The Choice (The Two Moons of Rehnor, Book 8) Read online

  The Two Moons of Rehnor

  Book 8

  The Choice

  By

  J. Naomi Ay

  Published by Ayzenberg, Inc.

  Copyright 2012-2016 Ayzenberg, Inc.

  All Rights Reserved

  180116

  Cover Design by Amy Jambor

  Photo Credits: marilyna / Bigstock.com rolffimages / Bigstock.com

  Also by J. Naomi Ay

  The Two Moons of Rehnor series

  The Boy who Lit up the Sky (Book 1)

  My Enemy's Son (Book 2)

  Of Blood and Angels (Book 3)

  Firestone Rings (Book 4)

  The Days of the Golden Moons (Book 5)

  Golden's Quest (Book 6)

  Metamorphosis (Book 7)

  The Choice (Book 8)

  Treasure Hunt (Book 9)

  Space Chase (Book 10)

  Imperial Masquerade (Book 11)

  Rivalry (Book 12)

  Thirteen (Book 13)

  Betrayal (Book 14)

  Fairy Tales (Book 15)

  Gone for a Spin (Book 16)

  The Firesetter series

  A Thread of Time

  Amyr’s Command

  Three Kings

  Exceeding Expectations

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 - Tuman

  Chapter 2 - June

  Chapter 3 - Shelly

  Chapter 4 - Jerry

  Chapter 5 - Berkan

  Chapter 6 - Pedah

  Chapter 7 - Jerry

  Chapter 8 - Shelly

  Chapter 9 - June

  Chapter 10 - Shika

  Chapter 11 - Tuman

  Chapter 12 - Pedah

  Chapter 13 - Berkan

  Chapter 14 - Shika

  Chapter 15 - June

  Chapter 16 - Shelly

  Chapter 17 - Jerry

  Chapter 18 - Pedah

  Chapter 19 - Shelly

  Chapter 20 - Berkan

  Chapter 21 - Tuman

  Chapter 22 - Shika

  Chapter 23 - June

  Chapter 1

  Tuman

  "What are you doing here?" I asked as I came upon the figure of my nephew as he lay prostrate upon the dais. I had come to check the lamp, to refill the oil and to dust up a bit before the coming holiday.

  "Am I not allowed?" he replied, his voice muffled by the floor.

  "Of course you are allowed." I placed four droplets of oil into the lantern. This would last the duration of the celebration. I would fill it next week again. "I am confused. Does the holiday begin tonight? I thought it was tomorrow."

  "You are correct. I am early." My nephew pulled himself upright, perching awkwardly on one knee as his bad leg splayed out uncomfortably before him. I had not seen him in several months, perhaps even half a year as he had been busy and not graced us with his presence.

  He looked different now as each time I saw him, he appeared to change yet again. His hair and beard had turned entirely to silver, even his long lashes seemed to mirror his eyes now, rather than frame them in black. Though he had aged as the rest of us, suffering small lines here and there, his skin seemed to glow giving him an oddly youthful appearance.

  He looked neither old nor young but something entirely different though I couldn't place my finger on what exactly it was.

  "You are well?" I asked. "You have had no need to be bled these past few months?"

  He didn't answer, his silver eyes flashing instead into my own, studying my face and perhaps my whole being. I could feel the tension in his body, the quivering of muscles tightly drawn as I stood before him, letting him examine me. The thought crossed my mind that something was wrong with me, although his expression gave away nothing.

  Would he tell me if I had a tumor and was soon to die? My heart hurt a little. A passing extra thump or a few quavers of palpitations happened now and then, but there was nothing to concern me. Most of the time, it was merely indigestion of my wife's cooking.

  My nephew sighed and for a moment, his whole being seemed to relax.

  "To answer your question, I am healthy and not plagued by any pains other than the complaints of those who surround me. The disturbance I feel is not a physical sort nor anything that can be cured simply by willing it so."

  With that, he struggled to his feet, refusing the assistance of my hand. Instead, he summoned his cane from the never-land where it resided.

  "What is it then? May I offer my humble unenlightened guidance?" He shook his head slightly, the light from his eyes, from his whole being flickering off the dark walls of the building surrounding us.

  "At least let me offer you dinner then," I suggested whilst guiding him from the Temple. "My wife has surely prepared something that shall tempt you." He smiled slightly and demurely insisted he would dine elsewhere. "No, you are correct," I agreed. "It has been many years since she has created anything worthy of enduring her conversation. Now in her golden years, her cooking is only growing more unsavory as she forgets exactly how much salt or sugar she has already added. Perhaps I shall dine with you instead? I'm told Keko's grandson has bested even his grandfather's culinary skills. Not only can he fry eggs but he is quite capable of poaching. He can even make toast simultaneously, I'm told."

  "I am leaving momentarily, Tuman," my nephew replied as we mounted the steps to his porch and then entered his house. He removed his ceremonial robe and tossed it on the sofa. Beneath he was wearing his Mishnese Court clothes.

  "You shan't be spending the Holiday with us?"

  "No Uncle." My nephew turned back to me, his mouth open as if to say more.

  Deciding against it, he instead called for his traveling cloak from the grandson of old Keko, who stood in the kitchen frying his eggs. The boy set down the pan, turning off the flame, before running to fetch my nephew's cape.

  "But the Holiday," I began to protest before shutting my mouth. It was not my place to lecture him or suggest what he must do especially when he was so clearly disturbed. "Are you going back to Mishnah?"

  "No." Again, he turned to me as if he wished to say more. His silver eyes bored into my face, seeming to implore of me to read his mind instead.

  "Do you wish for me to join you to wherever it is you shall journey?" I watched as he shrugged on the heavy black wool cloak lined in mink fur. The hood fell over his head nearly entirely obscuring his face, as was its intent. "Would you?" I repeated for if he wished otherwise; he would have quickly said no.

  "It shan't be pleasant, Tuman."

  "You and I have already travelled to Hell once before."

  "No, you have not." He turned from me and once again picked up his cane. "You have no clue of the horror of which you speak."

  "Do you?"

  He didn't respond.

  "Will you take me then?" I followed him back toward the door. "I'll fetch my own cloak forthwith."

  He stood upon his porch and waited which I understood to be his consent. I was happy to accompany him as I was always pleased to have a few moments of his presence. I hoped that, on this journey, he might even relax and speak cordially with me. Long ago, he had been far more than a nephew to me.

  He was too young to be my brother and too old to be my son, yet I regarded him as both as well as my friend. I ran quickly, or rather as quickly as my aged legs would trot, to my home down the length of the village where my wife stood before the stove stirring a pot of soup.

  "Where are you going now?" she demanded.

  "I don't know." I tossed my own robes into a bag and donned a cloak.

  "Going with Senya?" she snorted, surmising it. "Will you come back?"

  "I believe so. He
hasn't told me otherwise."

  "That is no guarantee. With him, you never know." My wife lifted her spoon and blew ripples upon the broth before sipping from it delicately. She made a face of distaste and then on second thought declared it not too bad. "Pity you're leaving before dinner. You might have enjoyed this after all. If it is to be your last meal, you should sit down and savor it."

  "My last meal? Don't be ridiculous. It is only a short trip. Furthermore, you know I don't like sheep."

  I had noted the animal parts strewn in the trash. Garinka loved to experiment with all sorts of ingredients, never once reading a recipe or taking another's advice.

  The sheep were plentiful this year due to the unseasonable cold wet weather that had lingered on the Karupatani continent in place of what should have been spring and summer. Our wheat crops were paltry, our corn straggly thin ears, but our sheep were fat and thickly coated, presenting us with an abundance of mutton and wool.

  My wife had served it daily though I was tired of it and never actually liked it much anyway. I would have far preferred a fresh tomato or a salad of crisp greens. I even longed for the days when my dinner was a fish that I caught and filleted for myself, accompanied by a hunk of fresh bread, purchased from the baker in the market.

  "Why not fish tonight, Garinka?" I had suggested just two days ago.

  "With sheep so plentiful and tasty?" she objected. "Who needs some dull dry fish?"

  "Are you certain you can't stay longer to at least taste the soup?" She now offered me a spoon. "It's made with sheep's milk and fish eggs. My niece in Shrotru recommended it, and the eggs were on sale. I thought it an unpleasant combination, but I'm beginning to like it. It grows on you, I think. Come Tuman, taste it."

  "No, I must hurry. I'm so sorry, but I must go. Goodbye my Garinka, I shall see you again and hopefully before not too long."

  "Whatever." She shrugged and allowed me to peck at her cheek before I tossed my bag across my shoulder and opened the door.

  "Take the trash out on your way," she called. "I shall miss your help. You certainly aren't the easiest one to live with, Tuman, but I do value your hard work."

  "I said I am coming back." I reminded her while collecting the bag of mutton parts. "I'm certain it won't be too long."

  "Mhm," she mumbled, sipping the soup again.

  Shutting the door, I headed to the village incinerator to dispose of my trash.

  "I'm ready," I called to my nephew as I arrived again at his house.

  He was still on his porch, smoking a cigarette and gazing blankly at the night sky, which was nothing but dark clouds obscuring the two moons and stars.

  "Well, that makes one of us." He exhaled a cloud of gray smoke and slowly stepped down the three steps to the muddy ground upon which I stood. Then together we crossed the village and climbed the short path to the steppes. Several Imperial spaceplanes awaited our departure.

  "Sir," an Imperial guardsman declared rushing to open a door. "Prince Tuman."

  "Just Tuman," I insisted, as I always did, following my nephew inside.

  Although, I was prince by birth, I was hardly worthy of even a nod of recognition when compared to my nephew who ruled more planets and stars than I could even count.

  The plane took off into the evening sky, the rain splattering against the window panes as we soared above the valley and out across the ocean. The weather was tempestuous even there, tossing the sea about in magnificent swells, which erupted into foamy white crests and caused the wind to buffet our craft making the ride truly unpleasant.

  My nephew was not interested and appeared to take no mind of the violent conditions through which we passed but rather lounged passively upon his seat, smoking his cigarettes, a bottle of Vodka provided by the attendant his primary diversion.

  The attendant offered me a drink as well, and when we reached the planet's thermosphere having breached the planet's gravitational demands, I did finally ease the strain in my shoulders and requested a bottle of ale.

  I had never grown accustomed to space flight as my own experience had been quite limited to horrific journeys primarily against my will. When given the choice of a horse or a spaceplane, I would far prefer the horse and a simple boat even beyond that.

  "Will you tell me now where we are going?" I asked, the alcohol loosening my tongue. "Which of your many dominions shall we be calling upon this week?"

  "Tuman," he began and from the tenor of his voice I could tell that the vodka had lessened his tension, as well. "We shan't be going to one of my planets at all. We shall be leaving this Empire altogether. In fact, Tuman, my uncle and brother, you shall be venturing into another dimension."

  I had not a clue what that meant and at the time it did not strike me that he referred only to myself. Instead, I took another gulp of my bottle. In fact, I finished it entirely and was about to turn to ask him more when the vid rang overhead.

  "Madame, Sir," the attendant announced. My nephew groaned and shook his head before swallowing more of his own beverage.

  "Shall I tell her, you are occupied, Sir?"

  "No, I shall speak with her. Go ahead. Put her on."

  "Where are you?" my niece demanded even before her face came into view. "I thought you were in Karupatani for a few days. Are you coming back here?"

  "No, I am not."

  "Where are you going?"

  "That is an exceptionally good question. The answer to which shall be Tuman's choice."

  "Are you drunk?"

  "Perceptive." In remarkably few words, the Lady had deduced the state of my nephew's intoxication. She had done so far quicker than my wife ever could.

  "No, I am not drunk. Well, perhaps slightly so. Is that the intent of your call? Do you mean to berate me for attempting to relax?"

  "No, not at all," she snapped. "It would have been nice if you shared your plans with me and maybe your staff. You could have at least left a forwarding message on your email. Instead, we are all running around in a panic here wondering what has happened to you."

  My nephew chuckled a little.

  "You are in charge, Madame. Rule the Empire as you wish. Destroy the Alliance or your own planets. Whatever you decide to do you have my complete concurrence."

  "Don't be an ass," the Lady scoffed. "What if I have a question or need your advice. What if something happens? Will you answer your cell if I try to ring you?"

  "No," the Emperor replied. "You shall be on your own. Of course, you have my beloved and loyal staff always at your disposal. They shall have volumes of advice, most of it wrong, and be ever so anxious to offer assistance."

  "Very funny, Senya. When are you coming back? I need you here. We all need you here."

  "You miss me already?"

  "Of course I do."

  My nephew smiled, and his demeanor softened. "I'm sorry, Kate. There is something important I must do now. I am confident you shall handle the situation there quite capably. I shall return as quickly as I may."

  "Whatever it is, will you please be careful? Don't break anything, kill anybody or hurt yourself."

  "I'll do my best, Love."

  The vid clicked off. My nephew lit a fresh cigarette by tapping the end with his finger. He put it between his lips and took a long drag whilst appearing to gaze out the window at the stars.

  "What situation?" I asked tentatively.

  My nephew shook his head dismissively indicating he did not wish to share more. Instead, I settled back in my seat. Folding my arms across my chest, I made to sleep. I was just drifting off, my eyelids growing heavy when I heard his voice again.

  "Something horrific may be about to happen," he said as casually as announcing the scores to a football match. "Hundreds of people may die for no fault of their own, whilst others shall be enslaved for generations to come. Many will perish trying to fight off Evil. On the other hand, none of that may happen. Would you like to choose who shall be granted the gift of life such as it is?"

  I forced my eyes open again as my he
art skipped a little.

  "Choose what. I don't understand."

  "Someone must do it, Uncle," he continued, his eyes flickering in my face. "Fate is not quite as it seems. Nothing is by chance. It's all a choice. Everything is decided, and someone must make that decision. Why not you?"

  "What are you talking about?" I whispered, my heart pounding so loudly I could barely hear my own words. "Are you saying you will cause this horrific event? You will choose to kill these people, for as you say no apparent reason?"

  He made a snorting sound before sucking again on his cig. Then he shook his head slightly sending shards of silver light cascading through his curls. "In either case, I shall be blamed as I always am. It is all the same whether I cause or merely allow it."

  "I don't understand why you would do this." My voice trembled in fear. "What reason could you have to take innocent lives?"

  "Ay yah, that is the interesting part, isn't it? The reasons, I mean." He took a long pull on his bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Bloody difficult being me, although I'm not complaining or making excuses." He laughed a bit drunkenly as he lit up another smoke.

  "I want to go back home. Take me back to Karupatani now. I don't wish to complete this voyage with you."

  "Ach, ‘tis too late. Your number is up, Tuman de Kudisha, and this time, the choice is yours."

  "What do you mean?" I cried as he rose to his feet and held out his arms.

  A bitterly cold wind swept through this spaceplane as if a door had opened and let the elements in.

  "I'm going to leave you for a bit. I've got another meeting, and I'm afraid it's with Someone more important than you. Enjoy your adventure and Uncle, choose wisely."

  My nephew's robes swirled around him creating a tornado of silver light from which he vanished from my presence entirely.

  "Senya!" I called as fear raced up my spine. "Come back here! Where did you go?"

  Inexplicably, I ran to the window expecting to find him flying amongst the stars. Of course, he wasn't there, only endless darkness greeted me, save the billions upon billions of tiny lights that offered no comfort whatsoever.