Lidarion 45

The next morning Trent shared the letters with the others and explained the door knob.

Brooke took it and tried it immediately. They blocked the door as Trent had done the night before and went into the restaurant for breakfast. Trent Harruff and Obla'reth stayed behind. "So last night while I was wandering, I found this room." Trent started. "All the books, I totally understand those. But why do you have a room full of tree trunks?" He asked.

Harruff perked up. "Carved tree trunks?" He asked.

Trent nodded. "How did you guess that?" He asked.

Harruff shook his head. "Not a guess. Mine is back in the port city." He explained.

Trent cocked his head to the side. "Why do you have one?" He asked.

Harruff smiled. "They are how my people tell their stories. We carry them with us almost everywhere. We carve the events of our lives into them, when we die they return to the cliff cities and are hung from the Wall of Songs." Harruff explained.

Obla'reth nodded. "There are very few places I regret never having seen before I became a Librarian. That place is that the top of my list." He offered.

"Why do they call it the wall of songs?" Trent asked.

"They hollow out each log and hang them from the cliff high above the city. The wind blows them into each other, creating a wind chime more than a mile long." Harruff looked like he might cry.

Trent was in awe of his description. "That sounds incredible." He offered.

Harruff nodded. "It really, really does." he agreed.

Trent turned to Obla'reth. "So how come you have a room full of them? He asked.

Obla'reth realized that Harruff was now even more interested in the answer than Trent was. "They are very old. And many of their original owners were not the most honored dead by your races standards of purity." Obla'reth explained.

Harruff nodded. "It has always been a strong belief among my people that the purest and most honorable souls made the best music for the wall." he admitted. "When my people reject my story, may they send it here?" He asked.

Obla'reth nodded.

"Why would they reject your story?" Trent asked as the others came back through the door.

Harruff smiled sadly. "A story for another time perhaps." He dismissed the conversation and walked back to his things as Trent closed the door and dropped the knob back into it's belt pouch.

Melody and Harmony page 18

The others stared at him patiently. And he stared right back at them in total silence.

"Well?" Callopie asked.

Foster shrugged. "It just occurred to me I haven't actually listened to the song in a long time." He admitted.

Vince sat forward "I thought you were a Jolly Rodger?" He complained.

"NO!" Foster exploded. "I'm not! I said I wasn't!" He picked up his bag and board. "This is my dad's old stuff! He wanted me to be one but after three years as a pledge I quit!" He grabbed a chair and sat down hard. "I don't even really like Pirate Rock all that much, the seas dried up hundreds of years ago and anyone living in this city sure as hell isn't beyond the wall solar sailing on the desert sands! So really how 'Piratey' " He air quoted for his own amusement and started pacing. "Can I really be?" He asked rhetorically. "And the pirate queen! Oh my god the pirate queen! You'd think they all knew her personally! 'may she bless you and lead you unto good fortune!'" He stuck his tongue out and made a face. "It's just an old song! So she supposedly loved sailing so much that she left her body to sail the skies for eternity, big whoop! That doesn't sound like ascension to me." He stopped and waved a finger at his audience. "That sounds like death! The big, boring, eternal snooze fest! And there's no proof she created UV absorbent fabric for solar sails so WHO CARES!" He exploded and then sat back in his chair in a huff. "It's just one more dumb religion with made-up symbols -" He pointed at the little girl "No offense, that people use to feel better about their shitty lives! It's all crap." He slumped slightly in the chair. "There is no true pirate bloodline, there is no ancient treasure, and there is definitely no such thing as reincarnation." He pointed to the airlock door. "Because who really wants to get thrown back out into that, shit, over and over, and over again?" He sighed heavily having run out of steam. "It's all just garbage, and I am sick of it." He finished.

There was silence in the room. Vince mindlessly fidgeted with the frilly edge of Callopie's skirt and she slapped his hand.

Aaron got up from the bean bag chair. "Man, if there was ever a poster child for needing to get high, you would be it. And while we share more than a few opinions on the weight of literal truth in our histories, someone believes in the fantasy world you've grown to hate, enough to tattoo that symbol onto this little girl." He pointed at Mary.

"It's not a tattoo." Mary interrupted. Everyone else turned to look at her

"Of course it is." Vince denied.

Mary shook her head. "It's a birthmark. She pulled a small wallet out of her pants pocket and pulled a tiny worn picture of out the wallet. She handed it to Aaron. "That's my mom holding me about two minutes after I was born."

Aaron nodded. "And there it is, on your arm." He confirmed. Mary nodded.

Foster got up and snatched the picture from Aaron's hand. "That's bull, prolly just a photoshop job to sucker you into taking her where they're waiting to pull the drugs out -" He looked at the picture finally. "This is an Instapic." Mary nodded. He stared deeply at the photo. Then back at her arm where the birthmark was peeking out from under her shirt sleeve. "Do you know who you are?" He asked in disbelief.

Mary shook her head. "Not really, I was found just outside the city walls before my first birthday. Other than that photo, the only life I've ever know is the orphanages I've been moved between." She offered.

Foster handed the photo back to her. Shaking his head. "I already told you I don't believe any of this crap, but, let's just assume for a minute that you are telling the truth and that photo is real. You would be something like the 11th granddaughter of the pirate queen. and if the songs are anywhere close to accurate, someone with your birthmark will be responsible for jump starting the world again." He sat back in his chair.

Mary put her picture away. "And how am I supposed to do all that if  I don't even know who I am, what I'm supposed to do, or even why I'm supposed to do it?" She asked.

Foster shrugged. "Dunno kid, like I said before, I don't believe a word of it."

Spoonerville Page 17

Rodney walked into his grandmothers house and literally felt the fear and dread practically fall off his  body as he passed through the front door. He closed the door behind him and realized he could barely remember why he'd been so afraid in the first place.

He dropped his backpack at the foot of the stairs and kicked his shoes off into the pile. The kitchen smelled very much like childhood memories he had been trying to forget. He found his grandmother sitting next to the oven reading Blood Night: Lust. His entrance caused her to look up from her book. "Well how was your first day? I want to hear all about it." She said with a smile as she set her book down and moved her chair over to the small dining room table. Rodney sat across from her and told her everything. It all came out like water freed from a dam.

He told her about his meeting with the vice principal, his history teacher, the T.A. assignment, the fact that he had a crush on his only friend's sister. He wanted to continue but his stomach tightened, like it was fighting revealing the experience by the woods, but, why would he not share that? His grandmother might be able to explain it away, make him feel better about it.

Or she might not believe him. Most people didn't believe in 'intuition', or a 'sixth sense'.

But she had asked, and he had already told her everything else.

His grandmother tried to catch his gaze which had drifted in his silence. "Is there something else?" She asked with genuine concern.

It took all his will power and then some, but he nodded.

Her concern became significantly more intense. :"Do you want to tell me about it?" She asked very seriously.

"I -" He could feel the room closing in on him. He was torn between sharing and running out of the house screaming.

She reached for his hand, and he let her hold it in both of hers. He could feel something gritty on the table, she must has spilled some salt before he had come home.  She stared at him with such intensity he felt exposed. "You can tell me, anything." she emphasized the last word, and he felt more now than ever that he wanted to tell her. He could feel her fingers wiggling slightly as she held his hand. "I will never judge you, or punish you, for talking to me." She rubbed the top of his hand counter clockwise and the pressure in his stomach slowly released. He told her about the parking lot, the walk home, the forest, the rage, the darkness, the cold, and the feeling in his stomach until just now.

By the time he ran out of words she had severed both of their plates and sat down again. Before they started eating she complimented his decision to avoid the tree line and the woods all together.

The rest of dinner was wonderful, afterward he did the dishes and cleaned the table, wiping the salt she had spilled earlier into the kitchen trashcan. He put the hand towel back on the oven handle and went back out to the stairs to grab his back pack and head up stairs to start his homework. The closer he got to the front door the more tension he felt return. He approached his back pack carefully, feeling the darkness and tension creep further and further with each step.

He grabbed his bag and decided that for tonight at least he would do his homework in the kitchen.

Shades of Justice Page 49

It took some convincing but Dante was able to get Sonya into a hover chair and take her into the kitchen area.

Kelly had made tea, coffee, and cocoa. Warren was working on eggs and toast when Dante moved Sonya into the room.

Gordon pulled a soda from the fridge and opened it. "Warren what were you saying about drones earlier?" he asked.

Warren swapped toast for bread in the toaster and pressed the lever down. "Ever since Kyle cut that doorway into the command center storage, I've been going through it to see what all there is." He flipped the eggs in the pan. "And there's a lot. I asked Technarious about it all and apparently while Blinding Light is rebuilt every few years, there is a huge arsenal of weapons and technology that just sit in storage until they are needed again." he plated the first two eggs next to his toast and cracked two more eggs into the pan. "The drones look like they're at least a decade old but if there are any issues the system can repair them just like the system repairs Blinding Light." Warren finished.

Sonya nodded. "We understand that the drones exist, what did you want to do with them?" She asked.

Warren handed the spatula to Kelly grabbed the plate of eggs and toast and brought it over to Sonya. "I think we could use them to scout the mood base. We can map the entire place out including population movement before we ever step foot on the moon." He smiled proudly.

Sonya was halfway into a slice of toast. "When can they be ready to go? What happens if they are detected or destroyed? How long will it take to get the information we need, assuming they aren't detected or destroyed?" She asked each question between bites of toast.

Warren walked back to the toaster and pulled fresh toast from it. "The drones have cloaking technology. It should keep them almost completely invisible." he said putting the fresh toast in front of Sonya.

"Almost completely?"Gordon asked.

Warren nodded. "Nothing is ever 100% guaranteed. There are thirty two of the drones. So we can lose a few before we're in real trouble." Kelly waved him away from the stove, so he sat down at the table.

"How many is 'a few'?" Dante asked.

Warren shrugged. "Ten? Maybe half? The fewer we have the longer it will take to complete the survey." He explained.

Sonya nodded. "And we can't go and defend them because the reason we're sending them in the first place is so we know what were walking into down there." Warren nodded. "Well then." Sonya sighed. "Only one question remains." Everyone looked at her. "Do we have any sriracha for the eggs?" She asked with a smile.

Blood and Profit page 71

Kepi couldn't sleep. She, Eamon, Mew, and the rest of the senate were aboard the lead cruiser. Ship one of five hundred in pod one of one hundred, in group one of one hundred and twenty-seven.

She had helped design every step of the planned exodus. Each group of five hundred ships was broken down into pods of five ships. There were one hundred pods per group and one hundred and twenty-seven groups. The staging area for entrance into the slip was over fifteen miles long. They had worked out a staggered pod spacing to give each ship as much space as possible. With an estimated launch cycle of seven minutes per five hundred ships it would take just shy of seventeen hours to get every ship into the stream. And that was if everything went perfectly.

It was going to be a long day and Kepi couldn't sleep. It bothered her that she had seen every phase of this plan through from the beginning but now she would at the last and most important minute, when everything could go wrong, be on the first ship out.

She couldn't shake the feeling that she was running away from her responsibilities.

The logical part of her mind reminded her that her next responsibility was on the other end of the slip. Some unknowable time and distance away and into the future. She was among those who would be expected to pave the way for the colony's arrival, if they even lived long enough to get there, if there was even a 'there' to get to.

Fear gripped her stomach by the throat and flipped it violently. She shot out of her bunk and into the bathroom.

Lidarion Page 44

They had only been at the library two, maybe three weeks and so very little of their time had been free for them to explore. So the night before they departed, Trent found himself aimlessly exploring the massive building.

About forty minutes into his wandering the found an unmarked door. He placed his hand on the knob and a realization hit him like lightening.

He had not spoken with Alex since the day they set sail. He opened the door and slipped inside to find that the room was full of carved tree trunks. Dozens of them lined the walls of the room. Dozens more hung from the ceiling. His entrance caused the closet few to sway slightly.

He found an empty patch of wall and pulled the door knob from his belt pouch. Alex had said to just touch it to a wall and while he trusted her he still felt stupid doing it for the first time. A thin electric silver line emerged from above and below the door knob and traced out the shape of a door into the wall. When the line was complete he knob turned naturally as if it had always been where Trent had just placed it. The door opened a crack and Trent peaked through the gap.

He saw the darkened central area of Alex's bar. It was the middle of the night and the place wad dark but a quick reach through to touch the wood slatted floor confirmed that it was really there on the other side of the doorway.

He dragged a log over and used it to wedge the door open so there was no change it could close on him accidentally. Once he was absolutely sure the log would stop the door he stepped through into the restaurant.

He was sure the building was deserted and yet he realized he was tiptoeing as if was expecting to get caught. He reached the bar and saw a fairly large rock holding a stack of papers down. He moved the rock and discovered the papers were letters that Alex had been writing them. She had started the day they had left, which is when she realized that something like this late night arrival might occur. Each letter was dated a little later into their journey, she had kept detailed notes as to the state of Lidarion and the status of the captives and the king. He had glanced at less than half the letters when he felt the beginning pangs of homesickness.

He took the letters and found a scrap of paper and pencil behind the bar. He left a simple note, apologizing for such a long absence and promised to return again tomorrow during the day.

With his note finished he gathered the letters and went back through the door, closing it behind him.

Spoonerville: Page 16

Between the two, both Derek and Vivian would say that she was the more attentive. Always had one eye on the perimeter, always tracking the exits. Derek had learned at a young age that his sister was the perfect yin to his yang. Where she had natural paranoia and innate awareness of potential danger, Derek was curious to a fault and automatically assumed that everything would work out for the best. It rarely occurred to him that often his sister was the only reason anything ever worked out in his favor at all.

If they hadn't been arguing with each other on the drive home, maybe she would have noticed the SUV behind them, but they were arguing and she didn't notice it.

She did notice the midnight green Rolls-Royce Phantom perfectly parked in their driveway. The playfully sour attitude she had been giving her brother became deadly seriously in a flash. "Behave yourself" She pointed the car as they cleared the tree line.

Derek saw the car and his smile melted into an emotionless mask. "We've got nothing to worry about." He reassured himself.

Vivian snorted and looked in the rearview mirror. "There's always something worry about Derek."
She parked the car on the empty half of the driveway and the SUV rode to a stop directly behind the Volvo.

Vivian and Derek got out of the Volvo as the professional leg breakers got out of the SUV. Derek flipped them the bird on both hands and got no response. Vivian casually dug the Volvo's key across the pristine paint job of the Phantom.

The Phantom's passenger door opened and an older man with chalk white hair braided in cornrows that fed into a mohawk that trailed down his back. He glared at Vivian though custom sunglasses. "Must you?" He sighed with heavy annoyance.

She raised her hand with the Volvo key taking the place of her middle finger. "Paint for peace of mind Triton, If I don't get mine, you don't get yours." She didn't even look back as she stepped onto the porch.

"Bitch" Triton hissed. Derek stopped admired the damage his sister had done. "Oof, this one is gonna be expensive Toni." He smiled at Triton.

Triton glared at Derek. "Bite me pizza boy."

Derek smiled ear to ear. "That's "Prince Pizza Boy" Thank you very much." He gave an exaggerated curtsey.

"DEREK!" His sister shouted from the porch. "Quit screwing around let's get this over with." She growled and walked into the house.

Derek laughed and followed his sister.

Shades of Justice: Page 48

Technarious had given them a week. A seven day vacation from the mess their lives had become.

Dante never left. Kelly returned the morning of the fourth day to check on Sonya. Gordon arrived not long after. Warren was the last to arrive, shortly before noon.

He teleported into the command center in mid sentence. " - narious, couldn't we use the drones  - " He looked up from his tablet to see the others looking at him. "Oh, you all came back early." He smiled. Then stopped in confusion. "Why?" He asked.

"Because" Sonya mumbled quietly from the med bed. Everyone turned their attention to her in excitement. Dante shut off the containment field and helped her sit up. "five days ago we were just a bunch of kids with some training, a planet to defend, and a robot to defend it with." She started.

Kelly nodded. "I'm tired of being just a kid barely surviving the world." She added.

"I've finally found something worth really fighting for." Gordon offered.

"This is where I can do the most good." Dante added.

"We've all seen just how hard it is to make it as individuals, we weren't ready to depend on each other, to need each other, but now, we're ready to become a team." Sonya finished.

Technarious nodded. "You telling me or yourselves?" he asked.

Sonya shook her head. "I'm not telling, I'm warning, anyone who gets in our way. We were barely five and oh, thanks to dumb luck, pinch hitters, suicide saves, and really, really dumb luck. All that changes, right now."

"You think the enemies of earth are that afraid of a bunch of kids in a robot?" Mark asked.
Sonya shook her head. "I know they're not, but they're damn well going to fear The Shades of Justice." She stood up on her own two feet.

Technarious nodded again. "Then lets get to work."

Blood and Profit: Page 70

It wasn't much longer before the evacuation plans fell apart. The colony was ready to go long before their estimated evacuation date, apparently the population more than believed their lives were in danger and found efficiency to be a very useful survival tool. They had also collected enough data from their network of Satellites to confirm the speed and width of the wave. It would blanket the sky in less than eight months. This wasn't a problem for the human population who had successfully tested the ring and was ready to travel through it. But the Starseed's tree was not yet ready and based on its growth rate, they would be cutting their evacuation very, very close.

The Starseeds sent a representative to the colony senate, the representative urged the humans to leave while they could and assured them that the Starseed population would take care of itself. Their collective consciousness had covered almost half the planet in inky darkness and the sooner the humans had gone the sooner they would have less territory to defend from their own thoughts.

The senate discussed for nearly a day. In the end they voted to leave ahead of schedule. By the end of the week, they would abandon their colony.

Mew and Eamon went home for the last time expecting their father to be in sour spirits, just as they were. But he turned out to be just the opposite. He was ecstatic. He met them at the front door smiling ear to ear. "Come in, Come in!" He ushered them in and shut the door behind them.

"Why are you so happy?" Eamon asked.

Their father sat them at the dining room table and pulled a box out from under the table. "My children are going to outlive me." He pulled the top of the box off to reveal freshly printed books. "And I have finished my life's work." His eyes gleamed as he picked up a copy and handed one to each of his kids. "Not a moment too soon I might add." He laughed at his own morbid joke.

"Dad that's not funny." Mew glared at him. Eamon opened the front cover of his book and his father stopped him. "Don't read them till you've gone through the ring." He demanded. "I want this to be the way you remember me, horrible sentence structure and all." His smile softened.

Eamon closed his book slowly and Mew looked like she was about to shatter into a million pieces. She leaned over and hugged him tightly, crying quietly into his shirt. Eamon gave up, stood up, walked over and hugged his father as well. It was the most affection his kids had ever shown him and it made him smile. "You two best not wear yourselves out. We still have to say good bye later tonight."

Mew squeezed him hard enough to make him groan.

Lidarion: Page 43

Deciphering the rest of the rhymes, riddles, and stories took them days. They spread throughout the library, following half remembered lyrics, and here say until they were confident they had properly figured out how to reach out to all the paragons.

Squints and Obla'reth compiled everything they had learned into a brand-new book. Something Obla'reth had never done before and was very emotional about. He sat with his copy of the book in the central greeting area of the library as the others packed their supplies for the return trip. He was overcome with joy and equally sad.

"You can come with us you know." Dean offered stepping back into the library to grab more supplies.
Obla'reth looked up from the book. "I'd be dead within days of leaving. Besides, someone has to be here when the new librarians arrive." He smiled.

Dean nodded. "So if you're not ready to leave, why the long face?" He asked.

Obla'reth stood and place the book on his chair. "I have overseen this library for so long that time has lost all meaning to me. Just as I assume it did for every generation of librarian before me. A line so unconcerned with its own history, that I have no way of knowing who came before me, or for how long they were here." He sighed and picked the book which bore his name. "But those who come after me shall know at least part of my story." He explained with a soft smile.

Dean nodded. "Good on you. A legacy you can be proud of is nothing to be sad about." He still seemed confused.

Obla'reth nodded. "What I have begun can not be stopped or undone, but it does leave my heart heavy to realize that in our quest to preserve the history of the world, we sacrificed our own." He took a long look at the endless stacks in the wing to his right. "How could so many generations of us been so blind?" He sighed.

Dean was silent for a moment and then cleared his throat softly. "Where are you standing right now?" He asked.

Obla'reth looked at him. "In the heart of the library." He replied.

Dean nodded. "And did you build this place?" he asked.

Obla'reth shook his head. "Of course not." He answered.

Dean nodded again. "Then they didn't sacrifice their history. You are standing in the middle of it." He pointed a finger at Obla'reth. "You, are the result of it." He smiled. "Not all history can fit in a book or be contained by mere words. Your people are proof of that." Dean gestured to the building they were standing in. "You aren't disconnected from your past Obla'reth, You live in it every day, preserving it for the future." He pointed to the book. "And you've just found a new way to add to it." He said before he walked back toward the grand feast hall.

Melody and Harmony: Page 16

Foster nodded. "It's like a prayer. Or a Talisman would probably be more accurate, I guess." He shrugged. "What ever you want to call it, it's a way of staying in the good graces of the god of wind."

Aaron nodded. They came to a worn and dented, long faded brown outer airlock door. Aaron knocked four times in an odd broken pattern. "And whats the Pirate Queen's story?" He asked as the door slowly opened.

Foster followed Aaron into the airlock. "It's one of the oldest pirate rock songs. Talking about how we're sailors without a sea, and now a kingdom without a ruler. Our pirate queen was so in love with sailing that she unfurled the sails of her soul and let the god of wind take her away from the only safe harbor any of us ever truly know." The Outer air lock door hissed closed and sealed itself.

Aaron nodded. "So she died and went to Heaven." He interpreted.

Foster shook his head. "Not exactly" He corrected with a smile as the inner air lock door opened. He had been expecting another dance club and was surprised instead to to find a very large and very welcoming apartment with a large open central area.

Aaron led him in to the main area and kicked off his shoes. Foster followed suit. "Welcome to our Hideout." He held his arms open. "Don't get any ideas, we're not rich or anything. I'd say ninety percent of this is either scrounged or stolen." He sloughed his jacket off and dumped it onto a nearby table before flopping into a large jet black bean bag chair. Once he was comfortable he loudly whistled a four note jingle that seemed to echo off the walls.

"Finally!" A girls voice replied from the second floor.

Aaron looked at Foster with a smile. "Make yourself at home and feel free to explain what 'not exactly' means." He gestured to a near by empty chair.

Spoonerville: Page 15

Rodney's walk was longer than he had anticipated. The fence around the football field had already been locked so he had to walk the long way around. It was just past three and the sun was hours from setting but the tree line was tall enough that he had been walking in shade for a while. The wind was picking up and he could hear it the trees, even his noise-canceling headphones couldn't block it out entirely.

It was obvious now that Derek knew how Rodney felt about his sister. He was apparently comfortable enough with the idea to give both of them shit about what appeared to be mutual interest.

He could feel the heat sinking out of his body through his feet and into the ground with each step he took.

It was embarrassing though. The way he made fun of them. It was entirely possible that he was only cracking jokes to hide his discomfort at the idea of his friend and his sister dating.

Rodney zipped up his hoodie and shoved his hands in the pockets.

If it were his sister, he'd be furious. He'd have no way of knowing if his best and only friend was hanging out with him just to spend time with her! And that kind of deception meant they weren't really friends! And if Rodney would kill the imaginary guy dating his imaginary sister then it was logical to assume that Derek was planning to kill him, and Rodney couldn't allow that.

Rodney was still in the shade of the tree line, and he had begun to veer toward it as he continued walking. The concept of killing Derek so he could be with Vivian consequence-free had ensnared him. He did a one-eighty and began to walk back in the direction he had come from, continuing to veer closer to the tree line.

He couldn't guarantee that killing Derek would go off without a hitch. There were several things to consider, the most pressing was that once he had successfully killed the jailor of his eternal love he would have to dispose of the body. But if Vivian truly loved him she would be an ally in solving the problem of the body and any others that came up along the way. Such was the power and dedication of true love.

He had doubled back again walking towards his grandmother's house. He was coming close to the edge of the tree line and about to pull another one-eighty when he tripped over his own two feet and fell past the shade of the treeline and into the warmth of the sun. He picked himself up and dusted himself off and could remember the absolute determination he had just felt to murder his best friend.

The chill of the shade returned, this time with him standing fully in the warmth of the sun and he knew without out a doubt that he had made two very important decisions.

The first was that he would never tell anyone what had just gone through his mind.

The second was that he would never, ever, walk the tree line again.

He turned back towards his grandmother's house and tried to remain calm, but found himself sprinting to her door before he could even think of walking.

Shades of Justice: Page 47

Kelly was a great swimmer. She was good at sprints but better at distance. She had absolutely shattered school records and been a dependable scorer since she was a freshman. The other girls called her a work horse, her coach called her “hey you!” or “The quiet one.” She was not a star player, never one of the favorites. She was in all ways, exceptionally invisible.

And she liked it that way.

She had only touched the pool once since becoming a Shade and it had been forty minutes of pure bliss. This time she told herself she didn’t even need to swim. She could just relax, float, and let her ear plugs join forces with the water and make her functionally deaf to the world.

She didn’t even notice she had started laps until she was in the middle of her third turn. STOP! a part of her brain demanded. You can’t run away from this! It warned. There is no lap number, no yardage that will give you enough distance to make a clean get away!

She swam until her arms and legs were screaming louder than her mind.

When she stopped she was almost eight thousand yards away from where she had started, but when she pulled her goggles off and her earplugs out she was still in the same pool, the same school, the same life, with the same problems.

Her arms were pillars of flaming jello but she still pulled herself up out of the water and onto the deck. She rolled over onto her back and let the rush of oxygen from her huge chest raising breaths artificially lighten her mood.

“Did you make it?” Gordon asked.

Kelly opened her eyes. Gordon was looking down at her. She sat up slowly. “Nope. I got seventy eight hundred yards in before I realized I was still here.” She sighed.

He sat next to her. “There are more efficient ways to escape.” He pointed out.

She nodded. “Escape from what? I can go anywhere I want, when ever I want.” She admitted.

He nodded. “But your still stuck inside your own head.” He admitted looking at the school record board on the far side of the pool.

She looked at him for a second. “Why are you here?” She asked.

He shrugged and then met her gaze. “If I have to be stuck in this prison.” He tapped his head. “The least I can do is get to know the people in the other cells.” He smiled.

They both went back to looking at the scoreboard.

The surface of the pool had long ago gone flat like glass before she realized they were holding hands.

Lidarion: Page 41

Obla'reth returned to the podium. He opened the book and continued to translate. "It is in the best interest of all races and the paragons for the paragon's to be left alone. But the titans were not stupid. There was no point to creating stewards of the world if the world could not call upon them when needed." He turned the page. "And so there were legends and songs placed in every society. Seeded into every generation."

Obla'reth looked up from the book. "You already know how to contact the paragons." He said.

Squints sighed. "I'm pretty sure I'd remember knowing how to summon the paragons." He said.

Obla'reth looked down at him. "Do you have a particular interest in nursery rhymes, and bed time stories?" He asked.

Squints opened his mouth and froze for a second.

Brooke jumped in. "Blessed is the king of the Earth, Sitting in the heart of the crown."

Squints shook his head. "There is no crown mountain or mountain range. It's just a song, it doesn't exist." He sighed again.

"Yes it did." Harruff spoke up for the first time in hours. "Names rarely live as long as the things they identify. Crown in the oldest Minotaur language roughly translates to Urune." He explained.

Squints shook his head "I thought Urune meant hat?" He asked.

Harruff shrugged "I did say 'roughly'" He replied.

"How does this help us?" Lisa asked.

Squint's eyes lit up. "Because before we referred to that range as the 'The cliff cities' it was the Urune mountain range." he said with a smile.

Trent looked skeptical. "Who thought that 'The hat mountains' was a good name?" He grumbled.

Squints sighed "I think your missing the point."

Melody and Harmony: Page 15

They waited until the other side of the door was silent as the grave, and when Aaron opened the door the sun had already risen over the wall that bordered the city. Foster squinted in the early morning light and felt the desire to be anywhere but where he was. "Thanks for not killing me," He paused as he realized that Aaron had saved him not once but twice. "And then helping me escape the cops. But my mom's probably lost her mind by now so I'm out." He turned to head back to his part of town. The sound of the gun stopped him cold.

"You haven't told me about your bag." Aaron reminded him.

Foster sighed heavily. "You didn't want to talk in the hideaway, I doubt you want to do it here in the alley, so" He turned back towards Aaron and gestured for them to go.

Aaron stuffed the gun in his pocket. "Look I just need to know what the symbol means." he said, leading Foster to a safer location.

Foster shrugged, explaining as they made their way in between buildings. "it's a reference to a lyric from an old Setting Sails song." He said as if that explained everything.

Aaron nodded. "And whats the lyric?" he asked.

Foster was getting antsy. " I am driven to traverse every sea without fail, for if I have breath in my lungs I'l have wind for my sail." He said with impatience.

Aaron was lost. "Why would she have that as a tattoo?" he muttered to himself.

Foster raised an eyebrow. "So you do know the song?" He asked.

Aaron shook his head. "Never heard it my life." he admitted.

Foster. "So then how'd you know about the pirate queen?" He asked. "She has the winds of all seasons tattooed on her shoulder."

Aaron opened a door and ushered Foster into a dimly lit hallway. "The winds of all seasons?" He asked.

Spoonerville: Page 14

The rest of Rodney's first day was fairly uneventful. Vivian had her TA period to close out the day while the boys had P.E. Neither Rodney or Derek were any good at basketball which left them little to be excited about for the next month.

The final bell rang and the parking lot flooded with kids. Rodney was on his way out of the gum when his phone buzzed. It was a text from his grandmother.

[Tuna noodle casserole for dinner tonight, so don't make any plans with your friends. During the school year Monday and Wednesday are family dinner night.]

[Sounds good to me.]

Derek appeared next to Rodney as he was sending off his reply. "Down for some GoldenEye tonight?" He asked.

Rodney shook his head. "I can tonight. Gran's imposing family dinner nights on Monday and Wednesday." He explained.

Derek nodded. "Sweet! That leaves us the 'Za days to hang out." He said with a smile.

"'Za days?" Rodney asked.

Derek nodded. "Yeah, Tue 'Za Day, and Thur 'Za Day" He laughed at his terrible joke.

Rodney shook his head. "See the problem is you're not even ashamed."

Derek shrugged as the exited the building. "Geniuses rarely are." He boasted with a puffed up chest.

The parking lot was beginning to empty out. Vivian was leaning against the driver side door of the Volvo playing with her phone. She pocketed it as the boys approached. "Great." She sighed looking them over. "Sweaty boys, just what the leather interior needed." She groaned.

Rodney shook his head. "Your car is partially spared. I'm walking home." He confirmed while jutting his thumb at the worn out football field behind him and the more worn out houses beyond.

Vivian opened the driver's side door and unlocked the passenger side so her brother could get in the car. "You sure?" She asked.

Rodney nodded. "I've been nonexistent around the house the last few weeks. Gran wants to build a family tradition."

Vivian nodded but didn't get in the car. "Well," she paused. "Tell her I said hi, and you to enjoy yourselves." She said with a soft smile.

Derek lowered his window enough to stick his head out. "Just make out already!" He yelled at both of them.

Vivian and Rodney blushed at the same moment and Vivian broke eye contact to jam her finger into the 'window up' button on her door handle. Her brother was cackling like a hyena and pulled his head back in just quick enough to barely avoid getting trapped by the rising window. When she looked back in Rodney's direction he had already started for his grandmother's house and was waving in her direction without looking back.

Shades of Justice: Page 46

Dante slept hard and woke up tossing and turning. It took him a moment to realize where he was and what had been happening before his nightmares. He wiped sweat from his brow and Sat up, instantly feeling the wear and tear from the last few days in his shoulders. He yawned so deeply his jaw popped. He got up off the bed and slid his shoes back on. Near the door he smelled coffee.

Further down the hall he found a large room that looked more like an office building break room than a futuristic command center. There was a coffee pot on the counter that was almost full and bubbling happily. He opened cabinets until he found a mug and grabbed the coffee pot to fill it.

He was alone at a table over a half drunk mug when Mark walked into the room. "Good morning." He offered, grabbing his own mug from the cupboard. "You snore like a demon, by the way." he said with a smile. "So I hope you slept well, because I didn't" He took his full mug and sat at the table with Dante.

Dante was dazed, and still half awake. "Nightmare's." He grunted. "Feels less like I slept and more like I was dead for a few hours." He sipped from his cup. "Did I miss anything?" He asked.

Mark shook his head. "No, I would have waken you for anything important." He assured. 

They sat in silence drinking coffee for a few moments. Waking reality was starting to seep back into Dante's mind. He got up and started to pace slowly. "How long do you think she'll be unconscious?" He asked.

Mark shrugged. "I dunno, I'm not a doctor." He said with little comfort.

Dante kept moving. "I should have gone instead of her." He told mostly himself.

Mark "Oh sure, That's why there are five of you. So the other four can beat themselves up every time one of you makes a dangerous decision. It's fun, you'll see. The bad guys aren't the real danger, it's the ulcers from guilt that'll really kill you." He finished and drank his coffee.

Dante stopped pacing. "Look I appreciate everything you've done for us, really I do, but are you our boss? the sixth member of the team? the Obi-Wan to our five lukes?" Dante asked.

Mark tried not to smile. "Why do you ask?" He asked.

Dante shrugged. "Because if she weren't on that med bay I wouldn't stick around here any longer than I physically had to and I can't think of a reason that anyone would. So why'd you stay?" He asked.

Mark thought about it for a second, sipped his coffee and set it down on the table softly. "Shakespeare" He finally replied.

Dante was thrown for a loop. "Excuse me?" He asked.

Mark smiled. "Plenty and peace breeds cowards, hardness ever of hardiness is mother." He clarified.

Dante was still lost. "You say that like it makes sense." He pointed out.

Mark "There is a mindset among a certain type of person, that there is an inherent horribleness in the universe that travels by way of osmosis. More easily infecting and thus destroying anyone who has known an easy and carefree life. That only constant preparation and holding watch against evils both great and terrible can successfully prepare a person to repel such evils should the need arise, and that a society that sees no need in such a preparation is not only destined for destruction but unworthy of the lofty position previous hardened souls lifted it too in the first place." He stopped to take a drink.

Dante "And this is what you believe?" He asked.

Mark shook his head. "The exact opposite in fact." He smiled. "I believe that we have an unfortunate addiction to believing our narrative is the central and singular reason for the existence of the universe, and that to believe such a thing regardless of all the evidence to the contrary is to turn a blind eye to the incomprehensibly vast and impossibly chaotic universe."

Dante nodded "So you do believe that peace breeds weakness." He circled back around.

Mark shook his head. "No I believe that ignorance does, but the human mind can only focus on so much at any one moment. And if keeping the peace for my friends and family and everyone else on earth means my life is focused on the villainy of extra-terrestrial chaos, then so be it. I will be the hardness ever of hardiness that breeds the plenty and peace."

Dante swirled the last bit of coffee in his mug. "What about the cowards?" He asked.

Mark finished his coffee. "That's what Shakespeare and every other doomsday preper got wrong. Peace doesn't breed cowards. Cowards just are and always will be. There is no amount of hardness that can breed out fear, nor breed it in any deeper than it already is." He stood up and smiled at Dante. "I stay because this seems like the best place for me to do the most good I know how to do. And that helps me sleep at night." He shut off the coffee maker. "Now come on, let's go check on Sonya." He finished.

Blood and Profit: Page 69

Mew had flown a lot of ships in her lifetime. From civilian cruisers all the way up to vehicle haulers. She had never flown the ship she found 'out back'. A vintage Shenear Luxury CT4. One of the most sought after space legal vehicles on the planet.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and called Ling.

"I know right?" Ling answered.

"Ling, I used to dream about this Shenear CT4 and you guys want me to use it for an errand?" She almost shouted.

"It's a ship!" The professor shouted. "We needed a ship, now get in the ship, and go confirm our tests at the ring, please!" He yelled.

She could hear Ling walk out into the hallway away from the lab. "He really doesn't care about it, I honestly don't even know where he got it." She said before she ended the call.

Mew used the keys to open the door and it slid open in total silence. not even the hint of a compressor hiss or a gear spinning. She carefully stepped inside and marveled at the incredible hand done interior leather. She ran her hands along the mid wall seam as she stepped into the pilot bay. Sitting in the chair was like sitting in a cloud that was made specifically for her. After three minutes of just enjoying the experience of sitting in the CT4 she couldn't wait any longer and she started the ship. The door closed and the engine roared to life exactly as it had in ever vid she'd ever seen that had a CT4 in it.

It had been years since she thought of flying as anything other than a chore, and now because of this ship she was dreamily making her way off to do legitimate chores. She barely even noticed the almost two hour wait for the pattern to clear so she could safely transfer to orbit around the colony.

Once she was in orbit she took the opportunity to open the engine up and give it some room to run.

She zipped over to the ring at just over 60% of maximum engine thrust and could feel the rest of the ships power silently begging to be set free.

She was reaching for the throttle when the comms chimed. "Hey!" The professor shouted. "Are you there yet?" he asked, clearly frustrated by the waste of several hours.

She pressed a button to open the channel from her side. "Yeah, just got here." She confirmed.

"Good." He calmed down. "Let's get to work" He said almost sounding something close to happy.

Lidarion: page 42

Obla'reth returned to the podium. He opened the book and continued to translate. "It is in the best interest of all races and the paragons for the paragon's to be left alone. But the titans were not stupid. There was no point to creating stewards of the world if the world could not call upon them when needed." He turned the page. "And so there were legends and songs placed in every society. Seeded into every generation."

Obla'reth looked up from the book. "You already know how to contact the paragons." He said.

Squints sighed. "I'm pretty sure I'd remember knowing how to summon the paragons." He said.

Obla'reth looked down at him. "Do you have a particular interest in nursery rhymes, and bed time stories?" He asked.

Squints opened his mouth and froze for a second.

Brooke jumped in. "Blessed is the king of the Earth, Sitting in the heart of the crown."

Squints shook his head. "There is no crown mountain or mountain range. It's just a song, it doesn't exist." He sighed again.

"Yes it did." Harruff spoke up for the first time in hours. "Names rarely live as long as the things they identify. Crown in the oldest minotaur language roughly translates to Urune." He explained.

Squints shook his head "I thought Urune meant hat?" He asked.

Harruff shrugged "I did say 'roughly'" He replied.

"How does this help us?" Lisa asked.

Squint's eyes lit up. "Because before we referred to that range as the 'The cliff cities' it was the Urune mountain range." he said with a smile.

Trent looked skeptical. "Who thought that 'The hat mountains' was a good name?" He grumbled.

Squints sighed "I think your missing the point."

Melody and Harmony: Page 14

Foster, like the others was dead center of the spot light and had his hands up. He was trying to figure out where his night had gone so incredibly wrong. He shouldn't have quit the gang, it was the only life he had over known, and now he was going to prison.

The kid in white who had held him at gun point did not have his hands up. "Close your eyes." He whispered.

"Why?" Foster questioned.

"Just do it!" He snapped.

Foster closed his eyes and there was a bright flash, he could see the light even through, his eye lids. He felt the kid all in white grab his wrist and pulled him away from the alleyway.

"You can open your eyes now." He advised, as they continued to move.

Foster opened his eyes and followed the kid in white.

The kid in white stopped at a door he knocked three times with his knuckles and once with his elbow.

The door opened and the kid in white pulled Foster inside. As the door closed it faded into the wall indistinguishable from the rest of the wall.

Foster noticed immediately that the room they were in was very small, barely enough for the both of them. "What is this place?" He asked.

"Shhhh!" The kid in white hissed. "We needed a place to hide." He whispered.

Foster nodded. "Yeah but how did you even know this was here?" Foster asked in a whisper.

The kid in white turned away from the door and leaned against the wall "I do a lot of hiding, noticed pretty early on that there weren't enough places to hide. So my friends and I made some." He explained.

On the other side the door they could hear soldiers canvasing the alleyway