The Last of the Ageless Read online

  Korreth only managed to gasp because his chainmate objected. He hated to remember how weak he’d been, but he’d suffered through a brutal training session earlier in the day, when Changeling recruits forbidden to use their powers learned to work as a team.

  The guard had lorded over Korreth’s chainmate, demanding he drink the next bowl of broth. To demonstrate what would happen if he didn’t obey, the guard had broken Korreth’s nose. The other slave relented, and the guard forced him to drink bowl after bowl of broth, something most slaves would’ve killed for.

  During the recruits’ afternoon practice, Korreth faced lightning-throwing Changelings. As the recruits learned to work as a team, their dummies suffered shock after shock.

  Korreth’s screaming only made his face and nose hurt worse. At last he understood his chainmate’s willingness to die. He didn’t fear death anymore—he feared surviving another round of the Changelings’ training.

  Near mid-day, Soledad called a halt, pulling Korreth from his reminiscing. The three of them shared dried meat, berries, and crusty bread left over from what the villagers had provided. This time, Soledad also dug out a cloth, peeled an edge back, and broke off a slab of what looked to Korreth like dried mortar. She handed a piece to each of them and then took some herself.

  “Well, eat up. I want you boys strong for whatever may be ahead.” She pulled a tattered map from between some folds in her Ancient clothing and studied it.

  Weary and heartsick, Korreth found himself staring at her, wondering how she managed to hide so many items on her person. He suspected it had something to do with how her clothing could grow and shrink as she changed ages.

  Soledad’s hair beads clacked as her chin tipped toward him. “Set your teeth to eating and your eyes to blinking, spiritless one.”

  Korreth took a big bite and immediately regretted it. Dry and gritty, the food tasted unlike anything else he’d eaten, as though he’d picked up a chunk of dense dirt to chew on. And its salty aftertaste lingered.

  Noticing his distaste, Soledad smiled. Her voice cracked. “Back in my day we called it a ‘vitamin bar.’ It’ll help keep you constant. Now let’s get some rest.”

  Jorrim spoke through his final bite of food, “Tell us more about ‘whatever may be ahead,’ and I bet we’ll protect you better than otherwise.”

  She pulled her boots off and stretched her toes. “It’s been many… decades, since I came this way. I don’t exactly remember what Cerrit’s powers are, either.”

  Jorrim snorted and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “If you want us to help protect you, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

  “As I said, it’s been decades, so for all I know, Cerrit could have hundreds of loyal followers who want to do his bidding in exchange for learning his magic.”

  “And? What kind of magic is that?” Jorrim prodded.

  “If I recall correctly, his study was in projectile weapons, so maybe he wouldn’t need many followers. But Cerrit was always one of the conservative ones… They’re all for burying our knowledge, hiding it away, certainly never studying it. Which is preposterous, since other tribes besides the Ageless may have their own, similar knowledge.” She trailed off, as though lost in thought, “Hiding it away won’t necessarily protect anyone.”

  Jorrim rose to his feet, looming over her. “So you’re just going to send us in there, telling us nothing useful, and expect us to protect you from—what? The unknown? The big bogeyman, who just so happens to be one of your own kind? A kid could run past me in the woods, and when I turn around, he’d be a full-grown man about to club me in the face! That’s all I know about the enemy. How about sharing something that’s actually useful?”

  Korreth cringed, unsure if Jorrim was actually angry or just trying to get a rise out of her. The wind rustled through the dry leaves of a nearby tree, not much taller than Jorrim. Then Soledad exhaled, and Korreth did as well, unaware until then he’d been holding his breath.

  “Sit down,” Soledad said.

  Jorrim abruptly complied.

  Soledad became an older, authoritative woman. When she grew taller, the gray-green fabric didn’t seem to stretch, but grew with her.

  Her voice tinged with anger, she said, “You’re being ridiculous. I’ve wheedled my way into more tribes than you’ve seen in your lifetime, boy. I’ve tricked more mothers into taking me in as a lost orphan—fooled more men into thinking me a helpless girl lost in the woods—convinced more teenagers I was a confused elder in need of assistance, than you’ve even met. You’re cocky, arrogant, young. You think you can take on the world? Don’t try to play me. What you’re really wondering is what kind of power I hold over you.”

  She stood in her stockings, and Korreth’s stomach dropped to the level of his knees. He found his mouth open, searching for words to diffuse the situation, to defend his friend. But Soledad held a hand up to forestall his arguments.

  Jorrim’s eyes glittered.

  Soledad took a breath. “Stand up.”

  Jorrim did so, immediately.

  “Go over to that tree. Climb it.” Her voice full of authority, she watched Jorrim march to the tree with an economy of motion befitting a soldier in an army.

  The branches groaned under Jorrim’s weight. He surmounted the sturdier lower branches and kept climbing. The upper branches drooped, and then the trunk of the tree bent. When Jorrim reached the pinnacle, the tree bowed over, and Jorrim fell to the ground. He immediately pushed himself up and climbed the tree again.

  “Stop. Stand in front of us,” Soledad said, before he could get halfway up the trunk. Jorrim jumped down and stood equidistant from the two of them. Korreth went cold as Jorrim's eyes met his. This was different than before.

  Jorrim was her puppet.

  “Sit down. Now stand up. Sit down again. Run around that tree.” Though her voice carried amusement, anger smoldered in her eyes. “Stop. Sit down. Stand up. Now do five jumping jacks.”

  Korreth didn’t even know what a jumping jack was, but Jorrim’s body snapped into motion, his feet widening beyond shoulder width apart and his hands going out over his head, forming an X shape. Then he snapped his hands and feet against his body like a soldier at attention.

  When he’d done it five times, Soledad paused as though considering her next command. Jorrim’s chest heaved, his eyes staring down at his left arm. The vein at his temple throbbed as he tried to move.

  “Sit down and put your feet behind your head.”

  Jorrim plopped to the ground and twisted one foot behind his head. He steadied himself with one hand while attempting the same with his other foot. His muscular thighs strained, and the cords in his neck stood out. He groaned, the sweat soaking his blond hair flat against his head.

  His struggles made him fall face-first in the dirt, but he still tried until Soledad said, “Enough. Now come over here and punch Korreth in the stomach until I tell you to stop.”

  Korreth gasped as Jorrim got to his feet, unsure of what to do. Since she hadn’t commanded Korreth to do anything, he could obey her implicit order to take the punches, or…

  He dashed away, and Jorrim followed. Before they could go far, their mistress bade them stop. Korreth jerked to a halt, the air compressing his body as though the wind itself wanted to crush him. He heard Jorrim’s breathing not far behind him.

  Time stretched. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.

  Then Korreth heard Soledad’s footsteps. The sweat droplet traveled between his eyebrows, but he couldn’t move to wipe it away. Soledad crossed into his range of vision just as the droplet rolled off the side of his nose and thankfully onto his cheek rather than into his eye.

  Her face devoid of expression, she said, “Jorrim… strangle Korreth to death.”

  Korreth gasped, but could do nothing else. He couldn’t see Jorrim, but at any moment, his friend’s hands would wrap around his neck. He struggled to break the spell, to no avail.

  He closed his eyes and w
aited.

  A girlish giggle made him reopen them. Soledad laughed, bent over double, the shawl falling around her small body like a cape. She waved her hand, and Korreth felt his muscles relax. The terrible spell was broken.

  “You are… insane,” Jorrim said between breaths.

  The girl grinned as she met Korreth’s eyes. “Don’t worry, Korreth. He couldn’t kill you, even if I commanded him to do so a thousand different ways. No order I give can countermand my original spell. Don’t you remember? You can’t attempt to kill me, yourselves, or each other.”

  Korreth tried to take a deep breath, expanding his chest after the crushing vice of the wind. But his breathing remained shallow, quick. Fear clutched at his lungs.

  Soledad smiled, and then gazed past him at Jorrim. “Well, does that answer your question?”

  Korreth stepped aside. Jorrim’s pale cheeks reddened as he lowered his eyes. “Yes, mistress.”

  At nightfall, Korreth awakened to Soledad prodding him with her foot.

  “We need to get moving.”

  “We’ve only slept a few hours,” Jorrim mumbled as he rolled over.

  “Get up,” Soledad said. Korreth and Jorrim rose to sitting positions. “We have to get there by morning. If Cerrit’s still alive, we need to keep him that way and get him onf our side.”

  “Our side?” Jorrim scratched his now-full beard.

  “Let’s go.” Soledad slung a small bag across her shoulder.

  They trekked through the night. In the grasslands, a larger variety of boulders, dense bushes, and tree roots made the going slow. Korreth’s mood worsened with every step.

  By morning, they came upon a two-story cabin at the edge of the forest. A tall tree stood guard at each of its four corners while a few people milled around outside. Korreth also heard people’s voices from either the other side of the cabin or inside of it.

  Soledad aged, still youthful but not delicate like her teenage self, and old enough to know the ways of the world. “Prepare yourselves,” Soledad warned. “We’re going to be the mercenaries Cerrit contacted to protect him, though I’m guessing we’ve come too late.”

  Without weapons or armor? Jorrim tapped, and Korreth wondered why he didn’t say it out loud. Perhaps yesterday’s events had caused him to rethink challenging their mistress.

  A voice boomed from inside the cabin, “Cerrit, what I’m saying is I want an alliance.”

  Loud and powerful, the voice made the entire field go still as small rodents and birds decided whether to freeze or flee.

  “What...” Jorrim’s eyes widened.

  The door banged open, and a few figures raced from the cabin, headed toward the northern forest with children in tow. Korreth shifted his weight from foot to foot in the ankle-high grasses, wondering if lack of sleep had dulled his senses. He wasn’t ready for a fight, if it came to that.

  A much smaller, normal male voice replied, “You just want my weapons cache, and I think we both know what the Prophet would have to say about that.”

  Soledad whispered, “We’ve got to get closer.”

  Korreth’s heart raced as she calmly strode toward the cabin, head high in true Changeling fashion. Korreth imagined Jorrim’s exasperated expression mirrored his own as they both waded past several tall bushes.

  He felt naked, going toward danger with no weapon in hand as the big voice boomed once more, “The Prophet became irrelevant the day of the Catastrophe.”

  When Soledad reached a corner of the cabin, she crept around the side, poking her head between the logs and the next corner tree.

  “But his Mandate stands, Zen.”

  Korreth heard Soledad gasp. He peeked around the other side of the tree to see a shaggy-haired old man standing between the cabin and what Korreth could only describe as a giant. His head and arms were covered in shiny metal, and his eyes glowed a demonic red.

  Despite his bent back, the old man’s voice sounded strong as he said, “We agreed to split up the technology and keep it safe until his final prophecy might come to pass. That humans might one day be—”

  “No.” Zen raised one shiny finger. “As far as I’m concerned, humankind will never deserve to hold that much power in their hands ever again. They killed my sister!”

  Korreth wanted to raise his hands to cover his ears, but the giant would probably detect any quick movement near the cabin, since he faced directly toward them.

  “From what I heard, your sister died because she defied the Prophet’s Mandate and shared her technology—”

  Zen let out a roar and reached forward with one arm to lift Cerrit high.

  “How dare you say that!” The giant shook Cerrit like a rag doll. Even from this distance, Korreth heard bones snap.

  With the light of the morning sun behind them, Korreth had trouble making out their features, but he thought he saw the old man’s hair turn a light brown.

  The Ageless spat, “And now you too commit blasphemy against the Prophet and against our own kind. You abuse the technology he assigned to you.”

  “Then let’s see how well you’ve used your technology.” With Cerrit in one hand, Zen made his way toward the cabin.

  Soledad grabbed Korreth’s arm, pulling him back. The three of them shrank out of view, flattening themselves side by side against the cabin’s outer wall. He tried not to run his hands along the rough wooden wall. Giant feet pounded on a staircase, and Korreth listened to the thumping around upstairs for a few minutes.

  “Mistress,” he whispered.

  “They’re coming back out,” she warned. “As soon as their backs are turned, we go in.”

  “Are you—” Jorrim started, but Soledad had already taken up her position by the corner tree again. She beckoned them closer as the giant burst from the cabin with Cerrit slung over his shoulder.

  Korreth thought his heart would stop as he followed Soledad around the corner. She pushed into the cabin while the giant’s back was turned.

  Once inside, Korreth and Jorrim took up positions on either side of the door. Korreth glanced around to ensure they were in fact alone, but he didn’t check to see what Soledad was doing. His eyes were glued to the scene outside. The giant pushed Cerrit off his shoulder, and the Ageless landed heavily on the ground.

  “Take this,” the giant held a gun out to Cerrit. Once the Ageless rose to his feet and grabbed the weapon, Zen continued, “If you won’t join me, then use your precious technology. Let’s pit my cybernetics against your advanced weaponry.”

  As the now brown-haired Ageless faced his enemy, Korreth marveled at the metal plates the giant wore to protect himself. Zen’s flesh only showed on his joints, his face, and his neck. The smaller man still stood a chance of killing him.

  Korreth suppressed a groan when Cerrit tossed the weapon into the bushes. “I refuse to misuse my technology as you’ve clearly done with yours, Zen.”

  “That’s fine,” the giant said, his human mouth twitching up into a smirk. “I don’t need you or your technology for what I plan. It’s too bad you won’t live to see what a world under Ageless rule looks like.”

  Cerrit punched him in the gut. He shook his hand as Zen laughed at his pain. “You can thank Henka for sharing her technology with me.”

  Zen pulled open his shirt to show just how much metal covered his body. Cerrit let out a cry and began striking the giant everywhere he could, even between his legs, to no effect. The giant scooped Cerrit up in one hand again. Before the Ageless could yell or plead, Zen’s other hand covered his head.

  With a twist, Zen pulled both hands apart. Cerrit’s head ripped from his shoulders. Blood sprayed across the field in an arc.

  For a moment, the giant stood silhouetted in the morning sun with his hands outstretched. Then he dropped both pieces of the body to the ground.

  Korreth shrank back into the shadows of the cabin and took a deep, shuddering breath. His mind whirled. He simultaneously wanted to run as far away as he could, and to find a place somewhere deep within the c
abin to cower. He’d faced plenty of Changelings in the past, but never one this intimidating.

  A shout went up outside, and despite himself, Korreth peeked around the doorway once more. A short man with a bald head raced across the field and picked up the gun Cerrit had tossed aside. He raised the weapon and fired.

  The projectile bounced off the giant’s metal shoulder.

  Both figures stared at each other.

  “Your master deserved to die,” the giant said. “He was a fool for not keeping the knowledge alive.”

  He scooped up the much smaller man, and Korreth ducked back behind the door frame. He didn’t want to see anyone else suffer the same fate as Cerrit. He waited for the horrible sound of bones grinding and popping, of flesh tearing.

  Zen’s voice gentled. “Tell me of any other caches of technology you know of, and I will let you live. Any other Ancient artifacts or magic, too.”

  “Why would I help you, monster?”

  “I just told you why. Don’t you want to see your family again? Or would you prefer their last memory of you to be of your mangled body lying next to Cerrit’s headless one?”

  Don’t send him north, Korreth thought, his eyes squeezed shut. He couldn’t imagine Zen would be interested in the few Ancient artifacts the people of Zhouri possessed, but that might not stop him from tearing apart Korreth’s village to be sure.

  “East of here,” the Purebreed whimpered. “They have some kind of machine to make clothing. We trade with them.”

  “Good,” Zen droned. “What else?”

  “Another place southeast of here has something with wheels... They ride on it. It can go almost as fast as a horse. I f-forget what they call it.”

  Korreth wanted to peek during the silence that followed, but he stayed back. He wondered if Zen was deciding whether to spare the man. “Anything else? How about Changelings who can alter their appearance, their age? Like Cerrit.”

  “We never knew Cerrit could do that.” The man sounded crestfallen but rushed to continue, “But yes, we’ve all heard of the man at Mapleton. He’s a special Changeling. Heals people. Changes ages. And I’ve heard of a wizard who lives in a magic house far from here, across the drylands. Please don’t—”