Light of Alandri: Rulers of the Galaxy, #2

By M.R. Anglin

The Sun Prince and Moon Princess have been restored to their thrones, and the Scribe of Eschelion has returned to her duties in the Imperial Palace. Peace has returned to Geon . . .

 

Or so it seems.

 

In his attempt to conquer the sun, Junen destabilized several of the planets' orbits and left Helio severely weakened. Cosmic enemies eager to prey on Helio's weakness hover just outside the solar system, waiting for an opening to attack and plow through the system and to the galaxy beyond. A solution must be found. The Guardians need the Scribe of Eschelion to meet with them in order to determine how best to solve this quandry, or else all life in the system—and the galaxy—will be lost.

 

Alandri knows Shielle holds the key to resolving their planetary dilemma, but first she needs Shielle and Marcos to reestablish their love, broken by a devastating misunderstanding. It will take all her wits and cunning to persuade them to face the hardships of reconciliation because Shielle has been targeted by a powerful cosmic force. Without love's protection, she will be abducted as soon as she sets foot outside of Geon's atmosphere . . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: M.R. Anglin
• Release date: Mar 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393072690

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

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The human world had a saying which always made Plandte smile: Great things come in small packages. As the Guardian of Plútz, the smallest and most distant planet in the solar system, Plandte embodied the saying. He grinned as he stood on the north pole of his planet, a black, frost encrusted desert, his dark cape flowing in the solar wind. The pale yellow star—all which was visible of the sun—reflected off the planet’s surface, encasing everything in a golden haze. The light gave him his power. Though the sun shone weaker here than on any other planet in the system, Plandte could use it the most effectively.

Plandte peered through the cloud of cosmic dust separating the solar system from the universe at large. It was his job to watch and raise the alarm if any of their enemies broke through this line.

But in all his standard years of existence, no one had.

Plandte smirked to himself. Who would think this, the least of the planets, would be the most important and one of the most powerful?  For he, Plandte—and the moons orbiting his planet—stood as the solar system’s first line of defense. As such, he had the power to repel any invader, despite its size or power.

Sir! Diton, the chief Guardian of Plútz’ moons, appeared beside him. His skin was covered in greenish-gray scales, his tail short and pointed, and his head only reached Plandte’s waist.

Report.  Plandte turned his attention off his pride and onto the cosmic dust cloud.

Everything’s quiet, sir. Diton narrowed his slitted eyes. A little too quiet, if you ask me. The moons are uneasy.

I thought it was quiet too. Plandte clenched his teeth so hard his jaw muscle jumped. And the sun feels odd, don’t you think?

Diton stiffened, the spines on his tail rising. We all figured it was our imagination, sir, since you hadn’t said anything about it.

I’m saying something about it now. Plandte crossed his arms. Any word from the asteroids in the dust field?

We haven’t heard anything from them in one standard week, sir. Diton focused his gaze to the cosmic dust cloud. I sent Naron to check up on them, but he hasn’t returned.

Send a message to Helio and Lumina. Something is wrong. While you’re gone, I’ll try to re-establish communication with him.

Sir! Diton vanished.

With a grunt, Plandte pushed off his planet. Flying through the void, he entered the cosmic cloud—a collection of fine dust suspended in space. Here, visibility remained low at all times, making it equally easy for Plandte’s allies and his enemies to hide in. He’d have to be careful and watch his back—

Something plowed into him, flinging him back through the cosmic dust. He tumbled through space, righting himself above his planet. White spots peppered his vision.

Through the dust emerged a dark figure. He was dressed in black . . . no, he was black . . . as black as space. Only his pale eyes glistened in the sun’s light. Plandte picked him out from the background where his shape blocked the grayness shed by the dust cloud. But this creature had an air about him—a power he could not hide.

Voidaut. Plandte planted his feet on his planet. He’d have to be careful fighting this black hole Guardian. From a distance Plandte would be able to repel him, but if he got close enough to breach the voidaut’s event horizon, all Plandte’s powers would be negated.

But it wasn’t too troublesome. Plandte had faced these creatures before. Leave this space. You have no business here.

The voidaut smirked. Plandte realized this because he saw the creature’s teeth. The voidaut clenched his hand into a fist. Drawing energy from the sun, Plandte ran it across Plútz’ surface to change it into a force he could use, and flung it at the voidaut.

It smashed into the creature, flinging his head back. The voidaut massaged his jaw. Then he smiled, a grin which slithered across his face.

Plandte inhaled through his teeth. The shot should have propelled the creature back through the dust cloud. He reached for the sun and realized . . . the sun felt odd because it was too weak.

The voidaut raised his hands over his head. Plandte felt him pulling power from his black hole—possibly thousands of light years away from them. In response, Plandte drew as much of the sun’s energy as he could to build a barrier around his planet and moons.

The voidaut threw his ball of power. It plowed right through the barrier and flung Plandte onto the surface of his planet. Clenching his teeth, Plandte snarled. He should be stronger than this. What happened to the sun?

The voidaut landed on Plútz, his weight causing the entire planet to shift. An icy chill gripped Plandte’s heart as he clawed at the dirt on the surface of Plútz. He felt nothing. He had breached the voidaut’s event horizon.

The voidaut stood over Plandte. Now that he was within the glow of Plútz’ atmosphere, Plandte saw him more clearly. His white eyes had no pupils, and his corneas were black. He wore a hood over white hair which flowed and floated like dandelion fluff. And he stood taller than Plandte had first realized. With a laugh akin to a growl, he shoved a foot on Plandte’s chest.

Plandte, sir! Shren, another one of Plandte’s moon Guardians, rushed toward him. He felt her power building up.

Stay away! Plandte threw his hand out to stop her.

Without looking at her, the voidaut stretched out his hand. Shren dropped to her knees, clutching at her throat.

Shren! Plandte watched as she collapsed on the planet. Her moon drifted out of orbit.

That was easier than killing the humans. The voidaut grinned wider before he plunged back into the cosmic cloud. Plandte scrambled to his feet. First he used Plútz’ gravity to catch the drifting moon. Then he rushed over to Shren.

The other two of his five moon Guardians stood over her. Plandte pushed through them and halted. The pale sun glinted off her motionless silver scales. Without examining her, Plandte could tell she was already dead.

CHAPTER 2

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Alandri lifted her hair and let it fall through her fingers onto her shoulders. Thus started the daily question of what she would wear today . . . at least, daily in relation to her planet, Melíne. Being closer to the sun and having a slower rotation, the planet’s days were 200 times the length of Geon’s days. In other words, one day on Melíne equaled 200 days on Geon. All the planets in the solar system had different day lengths, so for clarity, they used Geon, a planet with no Guardian, for a constant. This meant 24 hours in a standard day, 360 days in a standard year. But on Melíne, Alandri stuck with her own timing.

Alandri chose to keep the rotation of her planet slow because she loved looking down at Geon in the sunlight. During Melíne’s nights, she would take her time maintaining the many gardens, fountains, and waterfalls on its surface. Everything had to be the perfect shade of pink, yellow, or purple. Alandri couldn’t stand for anything less.

Now what to wear . . . ? Alandri turned away from her mirror as she considered the question. After all, she knew what she looked like—glossy, pink hair; pale, rosy skin; bright, magenta eyes, but . . . time for a change. She snapped her fingers. A shade of dark brown flowed through the strands of her tresses.

Fabulous. She ran her fingers through to examine it. But now how about a different complexion?

Someone knocked at her door.

Unlike the other Planetary Guardians, Alandri chose to set up her palace on Melíne the same way humans set up theirs. Which meant her bedroom—a thing the other Guardians would never dream of having—had a bed, a mirror, a vanity, a closet, and a door. It was rather inconvenient at times—having to look through the door to see who had come to visit—but at other times she liked the surprise.

Come in. She snapped her fingers. Her complexion became darker and more coppery. Cute.

Neera, the chief of Melíne’s three moon Guardians, floated in, holding a clipboard in her hands. Alandri loved looking at Neera’s adorable face. She had pink fur, a long tail like a lion’s, two wings peeking from her back, and dark pink hair caught up in a pigtails. Plus, she had the cutest button nose. It reminded Alandri of those stuffed toys human children liked to sleep with.

Good morning, ma’am. I—  Neera froze in the doorway. You’ve changed your look.

The sun is rising, and it’s about time I visited Geon. Alandri struck a pose. You know how I like to dress up for him. Now . . . I want to change my body type to match my hair and skin. Her waistline grew, she shrank in height, and her chest deflated a bit. Ooo!  Hips! She said when she had discovered them. No wonder humans are all fascinated with themselves. What do you think, hon?

It’s beautiful, but . . . Neera held the clipboard to her chest. I don’t know about pink eyes with brown hair.

You are absolutely right. That’s why I love you. What do you think?  Blue, green, brown, hazel, gray . . . Alandri blinked, each time changing her eye color.

Ooo! Hazel. Neera clapped her hands. You haven’t done hazel in a while.

Hazel, it is. Alandri blinked her eyes, transforming them to hazel. Now, why are you here?

Of course. Sorry. Neera held her clipboard in front of her. Lumina and Helio have called a meeting of the Guardians. Maro just delivered the notice to us.

So we’re finally going to do something about Junen, are we? Alandri examined herself in the mirror. It’s about time. He set back all my plans with his ill-conceived attack.

Oh, and . . . Neera growled a bit, baring her teeth. Our guest his here.

Alandri let her shoulders slump. Didn’t he leave?

He was spending time in the sunlight. Neera’s tail lashed her legs. Melíne’s healing abilities are greater when the sun hits it.

It’s been ten standard years already. Alandri put a hand on her hip. When is he going to go?

Can’t you kick him off the planet? Neera shivered. Having a voidaut so close gives me the creeps. Poor Mie has the shakes whenever she has to go near him.

I’m bound by orders from Shiverlaine. As long as he shows no threat to the solar system, I have to harbor any Cosmic Guardian which comes our way . . . despite how unsavory he is. Are you moons keeping an eye on him?

Yes, ma’am. Neera bowed.

It’s all we can do, then. Alandri circled her hand in the air. A pink portal appeared before her. I’m going to make myself scarce before he shows up. Get rid of him by the time I come back, please. I have to harbor him, but he doesn’t have to be in my palace.

Yes, ma’am.

Alandri sighed as she stepped through the portal. Her planned trip to Geon would have to wait.

CHAPTER 3

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Every time Lumina set foot on the surface of the sun, its brilliance blinded her. She paused for her eyes to adjust. Once they had, she picked out orange trees, red flowers, and yellow vegetation similar to Geon’s grass blowing in the solar wind. They all had a haze around them, like a shimmering flame, and they all made a faint crackling sound, like a blazing fire. A river of golden liquid flowed across the sun’s surface. Towering over it all was the Sun Tower, a structure made out of a substance akin to the metal the humans called gold. Lumina shielded her eyes and squinted at it. Helio stood on the top balcony, gazing out over the landscape.

Lumina strode into the tower, scaled the stairs, and emerged at the room leading to the balcony. There was nothing in here—only a stand holding the sunstone which corresponded to the one in Geon’s Sun Tower. She crossed the room but waited at the arch leading out to the balcony. Helio had his eyes closed and his head tilted up. He was working hard on a calculation.

Lumina bit her lips together. Normally, he could figure these calculations instantly. If he had to think this hard, she knew what he was trying to sort out.

Helio sighed, his shoulders dropping. He crumpled against the balcony’s railing.

Any luck? Lumina said, though by the way he stood she knew the answer.

Helio glanced at her over his shoulder. I’ve done the calculations over and over a hundred times, but there is no way the Convergence will happen. What are we going to do?  I’m so tired I can barely feel Plútz much less its moons.

You need to conserve your energy, Helio. Lumina walked over to him. I’ve called the Guardians together. It’s time to tell them what is happening. We can no longer handle this problem on our own.

Junen! Helio struck his fist against the railing. When he removed his fist, it left a dent. Why did he have to pull all of this now?

We’ll take care of it. Lumina pressed his hands in hers. After the Day of Convergence, he’ll get what’s coming to him.

If we survive.

Don’t speak like that. You can’t give up now. We have to find a way.

You’re so optimistic. Helio squeezed Lumina’s hand. Thank you, Lumina. I couldn’t do this without you.

Lumina turned her face away from him. The heat of the sun had gotten intense all of a sudden . . . at least, her cheeks felt curiously warm.

We should go. Lumina swept her hand in a circle. A gray portal appeared before them. She extended her hand to him. Shall we?

Helio took her hand, and together they stepped through the portal.

CHAPTER 4

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Staticky hold music assaulted Marcos’s ears while he waited for someone to pick up the line on the other end of the phone. He hated hold music. It was useless and did nothing to soothe his impatience, so he swung around in his chair, allowing his eyes to rove around his apartment—just to give him something to do. Besides his chair and desk, his room had a bed, a bookshelf, and a chest of drawers. The curtain over the window was drawn, leaving the room in darkness. Ah, the soothing darkness . . . even after being away from the Northern Kingdom for thirteen years, Marcos still craved his homeland’s pattern of light and darkness. With Fall coming on, there was less and less sunlight shining on the North. Soon, it would be dark all day and all night.

Come on! Marcos shifted in his chair. The music was getting on his last nerve. For six months, he had been making calls like this, and he had yet to get the answers he sought.

The music cut off, and a feminine voice said, Annagotta Mines, Inc. Thanks for holding. How may I help you?

Marcos sat up in his chair. This is Marcos Senaire, calling on behalf of Shielle Argos, the Scribe of Eschelion. To whom am I speaking? He spoke loud and fast. It tended put the person on the other end of the line off guard.

Um . . . this is Natalie. From the sound of her voice, Marcos’s strategy worked.

Good morning, Natalie. Marcos slowed his speech and enunciated every syllable. It tended to ease the other person after being so shaken and made them a bit more amiable. I’m calling in regards to purchase order #: 350-593A.

One second, sir. Let me look it up. Natalie tapped her computer keys. Yes, sir. I have it here.

Marcos leaned back in his chair, using his pencil to gesture. As you can see there, this was an order for a rather large assortment of planet gems delivered to the Excella Jewelry Co. Can you tell me who ordered them?

I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t.

Marcos stopped himself before he slammed the pencil down. This is where he always got held up. But he did his best to keep annoyance from tainting his voice. May I ask why not?

Revealing such information would be a breach of our privacy policy.

Marcos paused. This was the first time he’d heard such information. Correct me if I’m wrong, Natalie, but isn’t it a part of your policy to release information in response to a subpoena or other such documents?

Natalie hesitated. When she spoke again, her voice was shaky. Yes, sir.

Don’t be so nervous, Natalie. You’ve been a great help. Thank you. Marcos hung up the phone. This is a lucky break. Once I gather the appropriate documents, I can at last figure out where Junen got all those Junen’s Eye planet gems he used against Helio and Lumina. And to do so, I’ll have to visit the palace where my sweet Shielle is waiting for me. He grinned. Any excuse to visit Shielle was a welcome one—especially since he hadn’t seen her since yesterday. Breaks like this could almost make him learn to like hold music. Almost.

Humming a peppy tune, Marcos threw on a coat and darted out the door.

CHAPTER 5

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If the computer Shielle was working on had any feelings, they’d be hurt, wondering why she was pounding on its keys so hard. After all, it wasn’t being particularly slow and launched whichever programs she wanted without errors. It even ran all her searches with exceptional accuracy. But Shielle’s mood wasn’t the computer’s fault. The flickering light of the screen, the monotony of the clicking keys, and the constant whirr of its motor should have allowed her to sink into the hypnotic effect of her research. But one thing kept yanking her out of it . . . one thing kept her ire up and made her hammer the keys in irritation.

He’s no good for you. Sherry stood behind Shielle’s chair with her arms crossed. You need to break it off with him. I’m certain—are you listening to me, Shielle?

There’s no way I could avoid listening to you, Sherry. Shielle tapped her finger on the console. She couldn’t concentrate with her sister looming.

Shielle’s computer lab in the Eschelion Imperial Palace was suited to nothing more than research. In the light of the lamp and the computer, Shielle spied books she had yet to organize stacked on bookshelves, papers strewn over every surface, sun and moonstones scattered all over her desk, and folders with all the information she could find on Cosmic Guardian anatomy. She flipped open a composition notebook—the one she had started writing in response to the wound Junen had inflicted on Lumina during an attack this past spring. He had used a planet gem called a Junen’s Eye to poison the lunar Guardian. Since Lumina’s recovery—thanks in part to Sun Prince Joshua and Marcos—Shielle promised herself never to be caught off-guard again.

Sherry smashed a palm onto the notebook, slamming it shut. Is my presence here distracting you? The motion caused Sherry’s hair to bounce. She kept it long in the front and short in the back, and its black hue framed her dark skin and brown eyes. Shielle’s skin, in contrast, was a shade or two lighter than her sister’s, and her hair was a mane of curls.

As a matter of fact, it is. Shielle ran a finger along the top of her dusty keyboard. I told you so earlier, but you don’t seem to care.

Excuse me for showing concern for my baby sister.

Shielle motioned to the computer screen. I’d appreciate your concern more if you didn’t show it when I’m trying to work.

"I would wait until you’re done, but the few times I ever see you outside this room, you’re always with him."

He has a name. Shielle typed on her computer, more to give her hands something to do than because she needed to type.

Sherry leaned on the back of Shielle’s chair, her lips so close to Shielle’s ears that they tickled. Need I remind you Saguchi also didn’t want you to date him?

At the sound of his name, all the time Shielle had spent with her mentor flooded back to her. His death was the hardest thing Shielle had ever been through. Dropping his name was a low blow. She turned her attention to the keys and ignored Sherry.

Shielle? Sherry tapped Shielle’s shoulder. Are you listening?

Shielle kept typing, not turning or saying a word.

Fine. I get it. Sherry stood straight. I’ll leave.

Thank you.

I say these things because I care. Sherry walked to the door.

Hm-mm.

It’s true—whether you believe it or not.

Hello, my love! Marcos barged into the room. I—oh . . . hey, Sherry.

Oh, my goodness. Shielle held her face in her hands. If she hadn’t heard it from her sister before, she was going to hear it now.

Shielle is busy, Mr. Senaire. Shielle knew from her voice Sherry was glaring at him.

I have something I need her to sign, Marcos said, and Shielle heard papers rustling.

She’s busy, I said.

It’s okay. Shielle dropped her hands from her face. Let him in.

So he gets to stay while you work, but your own sister doesn’t? Sherry put her hand on her hips.

He’s helping me with some research, Sherry. Shielle rolled a pencil on the computer consol.

Is that what they call it now? Sherry stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

I don’t get her. Shielle threw up her hands. When we were young, she and Cyren used to tease me and say I was adopted. Now they won’t leave me alone. So over-protective.

Especially when it comes to me. Marcos watched the door over his shoulder as he approached Shielle. She hates me, doesn’t she?

"You did plot to assassinate her children."

How many times do I have to say it? Marcos threw up his hands. It wasn’t me plotting. I was there to put a stop to it.

I know; I know. Shielle snickered at Marcos’s indignant face. He was lighter in complexion than either she or Sherry, but his skin had a coppery hue. His dark hair was gelled back, and his short beard didn’t seem to want to grow past his jaw line. Around his neck, he wore a single silver chain. Butterflies always ticked her stomach whenever Shielle saw him.

Sherry was right about one thing, though, Marcos. I am busy. Shielle flipped the notebook open again. Have you found anything about the planet gems?

I am on a lead. Marcos held some papers in front of her. I need you to sign these.

What is this?

Subpoenas. I’m being blocked by a company’s privacy policy, but if you sign this they’ll have to give me the information I want.

I was thinking, Marcos, Shielle said as she read the papers, why don’t we contact the Sentinel of the Northern Kingdom? As the keeper of the planet gems, shouldn’t he know or can find out about all this?

It’ll be too hard to get in touch with him. Marcos scratched his beard while examining something over Shielle’s head.

He’ll talk to me. I’m the Scribe, after all.

I’ll handle it, Shielle. Marcos leaned toward the screen, his chain dangling in front of Shielle’s face. What are you working on? This has nothing to do with Guardian anatomy and planet gems, does it?

Shielle gave him a look but allowed him to change the subject. I ran into an interesting tangent during my investigation. Because it jumped its orbit during Junen’s attack, Jants is not in its proper place. So I started to think, what sort of effect would having a planet out of its orbit have on the rest of the system? While I was running simulations on it, I found this. She typed in the code and hit the button.

A model of all the planets in the solar system, as well as their moons, appeared on the screen, each in their current orbits.

Marcos tapped the screen. Rindt looks kind of wobbly in its rotation, doesn’t it?

That’s not all. Shielle tapped a key. Watch what happens when the simulation moves toward the day of the solar eclipse.

As the planets moved around the sun, a number display counted down the months, days, hours, and minutes to the day of the eclipse. When the counter ran down to zero, all the planets except for four middle planets—Geon, Arion, Rindt, and Jants—were assembled in a straight line.

Marcos examined the screen. What am I looking at?

Don’t you think it’s odd they’re all lined up like this? Shielle pointed to the screen. All of them are in a straight line except for the four planets affected by Jants’s movement. I think they’re supposed to align, but no matter how I look for information on the subject, I can’t find anything.

Maybe it’s not important. Marcos tapped the subpoenas.

Shielle signed them. Or maybe it’s something the previous Scribe would know.

So why don’t you ask him? Marcos picked up the papers.

He’s dead. Shielle blew her hair out of her face. He died before Saguchi discovered I was to be the next Scribe. It’s why I don’t know all the things I’m supposed to.

How did he die?

Shielle closed her eyes to think. I think he suffocated.

Don’t you find it odd?

That he suffocated?

That he’s dead. Marcos leaned on the console. The previous Sun Prince, the previous Moon Prince, the previous Scribe—all of them are dead—gone before they could teach their successors about the jobs their supposed to do.

Shielle stifled a snicker. When did you turn into a conspiracy theorist, Marcos?

It’s as much of a possibility as your planets aligning theory.

Shielle examined her notebooks. "The circumstances of their deaths are vastly different, Marcos. If there was something connecting them, don’t you think I would have noticed?"

You are the Scribe, after all. Marcos drew a breath. I should go before your sister kills me. He leaned forward to kiss her.

I’m sorry, Marcos. Shielle leaned away from him to get a book from the shelf. I’m swamped with work.

Marcos paused, his lips in a pucker. Okay, then. He stood straight. If you can’t find anything on the planets aligning in the astronomical texts, you might want to try fairy tales or myths or the like. Should this sort of thing have happened before, the ancients would have written stories to try and explain it, don’t you think?

You are some sort of genius, Marcos. Shielle smiled at him over her shoulder.

It’s what I’m here for. He winked at her as he left.

Shielle let her smile drift off her face as the door closed behind him. She hadn’t meant to be so obvious about not kissing him. But ever since she had discovered he had been involved in Junen’s actions this past spring, she couldn’t bring herself to trust him again—even if he had been instrumental in saving all of their lives, and even if seeing him set her heart pounding. Grasping the front of her hair, she groaned. All her emotions had jumbled up in a tight knot, and no matter what she did she couldn’t sort them. So instead she turned back to the computer. It was easier to spend time on her research than to think about something that hurt so much.

CHAPTER 6

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One peculiarity Alandri admired about Geon’s moon was that one side was forever facing Geon and the other side always facing away. No matter what time of the night or day or where on the planet the inhabitants of Geon looked, they saw one side of the moon. They had no idea the other side held a secret—a building made of white stone which towered over the lunar landscape—the Guardian’s Court.

Alandri gazed at the court from atop one of the moon’s grass covered hills. Unlike Melíne and its pink and purple and yellow landscape, the moon’s vegetation was white and gray with tinges of color. The gray flowers had undertones of red and yellow and blue, and the gray trees and grass had undertones of green. It gave the lunar plain a sort of sad, depressing look in Alandri’s opinion. A little color would do wonders. But what else could she expect from someone as bland and one-tone as Lumina?

With a smirk, she made her way to the Guardian’s Court. It was a historic, though somber occasion. Before now, the court had been used to put one of the lesser Guardians on trial—an asteroid who negligently struck another planet or the like. Never before had one of the Planetary Guardians been put on trial.

I hate the moon. A wave of dizziness struck Alandri as she walked. The moon’s beams were getting to her. She would have teleported straight into the court, but the moon’s light threw off her portals.

She touched the pink stone hanging around her neck—Alandri’s Light as the humans had dubbed this planet gem. This jewel contained a copy of all Melíne’s powers. It should keep her from collapsing on this accursed rock.

"Even so, there’s no reason to expose myself