Spirits of the Earth: The Complete Series: (A Post-Apocalyptic Series Box Set: Books 1-3) Milo Fowler (different e readers TXT) 📖

More laughter erupts from the crowd.

“Why would they do this?” Lemuel speaks up, his young voice echoing. “The goblyns, I mean.”

“Who are you to interrupt Lord Cain?” old Justus demands, striding toward the youth with a trembling fist raised to mete out punishment for this flagrant breach of etiquette.

“Let him be. It’s an honest question—from one whose voice still cracks.” I watch Lemuel redden and sink to a cross-legged position as raucous laughter fills the Temple. I hold up a hand, and they quiet down. “Why do the goblyns attack us without provocation? Why do they eat the living and desecrate the dead? Gaia has told us why. They were like us, once. The United World government sent them to this continent before it was ready for them, before it was safe. They thought it was only the radiation and the residue of biological weapons that they had to be concerned with. They did not know about Gaia or her rival, the false god worshiped by Luther and his nomads. They did not know of the gifts Gaia had given us. They sent troops here with weapons and vehicles, and their own hate devoured them. Gaia turned their flesh inside-out, fried their minds with the unforgiving sun’s rays. Now they are nothing more than wild animals, acting on instinct.”

I narrow my eyes at Lemuel. “You ask why they would blow that helicopter out of the sky. I ask you, why wouldn’t they? It carried fresh meat!”

The throng nods and murmurs their assent. Lemuel sinks closer to the gilded floor. Old Justus seems pleased; the young pup may be learning his place.

“There were many UW scouts on that helicopter when it crashed,” I continue. “Little remains of the hull or the engines, but the rotors somehow managed to remain intact.” Another pause, for effect. “As did five of the crew.”

Now excited whispers of surprise pass among all present. I draw myself up, my chest swelling. I wait for the fervor of their questions to settle.

“They are all that remain. The bodies of the others would be difficult to collect and identify, even with the most advanced retrieval systems. The goblyns hit them with a shoulder-launched missile.”

“How did the five scouts survive?” Lady Victoria asks with mild interest from the front row, seated with my other pregnant wives.

“They wore heavy body armor and environmental suits that protected them from the fall. Someone must have told them our air is toxic.” I chuckle and wink. Victoria smiles back at me. “But they are unarmed,” I add. “Not a weapon to be found among them.”

“Why would they come so ill-equipped?” asks a skeptic from the crowd.

“That is not our concern.” I square my jaw. “We must decide what to do with them.”

“Kill them!” cries Justus with an upraised fist.

Many join in his exuberance, but a few voice the word retaliation with concern.

I cannot help smirking. “Those United World warships have been bobbing impotently beyond our shore for as long as we’ve been out of the bunkers. Their scouts were shot out of the sky days ago, yet the Argonaus has done nothing to rescue them. What makes you think they give a damn?”

“Why were they sent ashore in the first place?” Justus asks with a frown. “Some kind of suicide mission?”

I wait for silence to reclaim the room before speaking. “Eden,” I say in a calm, cool tone. “They came for Eden...and their children.” I spit out the word.

A faint ripple of laughter sweeps through the masses. I face my people with both arms outstretched. “Gaia will decide what is to become of those scouts. If they are to be blessed as we are, then she will decide what gifts they are worthy to possess. If the vileness of their true nature is to be exposed to the ravenous sun, then she will turn them inside-out. They will become goblyns, added to the ranks of our enemies.” I nod. “Gaia’s will be done!”

“Gaia’s will be done,” the throng murmurs, nodding solemnly.

All except Lemuel, who leaps to his feet. “We should send them back.”

Justus turns sharply on the lad, who cringes but remains standing.

I regard him coolly. “Come up here, Lemuel.”

The young man swallows, uncertain.

“You heard Lord Cain,” Justus hisses, striking his shoulder with a fist. “Get your ass up there!”

Subdued laughter courses through the crowd as Lemuel awkwardly makes his way forward to where I stand. Stepping over the people sitting cross-legged all around him, he stumbles headlong until he is caught by the scruff of the neck in my vice-like grip.

“What’s that you say?” I hold him still. “Send them back? To their ship, is that it?”

Lemuel stiffens, looking like some kind of bizarre ventriloquist’s dummy. “They’ll leave us alone if we do. If we don’t—”

“Are you afraid to die?” I growl.

“Their people will kill us all. We’ll bring war on ourselves—”

“War is already upon us.” I shove him down, and he sprawls into the front row of the assembly. Rough hands push him aside, but Lady Victoria makes a place for him beside her. She glares up at me defiantly as Lemuel folds his legs beneath him and hangs his head. I clench my jaw but say nothing to my young wife. “Their scouts crossed the border into our land! We who saw their helicopter rejoiced greatly when it burst into flames, exploding in pieces. They are the ones who have brought war—”

Come outside. Come to me.

I freeze mid-sentence, my mouth open. Puzzled frowns crease the brows of my people, and they glance at one another in the awkward silence.

I turn away without a parting word. A collective murmur of disquiet reverberates against the walls as I bound up to a hatch and climb out.

Come, my son.

Gaia’s voice beckons, and I go willingly, pausing only to throw on my cloak. The iron door clangs shut behind me as I stride out into the cool night, inhaling gusts of ocean air that chill my