Chapter 1

The Redakai masters stood in a semicircle around Lokar, each crouched in a fighting stance, ready to leap in at their guest if he so much as twitched suspiciously. The dark master did not make any suspicious movements. As a matter of fact, he did not move a muscle, but rather he just stood there, sunken eyes staring unblinkingly at master Boddai. The old master did not shrink away from that intense gaze. To the contrary, he seemed to gain strength from it, the strength one got from defiance.

''What do you want, Lokar?'' master Baphamel demanded.

Master Boddai eyed his old rival curiously, for the physical changes in the man resembled the changes he himself was going through. The old master wondered whether he had perhaps lost his signature monster, the dragon Draquilar. He dismissed that notion immediately. Lokar did not draw his power from his signature monster, as he himself did, but rather from the shadow kairu. Then the truth of it, or at least a small part of that truth, came clear to him.

''Malice did this to you,'' master Boddai stated as much as asked.

''She robbed me of my ability to channel kairu,'' Lokar said, his large hand clutching the head of his cane so tightly that his knuckles went white from the strain. ''She betrayed me, the ungrateful child, and used Gleipnir on me. She tore the ability right out of me, and now I can not so much as use my inner kairu to shield myself from the rain.'' He looked up, the driving rain streaking his hollow cheeks. ''And if it was not enough for her to rob me of my power and my dreams, she had to blow my lair up as well.''

''And what of your e-teens?'' master Boddai asked.

''Zane has thrown in with her, and he killed my Imperiaz!''

The masters gasped in shock at the news.

''What of their parents?'' master Quantis demanded. ''Have your freed them?''

''They mean nothing to me,'' Lokar said.

Master Quantis had to hold out his arm to stop master Baphamel from rushing past him and knock Lokar to the ground. ''You have to realize that without your powers, we can arrest you here and now,'' the Head of the Redakai stated plainly, rising up to his full height, which put him at about shoulder level to the slouching Lokar. ''Why then did you choose to come to us?''

Lokar did not reply, but slowly and unthreateningly brought a hand to his belt and drew forth his x-reader. The Redakai tensed even more, if that was even possible, but then they relaxed as the truth came clear to them. Not too long ago, that device had made Lokar one of the most powerful beings in the universe for all the power contained within. But now he could not even access that power, making it useless to him. Lokar brought the device up before him, and an image appeared, hovering above it.

Boddai found breath hard to come by as he gazed upon Palladion again, his signature monster and the source of his greatest power. He closed his tired old eyes, and basked in the familiar sensation of power that eagerly radiated from the x-drive, as if it too wanted to be reunited with him. But as he started to reach for it, a thought came into his mind, and he stopped. ''Why would you give this back?'' he asked, eyes narrowing with icy suspicion.

''Because,'' Lokar said, ''as much as I want to see you fall, I want to see that traitorous granddaughter of mine fall even more.''

With hands trembling with anticipation, master Boddai pointed his x-reader at the image hovering before him, and with the press of a button he absorbed it. For moments that seemed more life minutes, nothing happened. But then the old man was wreathed in bluish-white light, and he began to change, his back straightening. His wrinkles smoothed out, and his gray hair reverted back to its previous color. His eyes became sharper, shedding the dull and glaced look, and becoming full of energy and life. He let go off the cane, which clattered on the ground, and he stood upright in perfect balance. He received many congratulatory pats on the shoulder from his fellows.

''Just because you did this, does not mean we will let you go free,'' master Quantis said, turning back to stare Lokar in the eye. ''You will be called to account for all the atrocities you have committed, and you will tell us the location of the parents of the Imperiaz.'' That said he motioned for Lokar to be taken away. The other masters grabbed the large man by the elbows, and started to lead him away toward the dungeons. But master Boddai called for them to wait a moment.

''You should know,'' master Boddai said. ''Maya is dead, murdered by Malice.''

''A pity,'' was all that Lokar offered in return, before being led away.

xxxxx

''I do not like they way they are looking at us,'' Techris growled into his drink, nodding over his shoulder, to where a group of four young men, all drunk, were pointing at him and Zair and laughing mockingly, not even trying to hide their disdain. Zair just rolled her eyes and shook her head. Techris had said this many times over their last twenty minutes in the bar, and despite her insistence that mere drunks were far beneath their contempt, she feared he would fly into a rage and knock them silly.

A part of her wanted him to fly into such a rage, for the four young men were really starting to get on her last nerves. But still she did not wish to be thrown out into the street, like at the last bar they had visited, where Techris had gotten into a fight. Zair glanced around at her surroundings, at the disco ball hanging from the ceiling, the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor, and the band playing on the dais near the wall. She silently cursed Zane for abandoning them, and leaving them to attend filthy places like this. She noticed the four young men approach, and she shook her head again.

''I see the circus has come to town,'' the leader of the group slurred. ''You're with the circus, aren't you, freak?''

''Who are you calling a freak,'' Techris growled, standing to face the man.

Zair had a sip of her drink as she watched the spectacle unfold, with the four men offering more insults, and with Techris growing more volatile with each remark. A few insults were directed her way, but she ignored them, reminding herself that these fools were completely beneath her contempt. Techris, on the other hand, was not held back by any such compunction, as the unfortunate drunks soon learned.

The leader of the group offered one final insult before Techris sprang upon the man, grabbing him by the back of his hair and slamming his face down hard on a table, his hard head blasting through the wood. That done, he turned to the other guys, who were backing steadily from this volatile creature they had just roused to violent action. Techris sprang upon them with a snarl.

''Well this place stank anyway!'' Techris roared at the bouncer a few minutes later, right before the bouncer slammed the door closed in his face, leaving him and Zair standing out in the driving rain. Zair rolled her eyes and shook her head again, silently cursing her brother for abandoning them the way he had done. She looked to her companion, then led the way down the street.

xxxxx

Roger wound his way along a rocky trail that squeased in between two cliffs, his laser rifle resting on one broad shoulder. His sentry duty was done this day, and he was returning to the cave that served to house all the refugees from his village. He stopped some distance along the trail, looking back the way he had come to be sure no one was following him. He glanced to the side then, at a large shadow, cast by an overhanging jag in the stone wall. That shadow actually hid a wooden door, that had been painted and coated with clay so as to be camouflaged from view. Behind this door was the entrance to the cave housing his people.

The people of all the nearby villages received word a few weeks ago that a host of gihox was approaching, and so the people had fled. Each village had found a nearby cave and hid there, using radios to keep in contact with each other. It was over the radio that Roger and his fellow villagers had learned that the one of the caves had been discovered by the gihox, and promptly overrun.

Roger knocked on the door in the manner of the signal, and a short while later the portal opened a crack, and the head of a guard peaked out to regard him. Roger was a large and barrel-chested man, his arms huge and powerful, bulging with sinewy muscle. His hair now held more gray than its previous fiery orange, but his back was still straight, his square jaw firm, and his olive-green eyes were as sharp as ever.

Roger walked through and down a long and wide tunnel, lit only by torches sitting in sconces along the walls. The tunnel narrowed to the point where two men could walk abreast without brushing against each other. If by some chance the gihox would get into this cave, they would be at a sore disadvantage, for the narrow tunnel would funnel the giants so only one could come in at any given time. What was more, in the shadows near the ceiling were several small laser turrets, each resembling a many-faceted metal ball, that would shoot down any gihox who got this far.

At the end of this tunnel there loomed a massive cavern, with jagged stalactites leering down from the ceiling. The cavern was filled with people from his village, going about their chores, with the children playing games. There were several tunnels that led out of this vast chamber. Roger walked down one of those, coming into a smaller cave, with several barrels containing laser rifles lining the stone wall. He placed his laser rifle in a barrel.

Roger heard movement behind and turned to see his daughter Catherine running down the tunnel toward him. She was tall and slim but not the least bit lanky, with fiery-orange hair, and a sprinkling of freckles on the bridge of her nose. Her huge, olive-green eyes sparkled when she was happy, but seemed to shoot bolts of lightning when she was angry, which was not so infrequent an event, especially of late, with the gihox in the area. She was a firebrand, just like her mother had been, and she had the spirit of a fighter, and had many times voiced her desire to go out and face the gihox.

''She is awake, dad,'' Catherine said.

Roger, knowing who she was referring to, motioned for her to lead on, as they exited the chamber and entered another, with a bed against one wall. On that bed lay a young woman, about the same age as Catherine, with brown skin, blue hair and blue lightning bolt markings on her face. Her amber colored eyes were open now, for the first time in several weeks, and they darted about wildly, as if searching for an escape route.

''We are not going to hurt you,'' Roger said unthreateningly.