Gray Guardian: Thousand Eye Universe, #2

By N E Riggs

Mystery, betrayal, and the clash of extraordinary minds—immerse yourself in a universe where revenge is a double-edged sword…

 

In the riveting sequel to book one of the Thousand Eye Universe, the cosmic tapestry unravels further as Light Priest Xixiao emerges on a Neutral world, armed with healing powers that defy his youthful innocence. Bound by a mandate to abstain from their use, Xixiao faces a moral dilemma when confronted with the injured and the dying.

Space Cop Vilstair, ever the enigmatic figure of the Gray, finds herself torn between duty and compassion. Instead of enforcing the rigid boundaries between Light and Gray, she opts to shield Xixiao from the looming threat of arrest. As the fragile alliance between Light and Gray teeters, Vilstair becomes the guardian of a child marked by a destiny that transcends the realms of cosmic balance.

Unseen forces continue to shadow their every move. Someone with a deep-seated animosity toward Vilstair watches from the shadows, poised to unravel the delicate threads of the universe.

In a cosmic ballet where loyalty is tested, destinies entwine, and the Gray's secrets deepen, book two of the Thousand Eyes Universe is a spellbinding sequel that explores the intricate dance between Light and Gray in a universe teetering on the brink of chaos. Embark on an interstellar journey where alliances are forged, destinies collide, and the boundaries between friend and foe blur against the backdrop of an ever-expanding cosmic canvas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: N E Riggs
• Release date: Jan 17, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223601869

Book preview

Gray Guardian

A Science Fiction Cop Saga

N E Riggs

image-placeholder

Brutal Planet Press

Copyright © 2024 by N E Riggs

Original version (Chasing Faith) copyright 2021 by N E Riggs

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

NERiggs.com

Contents

1.Eye

2.1

3.2

4.3

5.4

6.5

7.6

8.7

9.8

10.Eye

11.9

12.10

13.11

14.12

15.13

16.14

17.15

18.Eye

19.16

20.17

21.18

22.Eye

23.19

24.20

25.Eye

26.21

27.22

28.Eye

29.Afterward

30.Book 3 Preview

31.Also By N E Riggs

Eye

Ihate the Gray. I used to think that I hated Yonaven more than anyone else. I still hate Yonaven — I always will. But now I hate Vilstair Bila just as much.

I’ve never met Vilstair. Until a few days ago, I never paid her any attention. That doesn’t matter. I don’t have to meet a person to hate them.

It’s Vilstair’s fault that Madrigan is dead. I don’t care that she didn’t kill him. I don’t care that she got along with him. I don’t care that she tried to save him. She played a part in his death, and that’s all that matters.

I can’t touch any of the others who killed Madrigan. Yonaven is beyond me, Geffin and the Otteran crew tried to help, the police on Thlist are worthless, the Gray strike team played clean up, and Shinead and Butler were just there.

It’s petty and hypocritical, and I don’t care. I blame Vilstair, I hate Vilstair, and I’m going to make her pay for what she did.

Yonaven is almost happy about it. She’s been trying to find ways to motivate me. That might be part of why Yonaven distracted me while Madrigan needed me. She knows that Madrigan is the only person I care about. She knows that I want to avenge him.

I’m playing into her hands. I hate it, I hate her, and I hate that I’m still going along with it. I hate it, and I don’t care. So long as Vilstair suffers, that’s all that matters.

So, sit back and watch. Watch as I make her life even worse than mine.

1

When Xixiao first beheld the wonder of Tarmestil, he wept. The moment the ship dropped out of hyperspace, he pressed both his paws and his nose to the window, straining his eyes. It appeared first as a blue, green, and white orb, dazzling in the surrounding darkness of space. His own world, Lokerfie, had looked much the same when he left it, but Tarmestil was different. Tarmestil was holy, sacred, and Xixiao finally had a chance to visit it.

The ship entered the atmosphere, and flames briefly obscured the view. The flames passed, pitiful things that the gods allowed mortals to overcome. Then Tarmestil spread out below the ship, becoming grander the closer they got. Xixiao saw an ocean to the east, vast and painfully blue. A mountain range soared to the north, snow-capped and twisting. The plains that surrounded the capital burst with greenery.

The capital itself was no less glorious. On lesser worlds — and Lokerfie counted among them — such a vast city would be dark, dreary, and dirty. Not so this city. This wasn’t just the capital of Tarmestil. It was the center of Light, the home of the Prophet, a place where the lords of Light visited regularly. Centuries ago, the gods of Light also came here. Their blessing still covered the city.

It shimmered, a light that went beyond artificial. It came from within, lit by the hearts of the people who lived here. Xixiao had to squint his eyes as he stared at it. Soon tears formed, the light too bright for him. He refused to look away.

The quote came easily. I have given you this city as a holy place. As long as you keep my decrees, it will never fall. Overcome at last, he had to close his eyes. He was still mortal, and this was too much glory for him.

Next to him, Dairuloq continued the quote, I will send you out from here so that you may pass my words and my laws to the rest of the galaxy. When you go, take this light with you.

Xixiao opened his eyes again, eager for more of Tarmestil. He lifted the rosary around his neck, kissing the four beads in turn. Beside him, he saw Dairuloq do the same. The white bead first, for the Creator, the first and greatest of the Light gods. The yellow bead next, for the Purifier, the fire that burned eternally and kept the Light pure. The pink bead next, for Bliss, because there was always joy in the Light. The blue bead last, not because Love was the least of the Light gods, but because Love came equally to all beings in the galaxy, even to the Gray and the Neutral and the Dark. To come last and to all was a wondrous thing and must be savored.

Look. Dairuloq’s finger shook as she leaned closer to the window. There’s the Prophet’s palace.

It rose in the distance, in the center of the capital. All the buildings of the capital were tall and beautiful, but they could not outshine the Prophet’s palace. By law, they could not be taller than it either. It glistened, a star plucked from the heavens and given to the earth. Xixiao wished they were closer, so he could see it better. Alas, the spaceport sat on the outskirts of the capital, almost one hundred miles away.

The ship got closer to the ground, and the Prophet’s palace passed out of view. Though he knew it was still there, knew it was closer than ever, Xixiao’s heart still sunk. He wanted to see it again. Having seen it once in person, a picture would never again be enough.

The liner touched the ground with a faint jostle. As the systems began powering down, Heirav stood. He waved his hands and cleared his throat. Obedient as always, Xixiao gave up looking at Tarmestil so he could focus on his master.

A bus will take us to the Temple of Purification, Heirav said when the cabin grew quiet. They took a small passenger liner from Lokerfie, just large enough for every priest and one piece of luggage each. Make sure you have all your belongings and thank the captain as you exit. He is a good Light path and didn’t charge us as much as I think he should have. Heirav turned a smile in the direction of the cockpit.

The priests loosened their restraints, found their luggage, and attempted to make themselves more presentable. Xixiao licked his paw, then ran his damp hand over his fur. The move wasn’t enough to constrain his always-messy head fur into place, but it was better than nothing. Dairuloq produced a comb from her pocket. After messing with her own hair for a few moments — which Xixiao thought was already perfect — she then turned on Xixiao. He submitted to her ministrations gladly. One needed to look good for Tarmestil, and Dairuloq was more competent in that area than he.

The cockpit door opened, and the captain stepped through. He was an Abernome, the first that Xixiao had ever seen in person, and his hooves rang loud on the metal floor.

Thank you again for transporting us all this way. Heirav reached up for the captain’s hands.

The captain shifted his two back feet so that he could lean down far enough for Heirav to reach. He went lower than he had needed to since Heirav had let go of his cane. I was glad to do so. I have not been to Tarmestil in a long time. The captain smiled, showing a large mouth full of wide, flat teeth. The teeth should have made him look weird, but they didn’t. The captain was too nice for that. Besides, there is always good business to be found here. I’ll make plenty of money.

That is good. The gods of Light provide. Heirav patted the captain’s hands and released him. He made for the door. Since he didn’t have his cane, he nearly fell over.

The captain snatched up the cane and helped Heirav down the ramp. Though Xixiao longed to race forward and be the next one on Tarmestil, he was near the back of the liner. He waited his turn, shifting impatiently only but a few times.

The air smelled of lilac. Xixiao got a whiff of it before he left the ship. As soon as he stood on the ramp, it assaulted him. Back home on Lokerfie, he suffered allergies. Unlike everyone else who loved the temple in the spring, he kept indoors, trying to avoid as many flowers as he could. He pressed his free hand over his mouth as regret filled him. He wasn’t supposed to be miserable on Tarmestil.

A bus waited a few feet from the liner, a robot in the driver’s seat. Oh, Xixiao, Heirav said to him. Can you get the extra luggage?

Of course, master. Xixiao repressed a grimace, left his suitcase with Dairuloq, and headed back aboard the ship. They had brought gifts with them, because one didn’t visit Tarmestil empty-handed. The two suitcases were large and shook about in the air when Xixiao tugged them along. With two of them, Xixiao didn’t have a paw to spare to cover his mouth as he headed down the ramp. It didn’t help that he had short limbs.

A breeze gusted past, the odor of lilac stronger than ever. Xixiao braced himself for a sneeze, but it never came. He sniffed and put the extra luggage in the boot of the bus, along with the rest of the bags. The breeze came again, but he still didn’t sneeze.

He slid into the last seat, on the right side of the bus, next to Dairuloq. I think I’m not allergic to Tarmestil, he said.

She giggled. It is a sacred place.

Not triggering his allergies must be the least of the miracles of the Light. Xixiao didn’t care. His smile stretched so wide that his face hurt, but he didn’t stop. His only regret was that he couldn’t stay forever on Tarmestil.

The captain waved goodbye. If you need a lift in the next few days, let me know! I’ll give you a discount. Then the bus pulled away, heading for the spaceport’s exit.

Once away from the spaceport, the bus lifted further off the ground. Pedestrians and individual crafts passed below it, while larger ships filled the sky above. Xixiao couldn’t decide which way to look, so he tried to look everywhere at the same time. As they joined a lane of traffic, the robot driver started a commentary. It reported what they passed in a droning tone. Xixiao barely noticed the tone, hanging on every word the robot spoke.

It took them two hours to get to the Temple of Purification, far longer than it should have. The traffic meant they had more time to look at things, so Xixiao didn’t care. The bus windows had no covering, so he stuck his head out. He breathed deeply the lilacs, mobs of people, strange foods, and many other things he couldn’t identify. It all overwhelmed him, but he didn’t cough, sneeze, or get watery eyes.

The Temple of Purification sat on the south side of the city, near a river. Xixiao had pictures of when it had been the most magnificent building in the neighborhood. Now other things pressed in and around and over it, but it had maintained its beauty at least.

Most Light temples were built the same. Since Xixiao grew up in a temple, he could look at this one and know where everything was. The walls of this temple glowed bright, albeit not as bright as the Prophet’s palace. Decoration covered everything, depicting various scenes from Light history. Most prominent were images of Lord Kaufel, bracelets, and burning angels. Xixiao had seen it all in pictures, but it was better in person.

Three people waited outside the temple at their approach. The robot took the bus to the back, not the main entrance where visitors and worshipers entered the temple. It was less pretty here. Trees rose behind a wall, and Xixiao stared at a garden in which he might actually be able to spend time. He had always hated the outdoors in spring. He couldn’t wait to learn otherwise.

Two were acolytes, adolescents who scurried to the boot of the bus and began to unload the luggage. The last was a Kritilem priest. They wore a white robe, plain and simple, their only adornment the rosary around their neck. The beads of their rosary glittered in the sunlight and their bald head. Antlers rose up from their head, casting shadows on the bald spot.

Welcome, my friends. The priest spread their arms wide to encompass them all. Heirav struggled for a moment with his cane. One of the local novices abandoned the luggage to help him out. When Heirav reached the ground, the priest took both of Heirav’s hands. I am glad that the Light gods granted you safe and speedy passage here.

I am grateful to that too. Any space travel makes my bones ache. Heirav rubbed his shoulder but laughed.

Come in, come in. We have rooms waiting for you. The priest shooed them inside, smiling at each member of the group. Since the local novices couldn’t handle all the luggage, Xixiao and the others each took their own things.

The temple walls had been constructed of pale stone, something not available on Lokerfie. During the planning for this trip, Xixiao read about the temple. He couldn’t now recall the name of the strange stone. As soon as he could dig out his jewel, he would check. He wished he had his jewel on, so he could have taken pictures of the capital during the bus ride. Heirav said they were here on sacred business, not to act as tourists, and so Xixiao and the others put their jewels in the luggage.

As their guide led them through one identical hallway after another, Xixiao hoped they could soon wear their jewels. If not, he’d spend the first month lost. The layout of this temple might be similar to the one on Lokerfie, but it was far larger.

They took the stairs rather than a lift, and Xixiao was panting by the time they reached the seventh floor. The repulsors on the bottom of his suitcase made it float, but it was still awkward to tug up high, narrow steps. Especially as his legs and arms were short, even for a Chaukee. This part of the temple must have been constructed over a thousand years ago.

We’ll all be in good shape, Dairuloq said. She was barely breathing hard, the traitor.

They had to wait for the priest and Heirav because only those two got to take the lift. That gave Xixiao time to catch his breath, so he didn’t embarrass himself.

Right, the priest said as they stepped out of the lift and tapped their jewel. Master Heirav, you will have this room. As they spoke, the novices opened the door to the nearest room. From how far back he stood, Xixiao couldn’t see much of the inside beyond plain walls and a narrow bed. The doors along the hallways were close together, so he knew the rooms wouldn’t be large. The room he had back home had been tiny, so he didn’t mind.

The novices left the two extra bags in Heirav’s room, then the priest went along, calling one person after another. Xixiao made a note of where Dairuloq’s room was, sighing internally that he wasn’t next to her. More and more of his fellow priests were called, but not him. He didn’t mind taking the last room.

When only three rooms remained but four priests waited, Xixiao realized there was a problem. Three other priests were given those rooms, until only he remained. Am I on the next floor, sir? he asked the local priest.

The priest stared at him for a long moment, tapping their jewel. Oh, they said after a moment. That’s why you don’t have a room.

Xixiao’s stomach sank. He’d been forgotten? This was Tarmestil, the Temple of Purification. Things like that weren’t supposed to happen. I can sleep anywhere. I don’t mind, he said quickly, hoping he didn’t have to share a room with anyone.

No, you don’t have a room because you won’t be staying here.

For a moment, Xixiao could only stare at the priest. If they were joking, Xixiao couldn’t tell. It didn’t sound like a joke. The two novices stood a short distance away, and they started whispering furiously to one another.

Sir, I’m supposed to stay here. That’s why I came with the others. Master Heirav must have listed me.

Master Heirav didn’t forget you. This comes from Lord Kaufel himself. You must leave this temple immediately.

2

Vilstair could only stare at the display. There were no ships anywhere nearby.

Great. From the co-pilot’s seat, Shinead’s voice came out harshly. "I told you he would drop out of hyperspace before he got here!"

These were the coordinates he set before leaving! Vilstair’s hands tightened on the controls.

Though she didn’t turn, she could see Shinead roll her eyes. There’s nothing here! No one would come here! He was obviously planning to drop out of hyperspace before he arrived.

Then what the fuck should we have done! Vilstair whirled on her partner, throwing her hands up. We can’t just let him get away! What should we do other than follow his coordinates, oh all-knowing one?

Shinead glared, her pretty face twisted. You don’t need to take that tone with me. I’m just saying what we both know. What I’ve been saying the whole trip here!

Fuck you!

Go fuck yourself! It’s not like anyone else wants to fuck you! Shinead tossed off her restraints. With a huff, she stomped out of the cockpit, slamming the door shut behind her.

Alone, Vilstair slumped in her seat. She stared again at the display, hoping it might show something new. There was still nothing. As Shinead said, there was nothing of interest near here. They were far from any system, all the stars distant. There were no space stations, no phenomena, nothing. It was deep space, and therefore boring.

She opened a channel to Diresi. Yafan answered after a few seconds, his furry face dominating the display. Other strategists worked in the background. What’s wrong? he asked before she could say anything.

Vilstair rubbed her hands over her face, exhaling loudly. We weren’t able to reach Uranolf before he could get to his ship. Nor were we able to stop his ship before he jumped into hyperspace. We followed the coordinates from his jump, but there’s nothing here. She hit a button, transmitting her sensor readings to Yafan.

Yafan made a throaty noise that passed as a hum for him as he examined his screen. You didn’t pick up any other coordinates before he jumped?

No. She had checked four times during the one-hour trip through hyperspace. The Nebula’s Edge had good sensors for a ship of its size and class, but it couldn’t pick up everything. He probably dropped out partway through his journey.

Uranolf has no priors. Yafan glanced to the side, checking something else. The local authorities on Hittilin are ruling it a crime of passion, not premeditated. He probably realized what he’d done immediately and then panicked. He had just enough of a head start to get away from Hittilin before you could reach him. After he jumped into hyperspace, he must have realized that you’d track his coordinates. He then made a sudden drop and changed his destination. It’s a typical story. Yafan didn’t bother to hide his frustration.

Vilstair had to look away. I’m sorry.

"It’s not your fault.