Shandra's Song

By K.L. Stubbs

It is three hundred years in the future. Technology has progressed so far that every facet of life is dependent on it. Even menial tasks like acquiring food is only a button press away. Life is perfect. Until one day everything just stops.

In the aftermath of a worldwide terrorist attack wiping out every form of technology, Joseth, Jazriel, and Shazra find themselves separately fighting for their lives in a world plunged back into the dark ages. What had once been a peaceful, easy existence has become a waking nightmare. More than half of the world's population is wiped out in the first six months. Any survivors are immediately taken under the control of the sadistic warlord, Jerrick, the cause of all the chaos. No one is safe.

Alashandra is a normal girl living a normal life except she's got wings and astounding mental abilities and lives on a planet called Hyethria. Her life is turned upside down as she gets premonitions and dreams about a people far away and suffering, almost as if she is channeling one of them. As the pleas for help grow stronger, she says goodbye to her life and her planet and mind-travels to Earth. And then simply put, all hell breaks loose.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Feb 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9781662473197

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Shandra's Song

K.L. Stubbs

Copyright © 2023 K.L. Stubbs

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2023

ISBN 978-1-6624-7318-0 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-7319-7 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Part I

The Capture

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Part II

The Escape

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Epilogue

About the Author

Part I

The Capture

Chapter 1

Silence. Complete and utter silence soared throughout the city, throughout the entire world, encompassing any and all in its path, leaving nothing behind but a terrifying emptiness. For the first time in three hundred years, the humming resonance of technological devices could not be heard. It was the day that would burn eternally in the minds of those that survived it. It was the day the world stopped.

And then the panic began.

London, England

Shazra!

Shazra heard the plaintive scream and whipped around. Kimmy! Shazra yelled, trying to fight her way to where her little sister had fallen and was now being trampled by the panic-ridden crowd around them. Shazra launched herself past the final curtain of people that separated her from her sister and yanked her up. "Kimmy, stay close to me! These people will trample you, they will! We gots to find the others."

What's 'appenin'? Kimmy cried, never having been more frightened in her life. Nothing had ever disrupted their perfect world to this magnitude before.

I dunno, luv, Shazra told her, grunting as she picked her up, grunting again as someone ran into her. We gots to make it to the slide. That's where the other's'd go.

Kimmy began crying. Shazra was numb. Nothing made sense. One minute they had been enjoying the afternoon in the market square atop Big Ben, and the next minute everything had just stopped. She ran, ignoring the pain in her side, the people screaming around her, everything turning into one terrifying blur. The only thing she could do right now was run.

Washington, DC

The president of the United States threw his useless transporter device against the wall angrily as dozens of Secret Service men and women gathered around him. You said it wasn't going to happen until next month! he hissed at his secretary of defense as they were both bustled toward an exit.

The secretary of defense, Bradshaw, grimaced. That was the intel we had, sir. We've been scouring the country for the device. Obviously, we were too late.

We're the most powerful country in the world! the president growled. How could we have not stopped this?

Even with the panic and bustle, Bradshaw sighed as if he were dealing with an obstinate toddler, whom he had told the same thing to over and over. Sir, we only found out about the device's existence in the first place by pure chance. There was no way we could have found it in time even if we had until next month, like we thought. Not with the network that Bronwill's got set up.

The president ground his teeth. A network that's very shortly going to take over.

Not if we can help it, sir. As long as we can get to the underground in Salt Lake, we still have a fighting chance.

Get to it how? the president spat. The teleporters are all dead, as well as every other vehicle known to man. It'll take us months! Besides that, we can't even communicate with them.

Father!

The president whipped his head around and surveyed the young man of around seventeen years of age struggling to get to him. With anger and annoyance, he turned to Bradshaw. What is the boy still doing here? I thought I told you to get him out days ago? Do you have any idea of the repercussions if Bronwill finds out what that brat accidentally overheard?

We did, sir, Bradshaw replied, bewildered.

Father, they're going to kill you! the brat in question, Joseth, exclaimed. You have to get out of here!

What are you blathering about? the president huffed, still getting pushed toward the next exit. "We are getting out of here. What does it look like we're doing?"

You don't understand, Joseth insisted, knowing that there was no love lost between the two of them, but even so, not really wanting to see the man who helped bring him into the world be killed. The men you sent me away with are dead. I barely got away. They're gonna kill you too!

Just as Joseth got his last word out, there was a commotion behind them and then screaming. Joseth could see men with what he assumed to be swords, as he'd only ever heard tale of such a weapon in storybooks and maybe a museum or two, converging on their rear. He'd been too late.

The president grunted suddenly and stopped. Joseth didn't even bother to wipe away the blood that had spattered across his face as he stared wide-eyed at the sword protruding from his father's stomach. The sword had been thrown from behind, expertly hitting its mark. Make sure the boy gets outta here, the president rasped, falling to the ground, blood speckling his mouth. He knows too much.

Bradshaw nodded and immediately took hold of Joseth, fading into the pandemonium, knowing if he was going to get the kid and himself to relative safety, it was now or never.

Somewhere along the Oregon Coast

Three women stood in a small wooden boat, watching the chaos along the shoreline. All three had the aura of youth about them, each looking quite a bit younger than they actually were. The youngest of the three, Jazriel, huffed angrily and folded her arms, her aquamarine eyes flashing.

We should have stayed and fought, Mama.

Pick your fights, young one, her grandmother, Lavender, chided softly. You have to learn that sometimes it's better to run away so that you can live to fight another day.

Wisely put, Ender, Jazriel's mother, Persephone, said, agreeing with her mother, nodding. Jazzy, I would have loved to have stayed and fought as much as the next person, but you have to see the bigger picture. We're not ready for that fight yet. We have to make it to Utah, to the underground. That's the only place where our special skills will matter, the only place that can amplify them enough to be of any use on the grand scale of things.

Jazriel sighed, trying to push further over the side of the boat to see better. I know. It just don't sit right. We've known about the old ways our whole lives, and now that that information and knowledge would actually be useful, we're sitting on our hands out here in a splintery old boat.

We will soon, my dear, Ender assured her.

Jazriel sighed again, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. No matter what she did to discount it, she had the horrible feeling that everything she knew and loved was going to be taken from her shortly. And her feelings were always right.

The village of Lianolia, capital of Lethre, the westernmost province of the continent of Quintarlia on the planet Hyethria, six galaxies to the left of the Milky Way

Alashandra, gasping, stopped suddenly in midair, her pointed, starlike silver wings fluttering back and forth hurriedly, keeping her stationary yet airborne. Her twin brother, Alish, who was slightly ahead of her, felt the sudden anxiety whirling around inside his sister and did a somersault, doubling back and placing a hand on Alashandra's shoulder.

Alashandra, what's wrong? What's happening?

Alashandra stared straight ahead, as if she were unaware of her current surroundings. Alish calmly closed his eyes. If he couldn't reach her with his voice, he could always reach her with his mind. Concentrating, he threw out his mind to hers, Alashandra, what's wrong? What's that you're emanating?

Alashandra felt her brother's gentle voice in her head and was immediately comforted. She took a deep breath and swallowed, mentally and physically forcing her pounding hearts to slow, her heavy breathing to lesson. Within moments, she was calm again. I'm sorry, she told her brother, whose worry she could feel spilling off him, though, as a true Lethren, obviously wasn't showing it. I just had a bad feeling.

What kind of bad feeling? Alish asked cautiously, sweeping their surroundings with a careful eye.

Alashandra swallowed hard, honestly having no idea what had just happened. One moment she was flying along enjoying her time with Alish, and the next, a horrible feeling that was somewhat familiar as to its origins yet completely foreign hit her like a falling tree. She cleared her throat. I don't know. Alashandra started forward again, then stopped, clamping a hand on Alish's arm her eyes wide. "Alish, I don't think the feeling was mine. Are you okay?"

What do you mean? Alish asked, staring at his sister quizzically. I'm fine. It had to have been yours. It definitely wasn't mine, and I'm the only one whose feelings that you channel, well, the only one whose channeled feelings could stop you like that anyway.

Alashandra let herself glide gently to a nearby tree, positioning herself on a branch, her breathing increasing. "Well, if it wasn't mine, and it wasn't yours, then whose was it?"

"You're sure it wasn't yours?" Alish asked, always one for certainty.

Aye, I'm sure. Alashandra looked him directly in the eye. I felt like I was watching my people rip themselves apart, knowing that I could have done something but didn't, and then came the worst of it. I had the overwhelming feeling that due to whatever was happening, I was shortly going to lose everyone I loved. That feeling doesn't fit my situation. It's one hundred percent not mine.

What are we going to do about it? Alish was the calculating one, the planning one, always wanting to be one step ahead of a problem.

Alashandra wished she could give him an answer, but the only real thing she could do was shrug. The feeling of helplessness crept upon her. It was something she was not accustomed to, nor did she enjoy it. "I don't know. I don't think there's anything we can do. Not right now anyway. We'll just have to wait until whoever I'm channeling sends another message. Hopefully it won't be too late."

Alish nodded and sighed. Sometimes he wished that he and his sister didn't have the special talents they had. No one knew where the twins had actually come from. They had been found by a hunting party as tiny babies hanging from a basket on the highest branch of the tallest tree in the forest. Everyone knew they were different, though hardly anyone knew how different. They could hear others' thoughts, could make things move with just their mind, and could communicate with each other mind to mind. Their adoptive parents, Kaiya and Rethe, who had taken them in to soothe the loss of their own young daughter; and their beloved Aiethllahaal, or school, teacher, Lasai Thethrael, had taught them that with these special talents came immense accountability. And so Alish knew that they had to do all they could to find and help the people that Alashandra was channeling or having special abilities meant nothing.

Chapter 2

New York City

Jerrick Bronwill stood atop his now-darkened penthouse, reveling in the screams and chaos happening all around him. He turned to his big, stoic companion with an evil grin on his face. Can you hear that, Bryon? That is the sound of the beginning of our empire.

"Our empire? Bryon inquired in return, raising an eyebrow. I think you mean your empire. I'm just the hired muscle, remember?"

Jerrick couldn't help but laugh at his naturally reclusive, trusted second-in-command. He had known Bryon for over five years now, and the fact that he still instinctively shied away from belonging anywhere amused him. Don't you feel accomplished though? Jerrick pushed, wanting to get some sort of reaction out of his fairly emotionless companion. We've managed to pull off something that no one else ever even dreamed of before. We killed technology. We've sent the world spiraling back down into what I believe they referred to as the dark ages in one night! We've made history! Aren't you at least a tiny bit proud to be a part of all this?

I don't know about that, Bryon said carefully, looking out over the panicking city. What I do know, though, is that I saw this coming. There's going to be a fight. I don't care whose side I'm on as long as it's the winning side. Simple as that. And it seems you'll come out the victor, so here I am.

"Again with the war talk, Jerrick sighed in exasperation. How many times do I have to tell you that there isn't going to be a war? That the only side, as you put it, will be mine? Thanks to the combination of our ingenious strategic minds, we've made sure of that. No one on this rock knows how to feed or even hydrate themselves without pushing a button. We do. No one has a clue as to what to do. We do. No one knows how to defend themselves without technology. We do. The masses will come flocking to us, begging me to lead them, since as we speak all the other world leaders are being assassinated one by one, which was a very good idea by the way. It's as simple as that."

Bryon nodded at the compliment, though he wasn't particularly proud of that idea. He was an instinctively strategic thinker, and the only plan that involved as little resistance as possible from everyone on the planet also involved killing every single world leader at the beginning of the chaos, leaving the extremely panicked population with no one besides Jerrick to lead them—easy pickings. It was the only logical plan that would work for an occupation of this scale. However, he didn't really fancy himself a murderer, and he still wasn't sold on the fact that they were going to take the world without a fight. Bryon knew deep down inside that it wasn't going to be as easy as Jerrick said it would be.

But what if the plan doesn't go according to plan? Jerrick asked Bryon, staring at him pointedly, as if reading his mind. "Well then, we implement plan B. You're the one that annoyed me into having a plan B to begin with, so stop your worrying. If it comes to a fight, which it won't, but if it does, then we'll be ready. Like I said before, we're the only ones that have the skill and know-how to fight without technology. We'll easily win."

If it comes to a fight, Bryon told Jerrick, his bright hazel eyes boring into Jerrick's black ones, "I will come out on the winning side, whichever side that may be."

Oh, it'll be mine, Jerrick said coldly, less amused now and more annoyed with Bryon's loyalty issues.

That's all I needed to know. Bryon nodded, letting it lie.

Jerrick was about to say more on the matter when he heard a petrified cry that made his blood run cold.

Jerrick!

Jerrick's head snapped toward the sound of the terrified scream about one hundred yards to his right on another large, round balcony.

Where's Sunny?!

Last time I saw her, she was inside! Bryon exclaimed, just as worried about her as Jerrick was, knowing that if something happened to his comrade's fiancé there would be worse than hell to pay. In fact, she was the only good thing about Jerrick.

That didn't sound like it came from inside! Jerrick snarled, his worry coming out as rage, ripping the door open and tearing down the stairs that led him to his four-story penthouse, then when she was nowhere in sight, he said, I thought I told you to tell her to stay in tonight!

I did, Bryon growled back, following quickly behind him.

Then where is she? Jerrick stormed for the door

Jerrick.

Bryon stood cemented to the floor, a note in his large hand. Jerrick whirled around and snatched the note out of Bryon's hand and quickly read it, his face going pale.

She's at the Hub, Jerrick nearly whispered, swallowing hard, having his suspicions confirmed. The Hub was a gathering place with vendors and shops that Sunny loved to frequent.

But the Hub's where the worst of it's gonna be! Bryon's words hissed through gritted teeth, his face grim.

I know that! Jerrick spat, throwing the door open and stomping out, Bryon hard on his tail, both of them forcibly shoving people out of their path as they made their way to the sky bridge that would take them across the smoggy smoke of the Bottoms hundreds of feet below them and to where the Hub was located. Though Jerrick could see and hear the goings on of the Hub from his balcony, to actually get there took him through his building, which was built like a giant E, and over the bridge, costing him precious time.

Just as Bryon had predicted, the Hub was utter chaos. The looting had begun, and there were terrified people everywhere. Terror transformed normally calm, nonviolent people into animals, animals that reverted back to relying on pure instinct.

Get off of me!

Jerrick's head snapped to the left as he heard Sunny's plaintive scream. All he could see of his fiancé was her struggling feet and the hand with the bracelet that he'd made her trying to beat off her three attackers, all of which who were on top of her, trying to pin her down, ripping at her clothes. Jerrick and Bryon saw red. Like a two-man wrecking machine, Bryon and Jerrick plowed their way through the mass of crazed people, not caring who got in their way, all of which were getting tossed aside as if they weighed nothing.

Sunny! Jerrick yelled, wanting her to know that he was there, that he was going to save her.

Jerrick! Sunny screamed, sobbing as she tried to keep the men from ripping off any more of her clothing. Death came for the three men as Jerrick plowed into them, snapping the first one's neck effortlessly, slitting the second one's throat with a short dagger, and playing with the third, the one who had been the ring leader, the one that had been on top of her. Seeing what was about to happen, Bryon whipped Sunny into his arms, pushing her face into his shoulder.

Jerrick twirled his dagger in his hand, slowly circling his prey. He could smell the fear emanating from the other man. Good. The man looked nervously behind him, searching for an exit, but chaos was everywhere. He was trapped.

Jerrick's voice was deathly low. You looked at her. So, you no longer need your eyes.

The man screamed as Jerrick quickly sliced both his eyes. Jerrick caught the man's hand, taking out a larger knife.

You touched her. So you no longer need your hands.

With swift, precise cuts, Jerrick sliced off the man's hands. The man screamed again and fell backward, slamming down on his back.

Jerrick squatted down and whispered in the man's ear, You were trying to rape her. So you no longer need your manhood.

A quick downward thrust of the dagger and twist to the man's privates and Jerrick was finally finished. The man had passed out; whether from pain, fear, or blood loss wasn't known. Jerrick stood up, his darker-than-night eyes lightening some as he rushed to where Bryon had carried Sunny and took her from him, stroking her hair and moving through the panicked crowd.

It's okay, baby. I got you now. You're safe. Jerrick crooned the words softly into her ear, his voice as gentle as Bryon had ever heard it.

I-I thought they were going to…, Sunny started, then buried her head into his chest and sobbed. Jerrick held her close, closing his eyes and entering her mind, calming it.

You're safe now. No one's gonna touch you again.

Sunny's body relaxed somewhat, though she still held tightly to Jerrick. Bryon was out in front of them, clearing a path through the chaos, shoving people bodily out of the way, breathing a silent sigh of relief that they'd gotten there in time. Whatever his differences with Jerrick, Sunny had begun to feel like a sister to Bryon, and he would do anything to keep her safe.

What's happening, Jer-bear? Sunny asked bluntly, swallowing back the last of her terrified tears as they entered the penthouse, Jerrick sitting down on the couch, still holding her. Why doesn't anything work anymore?

I don't know, Jerrick lied, holding her close to him, his mind still in hers, sending calming waves through it, erasing the panic and fear and the images of her attackers. But I told you something like this could happen, remember? Still think I'm crazy?

I'll always think you're crazy, Sunny quipped, regaining a hold of herself now, surprised at how calm she now felt, as if she no longer felt the trauma, though not willing to let go of Jerrick. But that's why I love you. Insanity enjoys company, ya know?

Jerrick laughed, giving Sunny a squeeze and kissing the top of her head. He'd never adored anything or anyone this much in his entire life. He felt very much that he would do anything for this woman, the woman that had somehow penetrated his heart when no one else could, not even his own mother, whom he had killed when she tried to stop him from becoming who he was, who he was meant to be.

That's why we're so great together, Jerrick agreed, then set her to the side of him and turned her toward him, his face serious. Sunny, this new world we find ourselves in is a dangerous place.

Thank you, Captain Obvious, Sunny sighed sarcastically, rolling her eyes and pointing to her torn clothing, reverting to humor as she was prone to doing when things got too scary or stressful. It had always been her defense mechanism.

Sunny, I'm serious, Jerrick said softly, then grinned slightly. "And you know I prefer the term General."

Sorry, General. Sunny laughed, throwing a mock salute, then sobering. I know everything's going to be different now, and I know I should be freaking out right about now, wondering where our next meal is coming from. But I'm not. You know why?

Jerrick stilled. She couldn't know why, could she? That he had been inside her head? Why? he finally asked, smiling down at her, putting his arms around her, and pulling her close.

Because you will take care of me, Sunny told him, her voice full of love, Jerrick breathing an inward sigh of relief. Just like you always have. You and Bryon won't let anything bad happen.

Not to you, Bryon, who had taken a seat some distance off after bolting the door down tight, assured her fervently.

And since you guys and your little club know so much about the old ways, I'm sure you'll figure out someway to help everyone adjust, Sunny said optimistically, nodding, as if her saying it made it so.

Bryon shook his head. She was so trusting, so naive. She had no idea that it was her beloved fiancé that had caused all the chaos to begin with. But then again, even if she did, Bryon was sure that she would find it in her enormous heart to forgive him, forgive them both, and then find some silver lining that would brighten everyone's day. That's just who she was. She was sunny, indescribably optimistic, and never without a smile. Each of these things had been a factor in earning her the nickname Sunshine or Sunny for short. Jerrick refused to call her anything else, nothing but what she was.

Of course, Jerrick assured her. But now you're gonna need to join that club. Sunny, I think it'd be a good idea for you to learn how to fight.

So do I, Bryon added in his two cents. We've been studying and practicing the old ways of fighting for years. We can teach you easily.

Sunny stared at him, surprised etched on her features. Fight? she repeated, narrowing her eyes. Like with fists and whatnot? Like barbarians?

Jerrick snorted and folded his arms. Well, we can't settle our disputes by pressing a bunch of buttons on a screen to try and make the other person's chip zap them first anymore, can we?

When Sunny gave him a hard look, he softened his voice.

Baby, I don't want you to be defenseless. Though I hate to admit it, and if you tell a single soul there will be absurdly hasty consequences, I was terrified tonight. I was scared that I was going to lose you. I never want to have that feeling again.

You won't, Sunny told him, then when his gaze didn't fall, she sighed. Okay, okay, you two can teach me how to fight. But not tonight.

Of course not, Bryon almost snorted, not with what you've been through.

Speaking of what I went through, I need to go get out of these ruined clothes. Sunny looked down at her torn outfit in disgust, then glanced sidewise at Jerrick, smiling seductively. You wanna help?

Jerrick jumped up immediately and swept her up into his arms, intent on the bedroom. Do I ever!

"Really?" Bryon asked dryly, raising an eyebrow at them.

What? Jerrick and Sunny asked together, both eyeing him innocently.

Don't you two what me, Bryon huffed. I know what's going on in your dirty little minds. The city is ripping itself apart, and you two are just gonna waltz off and have sex?

That seems to be the gist of it, Jerrick affirmed, grinning devilishly.

Besides, Sunny called to Bryon as Jerrick toted her to their room, if it's the end of the world as we know it, we may as well send it off with a bang, right?

I think I just threw up a little in my mouth, Bryon groaned distastefully, making a face, then called after them, Just keep it down, okay? Ear pods to shut out the sound don't work anymore, remember?

No promises, Sunny called back, giggling as Jerrick began kissing her neck, backing into the door that led to their room.

"I hate my life!" Bryon moaned loudly, getting up and going to the stairs that led to his floor of the penthouse.

Jerrick laughed, allowing himself a moment to wonder how Sunny did it. She was the only one that could get Bryon to joke, the only one that even dared to joke with him. Bryon was a dangerous man and did not suffer fools. It also occurred to Jerrick that Bryon was the closest thing to a best friend that Jerrick had ever had, and yet he knew startlingly little about the big stoic Gypsy or Romany, as Bryon preferred to be referred to. Sunny, however, seemed to be able to get him to open up, to let down that impenetrable wall he had erected around himself. But then again, that was just Sunny. She could get anyone to open up without even trying. She could make the sun fall out of the sky had she the notion to do so, and the sun would come down happily, if only to be just a tiny bit closer to her.

Jerrick sighed in contentment as Sunny ran her hands up his bare back, beneath his shirt. His moment of pondering was over. Jerrick dropped down backward on the bed, Sunny on top of him, kissing him passionately. Sunny could tell that Jerrick hadn't told her the full truth, but she couldn't worry about that right now. She knew that there was a dark side to her fiancé, a dark side she didn't or couldn't understand, but she loved him. And love would be enough. Or so she hoped.

Lethre

Alish and Alashandra crept silently through the underbrush followed by the rest of their group of aiethllas, the village young ones. Quintarlians are considered aiethllas, children, until they reach their coming of age, at eighty years old, wherein they become full-fledged members of the village. The aiethllas attended Aiethllahaal, the village school, until this time as well, learning everything that would help them survive in the dangerous, creature-filled continent they lived on.

At the moment, the aiethllas were engaged in a learning game called find the slinak. The game was very simple. One team hid, pretending to be the dangerous slinak—wraithlike black beasts with long, lithe bodies that waited to ambush unsuspecting prey—while the other team acted as the guard patrol, knowing that there was a threat to their village, therefore bravely going out to eradicate the threat.

Alish motioned for them to halt, listening intently. The wind was rustling gently, but his keen ears picked up rustling that wasn't the wind, and his sharp eyes caught a glint of light. He turned to Alashandra, smiling triumphantly. She smiled back; she knew that look. Nodding, Alashandra took half of their force and silently flew around the spot where Alish had pointed, while Alish and the other half blundered noisily through the undergrowth toward the place where their opponents waited in ambush.

Kethrelle, the leader of the slinaks, smiled as he readied himself and his comrades to spring the trap on their unsuspecting friends. His smile faded suddenly as he felt a wooden dirk at his throat.

Threat abated!

Kethrelle groaned. He knew that voice. He turned his head around and looked up into the triumphant face of Alashandra, then looked at his comrades. They, too, had wooden daggers or dirks at their throats. Alish and his group entered the clearing, all smiling smugly.

Gritting his teeth, Kethrelle laid his weapons on the ground and spat out the dreaded losing words, Surrender.

Alashandra laughed and released her hold, slapping hands with Alish. We won again, Kethrelle, she said, holding out her hand to help him up. Are you ready to give up yet?

As long as I have a chance to be against you? Kethrelle spat at her, slapping her hand away. Never!

There was a near audible gasp from the other aiethllas. Lethrens practiced extreme control and were absolute pacifists when it came to harming one another. The fact that Kethrelle had actually hit her hand away was alarming.

Alashandra was about to retaliate, not being shocked at all by his behavior, but thought better of it and started to walk away. It was normal that he would be sore about losing. She and Kethrelle had been rivals since they first met. They competed at everything from who learned to fly first to who could eat fastest, with Alashandra usually winning.

Walk away, then, Shandy Shandy Shandy Shandra, Kethrelle sneered, picking up his sword. Alashandra whipped around, as did Alish. More audible gasps could be heard from their classmates.

What did you call me? Alashandra was seething inside. In Quintarlian society, to change one's name without their approval was one of the worst offenses they had. Names were powerful and important, not to be taken lightly.

You heard me, Shandy Shandy Shandy Shandra.

The other aiethllas had gotten very quiet.

That's enough, Alish said, his voice as near a growl as he would let it, glaring at Kethrelle and then beckoning to Alashandra. Come on, let's go. Lasai Thethrael will be wondering where we are.

Who asked you to butt in, Alish? Kethrelle hissed at him and then to Alashandra. Does your brother always have to come to your rescue?

Alashandra just smiled sweetly at him. Not always, but it's nice to know that he's always there for me. You're just jealous that people actually care about me. Of course, you wouldn't know how that feels.

Kethrelle stood silently for a moment until the meaning of the jibe fully sank in. Shaking with anger, an anger he could not control, which frightened him, he lunged at her, wooden sword swinging. Alashandra parried the oncoming assault with surprising ease, making Kethrelle trip and go face-first into the dirt. He was up almost before he touched the ground, lunging toward Alashandra, but Alish stepped in his way.

Alashandra's hearts were pounding again and not because of exertion. She'd felt a shadow of the same feeling she'd had weeks ago and felt like this fighting was normal. And that's what startled her. Fighting was so highly looked down on upon in their culture that even the word fight was the equivalent of a swear word. Lethrens believed in extreme control over their emotions; to lose control of your emotions was the worst humiliation a Lethren could endure. They showed emotion but not overly so, unlike the peoples of the other continents of the planet and even others of their own continent.

Get out of my way, Alish! Kethrelle seethed, feeling for some unknown reason the urge to fight, an urge he normally didn't have, kneeing Alish in the stomach.

Hey! Alashandra exclaimed, running forward and throwing herself on Kethrelle. The force of it threw them both to the ground, where they rolled around interlocked, both trying to do as much damage to the other as they could. Alish was on the ground as well, desperately trying to pull them apart. The other aiethllas were staring in silent shock.

Should we do something? an aiethlla whispered to her comrades, never having witnessed a fight.

"I don't think there's anything we can do," another aiethlla was whispering back when Lasai Thethrael, their wizened teacher, flew up and landed a few feet away from the struggling mass of arms, legs, and wings.

Enough!

Instantly all three aiethllas stopped struggling and disentangled themselves from one another. They stood up and faced the Lasai, heads hung down. Kethrelle had a deep gash in his arm from where he had caught it on one of Alashandra's wings, which were abnormally sharp, and Alashandra had a rapidly swelling black eye and a cut just above her eyebrow.

This is unacceptable! Thethrael nearly growled, the closest to losing his temper he'd been in six hundred years. You are to never, ever raise a weapon or your fists against a fellow Lethren! We have a hard enough time staying alive with all the creatures that hunt us without turning against ourselves. Control yourselves! You are nearing eighty years old, you should know better by now. In all my years I have never seen anything this disappointing. Now fly home and get cleaned up. And don't bother coming back until you've figured out how to be a true Lethren. Go, all three of you.

Dejected but straight-faced, the three rose into the air and flew silently to their prospective homes.

Alish, something's wrong with me, Alashandra whispered as they flew, her face ashen.

Don't say that, Alashandra, Alish hushed her gently. It's not your fault. Kethrelle is just an ass. You're fine.

No, I'm not, Alashandra trembled. I don't know what's happening to me. And somehow it's rubbing off on Kethrelle.

Alashandra you're not making any sense, Alish told her, letting her feel his worry for her. What do you mean it's rubbing off on Kethrelle?

How else would we have gotten into a-a fight like that? Alashandra countered, having trouble saying the word. "I mean, I know there's no love lost between us, but neither of us has ever lost control like that before, nor have we ever had the urge to physically harm each other before. We never even say the f-word, let alone think it."

Nothing is wrong with you, Alish tried to assure her, but even he wasn't sure. He could feel something different emanating from his sister, something that wasn't her.

I wish we knew who our birth parents were, Alashandra said suddenly, her head hanging.

What makes you say that? Alish asked, raising an eyebrow. They had never talked about their birth parents before.

Maybe they would know what's happening to me, Alashandra swallowed hard. Sometimes I feel like I'm not even me. I feel like I'm connected to someone or something so far away that I can't do anything about it, but it's still happening. What if it gets so bad that I can't tell the difference between what I'm feeling and what this other thing is telling me to feel?

That won't happen, Alish told her bluntly. You are Alashandra. You are my sister. You have power over your abilities, not the other way around. Whatever is happening, it's happening for a reason. Maybe you'll be able to help whoever you're channeling, and maybe you won't, but you'll never stop being you. Matrea made you the way you are for a reason.

Matrea was their goddess, the Being they believed created the world and gave them their names and personalities.

How'd I ever get lucky enough to end up with a brother like you? Alashandra asked, conjuring a smile.

I dunno, but it's a good thing you were.

Alashandra laughed, despite the humiliating, sober chore they had ahead of them to tell their parents that they had been kicked out of Aiethllahaal for the time being. She knew that no matter what was ahead of them, as long as they stuck together, they could weather anything.

Chapter 3

Somewhere in Colorado

Joseth huddled in the corner of the old shack that Bradshaw had found for them, hungrily licking the plate of slop that they'd been able to forage. They had been walking for a couple of months now, trying to stay out of the most densely populated areas. The initial panic of the desolation was over now. Starvation had set in. Those that had the energy were flocking to New York City, where Jerrick Bronwill was doling out food, if you could call the porridge-like mush food.

Joseth shook his head angrily. If his father had just been a father instead of the unloving jerk he was, Joseth wouldn't be in this position. He wouldn't be dodging Jerrick's men on his way to Utah, of all places. He wouldn't have any idea that there was a resistance or even that anything needed to be resisted. Of course, if things hadn't happened the way they had, he'd probably be one of the poor idiots fighting his way through the crowd to kiss Jerrick's ass and take his food and do whatever he told him to do. People hadn't begun to realize what was happening yet. And when they did, it would be too late.

Bristol, England

The crowd mulled dully around the square, most holding cups or bowls, anything that would hold food. Shazra settled her three younger siblings into a corner, made sure they were secure, then took a couple of bowls and shoved her way into the food line.

After a month of searching for the rest of their family, Shazra, Kimmy, and the two other siblings they were able to find had to move on, going where the food was. After a few weeks of utter chaos, there was rumor of someone from America sending food over. There was food in Bristol, so Bristol was where Shazra went. She hated leaving London before finding the rest of her family, but she had to take care of her younger siblings. Shazra was hoping that her parents and other siblings, if they were even alive, would also follow the food.

When it was Shazra's turn, she stuck out her two bowls, trying not to catch the eyes of the tough, soldierlike men serving the mush. More and more of these men and women could be seen every day, herding the populace, most of which were uncannily cooperative, to different places, doling out food, giving orders. Shazra wasn't really surprised. She knew someone was going to step up and be in charge before long. She heard talk of setting up camps or villages, as the men and women in charge liked to call them.

Shazra ducked her head and pushed her way over to where she'd left her sister and brothers. Sitting down, she gave one bowl to Kimmy and Jenson and then shared the other bowl with York, letting him take most of it. They ate with their fingers, slurping up the slop like it was manna from heaven. Shazra shuddered. It didn't taste right, whatever it was they were eating. It tasted off. But it was food, and she wasn't about to turn it down.

After they were done eating, Shazra hurried her siblings down an alley, looking down at the smoky Downward. Most cities were built in the sky nowadays, the pollution being too bad on the ground. Shazra was just glad the buildings were holding. York sneezed, sniffing pitifully. Shazra shook her head. There was a time when she knew exactly what to give him for his oncoming cold as she had been apprenticing to be a healer. But the injections were given electronically, and the injectors wouldn't work anymore. She knew some of the old healing remedies, more than most actually, but she wouldn't know where to get the supplies. Sighing, Shazra found an abandoned apartment and hustled her siblings inside, thinking that things couldn't possibly get worse. She couldn't have been more wrong.

New York City

Okay, Sunny, this time don't make it so obvious. Surprise me. Jerrick was standing in front of Sunny in a loose fighting stance.

Like this?! Sunny exclaimed, leaping on him and tackling him to the ground, laughing.

That's not quite what I was meaning. Jerrick rolled his eyes, grabbing her wrists and rolling on top of her. But it did surprise me. Not that that move would have done you any good.

Sunny groaned as Jerrick's full weight came down on her. Hey, that's not fair!

I'm not teaching you to fight fair, Jerrick whispered into her ear, clenching her wrists a bit tighter. I'm teaching you to win.

But-but-but! Sunny complained, then sighed. Fine.

Taking careful aim, Sunny spit in his eye, causing him to let go of one of her wrists to wipe at his face. Taking advantage of this, Sunny punched