The multiple award-winning Lodestone series returns in an all-action third instalment.
Having finally secured the four components of Annata’s ancient device, ten Kelanni, together with the enigmatic Chandara Boxx, set sail for the Island of Helice in order to neutralize the human weapon designed to eradicate the planet’s indigenous life and to give them control over lodestone—the most powerful substance in the universe.
After fending off an attack from an immense sea creature, the party is attacked by human flying machines. Shann and Rael, two of the four component carriers, are lost somewhere on the island, their fate unknown.
Will the Kelanni be able to reach the human weapon and disarm it? With time against them, they must battle to overcome internal conflicts and along the way uncover shocking new truths about themselves; about their enemies, the humans; and about the strange creature Boxx, whose ultimate purpose yet remains a mystery.
(Excerpt) Boom. An eerie silence followed, broken finally by ragged yells
and jagged screams, as black smoke began billowing over the rooftops
from one street over. The boy stared wide-eyed at the curdling cloud.
McCann jumped down from the cart and flinched as a silver streak
flashed low overhead, its twin fans emitting a high-pitched shriek.
Yaron still sat on the buckboard, transfixed by the sudden
apparition. McCann reached up and grabbed the young Kelanni by the
collar, half-dragging him out of his seat and down to the ground. "We
have to get out of here. Now."
"Avionics," Yaron said, stupidly. "They're firin' at us."
"That's right." McCann cast about, trying to get his bearings.
"Our avionics aren' fitted wi' weapons."
"No. But ours are."
"You mean 'u-mans. But... they're na supposed t' have avionics.
They're na even supposed t' leave their island."
"It's a closely guarded secret," McCann's mouth twisted. "Or at
least it was until thirty seconds ago." He could hear multiple engine
drones now, coupled with the sound of distant firing. The air was
charged with panic. People running. Frenzied shouts.
Up ahead, a phaeton floated towards them, humming quietly as
curious occupants stuck their heads out the windows and observed the
rising palls of smoke as if they were a new tourist attraction. He wanted to
flag the driver down--to yell at him to get himself and his passengers off
the street--but he was still a human operating under cover in an alien burg.
He could not afford to attract attention to himself.
The whining grew in pitch once more and another silver dart
appeared over the rooftops. Its nose dipped and it hovered for a
moment, so that McCann fancied he could almost see the outline of the
pilot. Then, a puff of smoke and a brief flash erupted from the
machine's port side. McCann had just enough time to shove Yaron to
the ground and hurl himself on top of the boy before the opposite side
of the street disintegrated.
He squeezed his eyes shut as dirt and debris rained down on the
two of them. The eerie silence returned, except this time it was all
around him, blotting out sound. Slowly he realised that his ears were
ringing. The body beneath him stirred. He raised himself gingerly. Dust
hung in the air and clawed at the back of his throat. He gagged and fell
into a paroxysm of coughing. The sound was muffled, as if someone
had stuffed his ears with cotton wool.
The alien boy raised a dust-covered face, looking like a character out of
an ancient Bela Lugosi film. "Are you all right?" McCann asked, in a voice
that sounded like it belonged to someone else.
The boy knuckled an eye and nodded. McCann got to his feet, scratched
his head, and looked around him. The street. The store fronts--what was left
of them. His clothes. The sky. The world. All suddenly transformed into
monochrome. He was Buster Keaton in that tornado scene after the building
fell on him. Only this wasn't a movie. And no one was laughing. (Continued)
Having finally secured the four components of Annata’s ancient device, ten Kelanni, together with the enigmatic Chandara Boxx, set sail for the Island of Helice in order to neutralize the human weapon designed to eradicate the planet’s indigenous life and to give them control over lodestone—the most powerful substance in the universe.
After fending off an attack from an immense sea creature, the party is attacked by human flying machines. Shann and Rael, two of the four component carriers, are lost somewhere on the island, their fate unknown.
Will the Kelanni be able to reach the human weapon and disarm it? With time against them, they must battle to overcome internal conflicts and along the way uncover shocking new truths about themselves; about their enemies, the humans; and about the strange creature Boxx, whose ultimate purpose yet remains a mystery.
(Excerpt) Boom. An eerie silence followed, broken finally by ragged yells
and jagged screams, as black smoke began billowing over the rooftops
from one street over. The boy stared wide-eyed at the curdling cloud.
McCann jumped down from the cart and flinched as a silver streak
flashed low overhead, its twin fans emitting a high-pitched shriek.
Yaron still sat on the buckboard, transfixed by the sudden
apparition. McCann reached up and grabbed the young Kelanni by the
collar, half-dragging him out of his seat and down to the ground. "We
have to get out of here. Now."
"Avionics," Yaron said, stupidly. "They're firin' at us."
"That's right." McCann cast about, trying to get his bearings.
"Our avionics aren' fitted wi' weapons."
"No. But ours are."
"You mean 'u-mans. But... they're na supposed t' have avionics.
They're na even supposed t' leave their island."
"It's a closely guarded secret," McCann's mouth twisted. "Or at
least it was until thirty seconds ago." He could hear multiple engine
drones now, coupled with the sound of distant firing. The air was
charged with panic. People running. Frenzied shouts.
Up ahead, a phaeton floated towards them, humming quietly as
curious occupants stuck their heads out the windows and observed the
rising palls of smoke as if they were a new tourist attraction. He wanted to
flag the driver down--to yell at him to get himself and his passengers off
the street--but he was still a human operating under cover in an alien burg.
He could not afford to attract attention to himself.
The whining grew in pitch once more and another silver dart
appeared over the rooftops. Its nose dipped and it hovered for a
moment, so that McCann fancied he could almost see the outline of the
pilot. Then, a puff of smoke and a brief flash erupted from the
machine's port side. McCann had just enough time to shove Yaron to
the ground and hurl himself on top of the boy before the opposite side
of the street disintegrated.
He squeezed his eyes shut as dirt and debris rained down on the
two of them. The eerie silence returned, except this time it was all
around him, blotting out sound. Slowly he realised that his ears were
ringing. The body beneath him stirred. He raised himself gingerly. Dust
hung in the air and clawed at the back of his throat. He gagged and fell
into a paroxysm of coughing. The sound was muffled, as if someone
had stuffed his ears with cotton wool.
The alien boy raised a dust-covered face, looking like a character out of
an ancient Bela Lugosi film. "Are you all right?" McCann asked, in a voice
that sounded like it belonged to someone else.
The boy knuckled an eye and nodded. McCann got to his feet, scratched
his head, and looked around him. The street. The store fronts--what was left
of them. His clothes. The sky. The world. All suddenly transformed into
monochrome. He was Buster Keaton in that tornado scene after the building
fell on him. Only this wasn't a movie. And no one was laughing. (Continued)