Jargos

by Resha Caner

Chapter 3:
Aphelion and Perihelion

conclusion

Jargos started, but Ethred cut him off before he could speak. “The perihelion, Elena. Nemesis will draw too close to the sun and will lose radio contact with Oced. The government has been trying to rectify the situation. They’re building radio towers all across the moon, trying to build a network that can breach the solar noise. Why do you think they let Jargos come to this valley? It was supposed to be Wandi slaves in the mines and Graseq slaves building towers. You saw it. Does it look like Jargos has been diligent about his work?”

“Eight courses,” Jargos finally spoke, but the words struggled out of his throat. “With the arrival of the new equipment we will be able to lay eight more courses of stone. As I told them, we have other work to do. We must feed the people. We must clothe them.”

“You will never finish before the perihelion at this rate!” Ethred snarled. He clenched his fist, and Jargos made a choking noise. “What will happen when Oced loses its supply of Indirium ore?

“That is your plan, isn’t it? Step by step, Jargos. You are taking this moon step by step. First they gave you this valley. Then they agreed to pull the guards and leave you in command. The Wandi camp on the other side has no such privilege. Shall we ask your whore what she thinks of that? What will happen to the Wandi slaves when you take the moon, Jargos?”

The old man put his hand to his throat, and stumbled back to lean on a table. Su moved to his side, her face twisted with fear. “Jargos, what is wrong?”

“And you, Elena. Soon Oced will realize you were framed. They will realize their mistake, but it won’t matter. Here you are, the prisoner of Jargos. With you as hostage, he can buy more time.”

Ethred horrified her. She could feel him now, reaching out to her through the Maartos, demanding she believe him, insisting she obey. She wanted to flee, but his words... Dark and twisted as they were, everything fit together. It all made sense. It was not a black evil he was speaking, but the righteous anger of truth. Yes! She had every reason to hate Jargos. It was his fault. He had brought her here as part of his selfish plan to make Nemesis a free Graseq kingdom.

“Join me, Rajin,” Ethred held out his hand. “Help me turn the Graseq against this gnarled, pathetic beast called Jargos. Convince them to build the tower and activate the network. The President will be grateful. We will rule, my queen.”

A thin scream streaked through the gray haze. Su had left Jargos prostrate on the table, and now came from behind Ethred bearing a dull, rusty sword hammered from discarded scraps of metal. She dragged it across the floor, unable to bear its weight. Ethred turned to snarl at her, but he was too late. Using all the momentum her body could muster, she swung the sword in a great arc, and drove it into Ethred’s neck.

Ethred stumbled sideways, and his mouth gaped open. A roar poured from between his teeth, flooding the air, consuming the oxygen. Jargos collapsed to the floor like a puppet whose strings were cut, and Rajin felt as if a sickness were draining from her body.

“You never believed,” the creature who had been Ethred spoke. His muddy eyes caught fire, and he swatted Su to the floor as if she were only an annoying fly. Jargos began to slowly rise, but the creature moved forward, gaining in height with each step.

“Who are you?” Jargos demanded.

“Son of Brunac,” the creature spit the words distastefully. “You abandoned my father at Gralan Field. Do you remember?”

“You are not Graseq,” Jargos countered.

“More Graseq than you ever were, Jargos. A true Graseq is mortal in body, but Vanai in soul. We tried to explain this, but you did not listen. You would separate from us. We cannot allow it. So I have come.”

“Who?” Jargos did not ask. He challenged.

The beast growled at the old man’s defiance. He snapped his head, sending shudders down his whole body. Thick, leathery wings unfolded from his back, slapping against the roof as a fell presence embraced the entirety of the house. “I am Yolok — the Destroyer.”

“No.” Jargos closed his eyes and shook his head. “It can’t be.”

“You will believe.”

Rajin dove for the sword. Yolok swept out a foot as if he had anticipated her move, and clamped the weapon to the ground. “Where are your loyalties, Elena?” he said, his eyes still on Jargos.

She would not be deterred. She gripped the hilt that protruded from beneath the cracked, seeping skin of his foot, and rotated the blade to turn the cutting edge into his flesh. Yolok bellowed, lifting himself to rip the roof from the house so he could reach his full height. Then his burning eyes looked downward where she lay at his feet. His braided hair came alive, digging and weaving its way through his face.

“Attack!” Jargos commanded.

Yolok looked away from Rajin, wrenching backward in surprise. “How?” was the only word the demon spoke. Then he turned on the array of Graseq warriors. A volley of discs rose from outside the broken walls of the house, thudding into his body. The demon pulled them from his flesh, and used them as knives to slash at the warriors.

Rajin heard cries of pain and anguish as Yolok kicked away the remnants of the wall, and waded into the midst of the Graseq militia, ripping at them with both hands. The sword was free, and she rose with it in her hand, but Jargos quickly came to her side.

“Give it to me.”

“No.”

“It will not stop him. This is not your fight.” Jargos eased the sword from her hands.

“You accept defeat too easily,” Rajin said.

“Who said I was defeated?” Jargos’ eyes sparkled. From beneath his shirt he pulled a medallion, hanging from a simple iron chain. Removing it, he gently placed it in her hands. “This was given to me many years ago by a Wandi friend. It saved my life.”

Somehow Rajin knew what he asked of her, and looked up the valley slope toward the mountain pass. “Give me some time.”

“As much as I can.”

Su approached, and Rajin felt relieved to see the old woman recovered. She reached to touch Rajin on the lips. “Do not think. If you think it, Yolok will know.”

Rajin leaned forward to give Su a kiss, but the old woman pushed her away. “Go! Hurry!”

As Jargos took the sword into the melee, Rajin set her foot upon the mountain path. For a moment she walked, looking over her shoulder as Yolok cut down row after row of Graseq warriors. The carnage ate at her heart, yet she could not tear her eyes away. Jargos was in that mass of death somewhere, and she felt a strange connection to him. It was the first warm feeling she had ever received from the Maartos. How could his heart be so strong amongst such agony? She now understood why men followed him even if it meant death. She had to succeed.

She pulled herself away from the comfort of Jargos’ bond, and tried to push everything from her mind. Yolok could not know what she was doing. Before her stood the mountain that had defeated her, a few streaks of gray cloud passed its crown. Ethred, who was now Yolok, must have silently mocked her every step up the slope. She had fed on that anger the first time. She would do it again.

The slope pitched more and more steeply upward. Rajin broke into a trot. Her heart began to ram blood through her veins as muscles demanded more oxygen. She put her head down, straining the tendons in her legs. Her legs were all that mattered. The only purpose of her body was to feed the movement of her legs. The mountain fought her, and in response she increased her speed.

The air grew colder and thinner, and a strong wind tangled her hair. Her lungs ached, and she began to wheeze. Her chest tightened, but she grit her teeth together, and refused to yield.

The top! She could see the ridge. Please. Oh, please let it be true. Please, God! She reached the summit, and looked down onto a frozen, barren plain lit weakly by the rays of a distant sun. Hopeful, she looked up, but the clouds were still sparse. No! Where is it! She grasped the medallion in both hands, and held it out toward the sun. “It has to be here!!”

The head of Yolok snapped about with a force that would have broken mortal bones. His arms dropped to his sides, and he peered at Rajin standing on the summit. The Graseq renewed their efforts, firing disc after disc into his body, but he ignored them. Scanning the mass of warriors, Yolok spotted Jargos and sneered. “You have failed.”

Slowly he turned as the warriors grabbed at his arms and legs; they climbed onto his back, trying to bring him down. Throwing back his head, he howled at the sky, then shook his body violently, throwing off the attackers. He took a step toward the ridge, judged the distance, then made three great strides, and threw himself into the air.

Rajin stumbled backward, tripped, and fell head over heels down the outside slope of the mountain toward the plain below. The stagnant waves of sand waited to consume her body. She couldn’t see — couldn’t tell what was up or down. Her body scraped and slid down the mountain until she was screaming in pain, struggling for consciousness. She flailed her arms, and her fingers tore at anything which might stop her fall.

Just as Yolok gained the ridge, she finally slid to a stop, less than twenty meters above the surface of the plain. Pushing up onto bloody hands and knees, she gazed toward the sky where Yolok grinned down at her. Wobbling to her feet, she searched for the medallion, but it was gone.

“What foolish little talisman did you hold, Elena?” He leapt from the peak.

“Not foolish.” Her lips curled back in an insolent smile as she spotted a front of black cloud passing over the mountain.

The demon landed part way down the mountain, pounding the earth so ferociously Rajin felt tremors beneath her feet. A cloud of dust rose to surround him, but he vaulted above it with another great leap. Only three more and he would be upon her. Each thundering stride caused another geyser of dust and sand. Small pebbles pelted her, but she stood her ground. She saw it.

The dust did not settle. The wind jealously grabbed the clouds and held them suspended over the ground. Dark streaks were rushing down onto the plain.

Yolok made one more leap, his teeth bared in a snarl of victory. Rajin looked calmly toward the chaos pouring out onto the plain.

“Don’t you remember what you told me?” she asked. Yolok looked nervously over his shoulder. The wind pressed hard, and Rajin leaned forward, shouting to be heard, “Between the aphelion and perihelion come the storms!”

Yolok squatted low to the ground, bracing himself for the onslaught, howling with a voice already consumed by the roaring of the wind. Rajin dropped, flattening herself to the ground. She lost sight of Yolok, and pushed her face into the crook of her arm, squeezing her eyes tightly to ward off the sting of the grinding sand. Her body began to slip further down the mountain, pushed by the growing rage of the storm. Soon she would be lost in the resurrected dunes of the plain, but she didn’t care. It was worth it. She could feel the warmth of Jargos’ presence. He was alive, and he reached out to calm her.

* * *

“She was such a pretty little thing,” Su’s voice made its way through her foggy mind.

“We were fortunate to find her,” Jargos said. Rajin smiled at the sound of his voice.

“Look, she’s waking up.”

The sentence seemed to proclaim her punishment. She couldn’t feel one leg. The other twitched, sending lightning bolts of pain up her spine.

Rajin felt a hand take hold of hers. It was rough and calloused, and she loved it dearly. She squeezed back as hard as her weakened body would allow. Her eyes couldn’t see yet — maybe they never would again — but it didn’t matter.

“You did it. He’s gone.”

“I lost your medallion,” the words came out in a raspy, distorted voice. It hurt to speak, and Su took her other hand, soothing her into silence.

“Don’t talk, Erika,” Jargos said. “We’ll get you back to Oced on the next shuttle.”

“Build the tower.”

No one responded.

“Jargos, the whole universe will hear your voice. Build the tower.”