Leilu: Dimensions Origins Book 1 Read online

  Leilu

  Dimensions Origins

  Book 1

  Seven Steps

  Copyright ©2016 by Seven Steps

  All rights reserved by the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, or persons, living or dead, is wholly coincidental.

  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, recording, by information storage and retrieval or photocopied, without permission in writing from Seven Steps.

  Edited by Genevieve Scholl

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  Interior book design by Seven Steps

  Proudly Published in the United States of America

  Also by Seven Steps

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  The Martian King: Venus Rising Book 3

  Night of the Broken Moon (A Venus Rising Companion Short Stories)

  The Escape (A Venus Rising Prequel)

  Time Bomb – Dimensions Book 1

  Free Fall – Dimensions Book 2

  Leilu – Dimensions Origins Book 1

  Phineas – Dimensions Origins Book 2

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  Before I Wake

  Awaken

  Contemporary Romance

  The Last Rock King

  Peace in the Storm

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  Leilu

  Dimensions Origins

  Book 1

  CHAPTER 1

  Leilu Karis knelt by her father’s grave. There was no grief or remorse in her heart.

  After sixteen years of heaping every sort of mental, verbal, and physical abuse upon his only daughter, Kalor Karis finally keeled over in his favorite chair ten minutes before his normal bedtime with a mouth full of liquor and a belly full of rat poison.

  Leilu thought of that fateful morning two weeks prior. He hit me. It was only right.

  The smell of oil sat comfortably in her nostrils. Oil and decay and rot. The smell soothed her. It meant that her father’s body was turning into the black gunk that would eventually seep through the soil and run off into the small body of black water that surrounded the burial ground.

  A death lake.

  She smiled at the thought.

  Good riddance.

  She spread a dirty blanket onto the grass and sighed.

  Over four hundred years ago, a small group of settlers left behind a technologically advanced planet and came to Gof, an uninhabited wasteland that had been terra formed during the Great Expansion and left to rot in the vastness of the universe. The settlers never discussed why they left their home planet, and, apparently, no one ever asked. The settlers did, however, record a strict list of rules and regulations on how to live, the roles of men and women, how to dress, and how to worship. Rules that were strictly enforced down to Leilu’s day. Somewhere, buried under the desert sands, was the ship the settlers arrived in. The sole piece of tech on Gof.

  Three stars twinkled in the night sky. In a few more hours, that number would be reduced to one star, and then it would be time for The festival of the Rising Sun. A celebration of the bright yellow orb’s return to the sky after a six month long hibernation.

  In her mind’s eye, Leilu saw the hordes of people who, no doubt, had began to assemble in the dusty, desert valley to await the moment when the sunshine would touch their faces. Even now she felt its warm rays on her skin. She touched one hand to her cheek, and imagined that it wasn’t her own.

  After a lifetime of abuse and neglect by the two people who were supposed to love her the most, Leilu finally had the chance at a normal life with a normal man. Only, there weren’t any normal men there. She was surrounded by men like her father. Hyper macho and free with their discipline. Men who thought of their wives and daughters as slaves. Things to be owned, possessed, and corrected.

  Maybe that’s why mother left, Leilu thought. Maybe she ran away to be with someone who truly loved her. Maybe she has another family? A warm home with a fireplace, and plenty of clothes and hugs and soup. Things she couldn't have in Daddy's house.

  Lonesomeness made her heart ache. She wondered if she’d ever find a home like that. One full of joy, trust, and love. Or, would she be doomed to a life like the one the rest of the women in the town had? Surviving, but barely living. Walking on egg shells. Afraid to sneeze or to upset their husbands and sons in any way. Bruised, battered, and unloved. Just waiting for their turn to die so that they could finally have peace among the oil and rocks. That was what they said when they passed each other in the street, wasn’t it? With despondent eyes and sad smiles, they’d nod at each other.

  “The lake find you yet?” they would ask in soft voices.

  “Not yet, but it’s a’comin’.”

  She spat on the ground, pulled her knees up to her chest, and rocked. Just the thought of it made her lungs tight.

  No. Not me. Not ever.

  She picked up one of the rocks that lined her father’s grave and turned it over in her hand. It was black and shiny, as if the oil from the lake had infused it somehow.

  Is this a piece of somebody? An arm? A foot? An eyeball?

  The rock was oddly rough, and made little fissures in her fingertips and palms as she rolled it around.

  Who were you, Mr. Rock? Were you a good person or a bad one? Light or dark?

  She rolled it in her palm for a second more, imprinting the jagged edges into her memory before rearing her arm back and throwing it as far as she could.

  Goodbye, Mr. Rock.

  She heard it clang against the building pile of stones near the line of dead trees that surrounded the grave site. Fourteen, to be precise. She’d thrown one of them each night since they laid her father there.

  Footsteps sounded from her left. Someone was coming. Marching through the woods that grew on the far side of the graveyard. She heard the crunch as they stepped over dead leaves and twigs.

  Who could it be?

  Most people were either home readying themselves for the festival, or heading toward the Valley. She hadn’t seen another living soul in hours except the grave keeper, and it was still up to debate whether he was living or not. She saw his thin white hair, his slight build, and his translucent skin that hung from him like an oversized coat. He was a quiet man, adding to the mystery that surrounded him.

  The footsteps were closer now.

  Was it the grave keeper? Or was it someone else? Someone who’d know she’d be there alone? Someone w
ho wanted to do terrible things to her?

  As quickly as she could, she gathered her blanket and climbed to her feet when, just as quickly as they had started, the footsteps stopped.

  She looked to her left, then to her right. There was no one there.

  Odd. Did I imagine it?

  Slowly, she dropped her blanket back to the ground and tiptoed to the tree line. Her heart picked up a hard rhythm in her chest. What would she find beyond the trees? Danger? A friend? A foe?

  She peered through the long dead, brown foliage. There, on the other side of the thistles and thorns, stood a boy. His blond hair flowed over his broad shoulders, every strand reflecting the tiny bit of starlight that rained down upon them. She’d never seen hair like that before; all golden and beautiful like rays of sunshine. She longed to run her hand through that hair. To feel its soft strands.

  The idea made her frown. She’d never wanted to touch anyone’s hair before. Then again, no one had hair like that boy.

  Who is it?

  She snuck a bit closer. He looked to be about her age. With a lean build and black rimmed glasses.

  Handsome.

  Another new thought. She’d been around many boys in school and had never thought any of them handsome. They were all rough and dirty and spat when they talked. An imitation of their fathers. But that boy was clean. The only dirt on him clung to his shoes.

  He didn’t seem to notice that she was there, instead choosing to start at the oily lake.

  What is he doing?

  Sometimes, people went there to stare at the lake and remember the dead, but the boy didn’t seem to be doing that. He pulled a small glass vial from his pocket, dipped it into the mire, brought it to his nose, and took a long, deep sniff.

  Is he going to drink it? she wondered, the thought turning her stomach.

  “What are you doing?”

  The sound of her own voice shocked her. She didn’t intend to say anything to the boy. It just came out. Her father always said that her mouth would get her into trouble. She inwardly cursed and took a small step back.

  The boy continued to stare at the now blackened vial in his hand, still not noticing her.

  I should run, she thought. I should get help. He’s obviously an outsider. A crazy outsider.

  But there was something about him. Maybe it was the wonder with which he stared at the vial. Or perhaps it was how innocent he looked in his glasses. Some part of her was drawn to him. And so, she took a step forward and took a deep breath, determined to be heard this time.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  The boy jumped, nearly dropping his vial in the process. He stared at her, his innocent blue eyes wide behind his glasses.

  He has the most beautiful eyes.

  “Are you lost?” she asked.

  “No.” The word came out breathless. More breathless than it should have been, seeing as how he was just standing there.

  “Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”

  His eyes darted right, then left. Seeing that they were alone, he stood up a little straighter. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen, and stood a head taller than her. She felt her heart do a little flip, and her hands shook slightly.

  My, he is beautiful.

  “My name is Phin,” he replied. “I’m nobody.”

  “What were you doing in the mud?” she asked.

  His eyes darted again, and he didn’t look at her when he said, “Looking for something.”

  She saw the lies like foggy breath on a cold night. The boy was up to no good.

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she set on him a hard look. One she’d seen mothers use when they knew their children were lying. The boy squirmed beneath it, and she inwardly smiled.

  “Where are you from?” she asked. “I’ve never seen you around here before.”

  “I’m from...” He looked around himself as if struggling to figure out from which tree he would pluck the next lie from. “I am from over there.” He pointed to a knot of trees across the lake.

  She raised an eyebrow and looked at him incredulously.

  “You’re from the trees?”

  He vigorously nodded his head. “Yes,” he said. “I’m from the trees.”

  “So why were you digging in the oil?”

  He looked around again, not wanting to meet her gaze.

  “I needed it.”

  “For what?”

  “To study.”

  “Study? Like, in school?”

  “Yes.” He reached one finger up and pushed his glasses further up his nose. “I’m a scientist.”

  She snorted. “You’re young to be a scientist, aren’t you?”

  He shrugged, carefully placing the vial in his pants pocket. “Maybe.”

  “Well, Mr. Tree Scientist, I don’t believe you. Now you stay right here while I get the grave keeper.”

  “No.” He was instantly upon her, grabbing her arm before she could bolt away.

  His hold wasn’t rough, but it was tight enough so that she couldn’t pull away. She looked from his hand on her arm to his eyes with a frown.

  “Let go of me,” she growled.

  “Look: I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted a sample.”

  “I don’t care what you wanted. Let me go.”

  “If I do, will you promise not to tell the grave keeper that I’m here?”

  He was close now, his breath minty and fresh. A masculine scent rose from his clothes, and she fought the inclination to take a deep sniff of it.

  “Or, are you curious?” he whispered.

  The air between them crackled with electricity as they stared at each other. He dipped his head, stooping a bit so as to look her directly in the eye. The air around her turned thick, and her lungs struggled to suck in her next breath.

  “Curious?” she stuttered.

  He nodded. “I’ll make you a deal. If you can promise to keep a secret, I will show you where I’ve come from. But you must promise not to tell anyone.”

  He’d loosened his grip on her arm, but she didn’t run away. Her feet were rooted to the floor, her eyes wide, her soul wanting. With great effort, she kept her gaze on his eyes, though her baser instincts yearned to see the shape of his lips.

  “Why trust me?” she asked, her voice coming out choked. “You don’t even know me.”

  He didn’t respond at first. His eyes dropped from her eyes, to her lips, then back again. He chuckled to himself, and took a step back, finally allowing her room to breathe.

  “You’re right,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t know you. I don’t know what I’m saying.” He threw his hands in the air and turned his back on her. “I’ll go now. You can tell the grave keeper if you want. I won’t come here again.”

  The thought of never seeing him again caused little tears in her heart. She barely knew the boy, but she wanted to see him again. To smell his fresh scent. To look in to his innocent eyes. Even if it was for a little while.

  Against her better judgement, she jogged to catch up with him.

  “Wait,” she said, finally stopping her jog to match his gait.

  “I thought you were going to tell the grave keeper I was here.”

  “I was,” she said. “I mean, I am. But, I guess, if you’re not coming back, it won’t make a difference. I mean, if you want to show me the … uh … where you’re from.”

  He stopped walking and looked at her, an amused grin on his face. She immediately shut her mouth to prevent further stammering.

  “Just like I thought,” he said. “Curious.”

  He held out his hand and waited for her to take it.

  She did, and was immediately rewarded with heat that traveled up her arm. His hand was smooth and large, engulfing her smaller one. Usually, when men touched her, she felt dirty and used, but, with Phin, she didn’t mind so much. In fact, she liked it.

  He led her deeper into the bare woods. She knew she should have been afraid, but, somehow, she
wasn’t. Phin’s presence next to her made her feel safe, as if she’d known him all of her life and not just a few minutes.

  “How long have you been a scientist?” she asked.

  “Most of my life,” he replied, swinging their arms between them. She liked it. The movement had a sweetness to it. “I remember growing up and mixing things together and taking things apart. My father is a scientist, as was his father before him. I guess it’s in my blood.”

  “What do you study?”

  “Fuel, mostly.”

  “Fuel? Like gasoline?”

  He nodded. “A bit more advanced than that, but yes. Mostly, where to find fuel, how to collect it, optimize it, distribute it.”

  “Sounds complicated.”

  “Somewhat, yes, but there’s a beauty to it, too. It interests me. One day, I hope to find a fuel source that can power an entire galaxy. Something that is powerful and clean, and that will never run out. There’s a need for that you know.” He pointed upward with a sly smile. “Up there.”

  “Is that where you’re from?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Way, way up there.”

  “And how did you get down here?”

  He shrugged. “I jumped.”

  She thought about the odd comment. He jumped from the sky? Her mind told her that it was another one of the boy’s lies, but something in the boy’s eyes told her that it wasn’t. The cloak of lies had been lifted from his shoulders somewhere between the lake and the dark forest.

  How can somebody jump from the sky?

  “So, what’s it like down here?” he asked. “I’ve never talked to someone from … uh … around here before.”

  She looked at him for a moment.

  What an odd boy.

  She shrugged and played along.

  “Oh. It’s nothing to talk about, really.”

  “I want to know. I want to know about you. What do you do here? Do you have a family? Do you like it down here?”

  She stared at him. No boy had ever wanted to know anything about her. Yes, they spoke to her, but mostly to ask for things from her. Not to get to know her.