messy end.

Elzaria gave a contrite head bow.

“Keeping her alive is a waste of time, if you ask me,” Agedor scoffed.

“I don’t recall asking,” Elzor cut in. “Warlord, I know this is an unusual request, but my sister is right. We have a powerful enemy that cannot be underestimated.”

“Beings from the Above? Are you serious?” Agedor broke into a coarse laugh. “You would have us believe that aliens have dropped from the sky and are now poised to oppose us?”

“Yes,” Elzaria replied. “Their craft is like nothing you have ever seen. As long as the tallest reesa tree and covered in metal from stem to stern. I only caught a glimpse of it, but it was enough. If you don’t believe me, ask any of the hundreds of my brother’s soldiers who also saw it.”

Maxtar held his hand up again. “Don’t worry, I have not disposed of the woman … yet. As of this mornin’, she’s on her way to my encampment at Mount Vaska. My men have strict orders ta keep her under close guard. If she shows any signs of struggle, they’ll render her unconscious.”

Elzor did some mental calculations. Mount Vaska was more than a day’s ride away by merych, in the opposite direction of the Daradian border. If they did indeed move out the next day, then Kelia’s ability to Wield would wane as the distance between her and the Stones increased. All the Vandans had to do was keep Kelia docile until they moved out of range, and she would be powerless. And even if she did manage to free herself, they would have a two-day lead on her. There was little she could do on her own.

“Elzaria,” Elzor asked, “will you excuse us?”

She flicked her eyes between Elzor and their two uneasy allies, then nodded.

“Yes,” Agedor added with a sneer, “go back to your tent. Leave the planning to the men.”

Elzor shot a look of contempt at the young prince, but it was nothing compared to Elzaria’s look of white-hot hatred. She raised her right hand, and Agedor’s eyes went wide as sparks danced and crackled over her fingertips. He took two nervous steps backward, eliciting an icy smile from Elzaria. The sparks vanished and, with a twirl of her cloak, she disappeared back inside the tent.

Langon chuckled, a deep guffaw that he tried to cover up by holding a gloved fist over his mouth. Maxtar’s expression was a mixture of fascination and alarm.

“Just make sure you keep your beast on a leash,” Agedor spat, turning on his heel and walking back the way he came.

“What a braga,” Elzor muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Maxtar to hear.

“Yes,” the Warlord agreed. “The man may have the charm of a festering boil, but we need him. There’ll come a time when we won’t anymore.”

Elzor’s eyebrows raised.

“Yer sister,” Maxtar said in a rather clumsy attempt to appear delicate, “is she … stable?”

“Oh, yes,” Elzor said, looking sidelong at Elzaria’s tent. “She just doesn’t like being treated as inferior.”

“I can tell. Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna piss her off.”

Elzor smirked. “You are smarter than I thought.”

“And now that she seems to have recovered, I trust ye’ll have no objections to movin’ out immediately?” He jerked a thumb in the direction of a blanket of storm clouds approaching from the south. “I think the weather’s gonna turn on us by day’s end.”

“No objections, Warlord,” Elzor said. “My men will be ready to leave within the hour.”

Maxtar nodded his enormous head, and strode away.

Elzaria emerged once again from her tent. She appeared unsteady, but determined.

“Sister—” he began.

“I heard. We ride for Darad.” She exhaled, furrowing her brow.

Elzor placed his hands on her shoulders. “Are you strong enough to ride with us?”

“I believe so,” she said with rather less certainty than he wanted to hear. “But you have a choice to make, brother. Consulting the Stone, though it helps us anticipate our enemies’ moves, drains me more and more each time I do it. If you wish for me to be involved in the upcoming battle, then I cannot utilize this ability anymore.”

Elzor nodded, contemplating his options. He had absolute confidence in his sister’s abilities, as well as those of his men. With her at full strength, they had a good chance to vanquish the Daradian army.

The only thing that could disrupt his careful plans was this mysterious alien woman. Elzor had no idea of the true extent of her power, or her enormous craft’s. For all he knew, she could lay waste to both his and his allies’ forces with but a gesture.

But if the aliens had the power to do this, why didn’t they? If they were advanced enough to build a craft to travel beyond their world, surely their armaments were equally advanced. They could have fired upon his army as they rode away from the Plateau, but they did not.

Perhaps they are not as powerful as they appear, he thought.

Regardless, he had to proceed as planned. The only alternative was to give up, and he’d come too far, endured too much to do that. They would go on, and hope the intelligence who provided Elzaria with her visions would guide them to victory.

“Where are the Stones?” he inquired.

“Safely hidden on my person.”

“Make sure they stay that way, sister. These allies you bade me to seek out would not appreciate what our plans are after Darad falls. I just wish I had another way to obtain the third Stone.”

Elzaria leaned in close, and smiled. “Consider that wish granted.”