Kaavl Conspiracy Read online

  Framed…

  When eighteen-year-old Methusal Maahr is framed for the murder of her oldest friend, she will do anything to expose the true killer and clear her name, including team up with her arch rival in the Kaavl Games, Behran. But all clues point to her guilt…and appear to tie into a conspiracy regarding the new peace talks with their oldest enemies from Dehre.

  While peace looms on the horizon, Methusal doesn’t trust it. Mentàll Solboshn, Chief of Dehre, is not what he appears to be. Her determination to discover the truth soon pits her against the formidable Chief. Not only is he the best kaavl player in the land, but he is determined that the peace plan will pass. Can Methusal’s rare kaavl skills possibly outmatch him, and stop him from succeeding with his devious plans?

  Methusal is ready and willing to do anything to protect her community of Rolban—even put her own life on the line to expose and defeat a dangerous political foe. But little does she realize the true danger may lie within her own community…

  Kaavl Chronicles

  (Book One of Quadrilogy)

  Kaavl

  Conspiracy

  Jennette Green

  

  Diamond Press

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Kaavl Conspiracy

  A Diamond Press book / published in arrangement with the author

  Copyright © 2016 by Jennette Green

  Cover design Copyright 2016 © by Diamond Press

  All rights reserved.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission. NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION® and NIV® are registered trademarks of Biblica, Inc.

  ISBN: 978-1-62964-012-9

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2016904289

  Library of Congress Subject Headings:

  Paranormal—Juvenile fiction

  Paranormal romance—Juvenile fiction

  Courage—Fiction

  Individuality—Fiction

  Sisters—Fiction

  Families—Fiction

  Paranormal—Fiction

  Fantasy fiction

  Young adult fiction

  Diamond Press

  3400 Pegasus Drive

  P.O. Box 80043

  Bakersfield CA 93380-0043

  www.diamondpresspublishing.com

  Published in the United States of America.

  To my friends, who have always encouraged me.

  You know who you are.

  Also by Jennette Green

  Romance Novels

  The Commander’s Desire

  Her Reluctant Bodyguard

  Ice Baron

  The Pirate’s Desire

  Young Adult/New Adult

  Kaavl Conspiracy

  (Paranormal, Book 1 of Quadrilogy)

  Beyond the Rapture

  (Christian Apocalyptic)

  Castaways

  (a novelette)

  Shorter Works

  Toot of Fruit

  (a children’s story)

  Murder by Nightmare

  (a novelette)

  Map

  

  Pronunciation Guide

  Kaavl (Kah’ vl)

  Kaavl levels (from highest to lowest):

  Ultimate level (only Mahre ever achieved)

  Primary level

  Bi-level

  Tri-level

  Quatr-level (Kwah’ tra level)

  Quint-level (Kint level)

  Places

  Aestoff (Ay’ stoff)

  Carachki (Ka ra’ chki) capitol of Zindedi

  Dehre (Deh’ ree)

  Dehrien (Deh’ ree un)

  Koblan (Koe’ blun)

  Koblani (Koe blane’ ee)

  Rolban (Role bane’)

  Rolbani (Role bane’ ee)

  Quasr (Kay’ zer)

  Quasrian (Kay zar’ ee un)

  Tarst (Tarst)

  Wyen (Why en’)

  Zindedi (Zin deh’ dee)

  Characters

  Rolban

  Aalicaa (A lee shaw’) (Aali (A’ lee)) Deccia’s sister/cousin, Methusal’s cousin, Quatr-level

  Barak Mehl (Bare’ uk Mel) Kitran’s brother

  Behran Amil (Bee’ hrhun/Beh’ rhun Uh meel’) Tri-level

  Ben Amil, Behran’s father

  Deccia (Day’ shuh) Methusal’s twin sister

  D’Wit (Duh wit’) Elderly Rolbani doctor, Petr’s political advisor

  Erl (Earl) Methusal’s father

  Goric (Gor’ ik) Tri-level

  Hanuh (Han’ nah) Methusal’s mother

  Kitran Mehl (Kih’ trun Mel) Barak’s brother, Primary level

  Liem (Lee’ um) Renn’s father, Chief contender

  Mahre (Mah’ ree) The Old Kaavl Master

  Matron Olgith (Ol’ gith) Petr’s aunt

  Maxmil Verdnt (Vernt) Bi-level

  Methusal Maahr (Meth u’ zul Mare) Tri-level

  Motr (Moe’ tr) In charge of water systems, Behran’s boss

  Petr (Pet’ r) Deccia and Aali’s father, Bi-Level

  Pogul (Poe’ gull)

  Poli Amil (Pol’ ee Uh meel’) Behran’s mother

  Renn (Liem’s son)

  Sims Nalg (Sims Nalg) Supply room supervisor

  Timaeus (Tim’ ay us)

  Vogl (Voe’ gl)

  Dehre

  Hendra (Hen’ druh) Quatr-level

  Jascr (Jas’ kr) Bi-level

  Mentàll Solboshn (Mn tall’ Sole’ bah shn) Chief of Dehre, Primary level

  Wortn (Wor’ tn) Dehrien, Tri-level

  Tarst

  Aenill (Uh neel’) Pan’s wife

  Dastn (Das’ tn)

  Pan Patn (Pan Pat’ tn) Tarst Chief, Primary level

  Zindedi

  General Greisn Rohasch (Gree’ shun Ro’ hash) (brother of Zindedi Presidente)

  Presidente of Zindedi

  Prologue

  CARACHKI

  CAPITOL OF THE ZINDEDI CONTINENT

  Sixthday

  THE PRESIDENTE OF ZINDEDI fingered the sharp edge of his sword, and smiled as the blade caught his skin. Red bubbled up. War. He loved the taste of it. He loved the smell of it.

  Hadn’t he unified his continent with one ruthless, bloody stroke? Now the entire continent of Koblan would fall, too.

  A hard knock sounded on the wooden door of his office. “Presidente.”

  “Enter, General.” The Presidente smiled as a stocky man strode into the room. “Brother. Sit.” He plucked a plump red fruit from a bowl and turned it in his hand.

  General Greisn Rohasch smiled, and his teeth gleamed a pale yellow beneath his mustache. His black General’s cap fit tightly on his spiky black and silver hair, and his amber eyes, which were set in his square, florid face, appeared a bit unfocused, as usual. “Presidente. You have a report?”

  “Yes.” Thoughtfully, the Presidente stroked the fruit over the blade. “Hatred is stirred. Vengeance is sought. Soon the village of Rolban will fall t
o her enemies, as we have long planned.”

  “And the ore?” General Greisn’s voice sharpened. “It will be ours?”

  “Ripe for you to pluck. Only a few more weeks until the fruit is ready for harvest.” The President tossed a dull, silver lump of metal to the General, who caught it with whip-like swiftness. “A specimen.”

  The General turned it over in his thick fingers. “Nearly perfect.”

  “Yes.” The Presidente smiled. “And victory is assured.”

  “What about Koblan’s kaavl?” General Greisn’s soft-jowled smile disguised his well-known core of cruelty.

  The Presidente snorted. “Mind games cannot win wars. Neither will Koblan’s crude weapons. I warned the spy to focus on his job. Not kaavl. Soon we will bring the Koblan continent to her knees.” He stroked the fruit over the blade again, and smiled. “It will be as simple as taking a toy from a child. They are ignorant of our existence. I might pity them, if they were not so stupid.”

  The fruit’s skin split, and red juice ran down the Presidente’s skin.

  The General giggled, and his eyes gleamed amber, like the fires of hell. “I am ready to lead the charge.” Spittle formed at the corners of his mouth. “I anticipate plucking their ripest fruit.”

  “Patience, my brother. All in good time. Rolban must first fall, and the three communities become weakened. And then we will invade the Koblan continent.” The Presidente bit into the sweet delicacy. “Raping ore from that fertile land will be a pleasure. And the fruit of her womb will deliver to us the world.”

  * * * * *

  ROLBAN

  KOBLAN CONTINENT

  Same day

  THE VELVET NIGHT CLOAKED RENN. Only his harsh, unsteady breathing broke the silence. His moccasined toes curled deep into the soft earth of the crop plateau.

  He stood only a step from the edge. Far below, the cliff crashed into a jumble of rocks, and then the plains stretched on, black beneath the star-pierced sky. Running to eternity.

  Why had Methusal asked to meet him here?

  Renn’s trembling fingers clenched around the cold metal object in his pocket; the proof he’d risked his life to find. A parchment crinkled next to it.

  He had to warn the others, and soon. Unfortunately, he knew the identity of the traitor, but little else. What was the traitor’s mission? What else did he plan to steal from Rolban, and why?

  Methusal’s necklace was the key.

  A cool breeze kissed his cheek and he breathed greedily, trying to calm the nervous gallop of his heart.

  Surely Methusal wasn’t involved with the traitor.

  Why hadn’t she arrived yet?

  Releasing the heavy object, he pushed a shaky palm across his brow. The thefts from the supply room hadn’t seemed like much, at first—only a hint something was wrong. The stolen ore was another matter.

  Now he knew the threat ran deep, and originated in a foreign land—Zindedi. A land far from the Koblan continent’s shores. And no one knew this but him. And the traitor. And possibly Methusal. He believed he could trust her. He hoped he wasn’t wrong.

  It was dangerous out here. His gaze slid to the plain floor. The wild beasts were out, but that didn’t explain the apprehension licking through him.

  Scuff.

  Footsteps whispered over the earth. He jerked around, his shoulders rigid, and heart pounding.

  A dark form stalked toward him. It wasn’t Methusal. It was a man. A big one.

  No. How had he found out?

  Renn’s eyes darted, seeking a way to escape.

  “It is time we talked.” The familiar voice was a hiss.

  “Where’s Methusal?” To his disgust, his voice trembled.

  “She didn’t receive your note. I followed you and stole it.”

  “But…” Bewildered, Renn uncurled his fist. Pale parchment glowed in the starlight.

  “Give it.” The dark form grabbed his wrist and ripped the paper from his fist.

  Horror crept through him. “She never got my note?”

  “Soon, she will.” Another soft chuckle. “An edited version, anyway. And this note,” he crumpled it in his fist, “is one I wrote.”

  The traitor had written the note that Renn had received. Not Methusal. The hairs on his neck rose, like the hackles of an apte beast.

  A knife appeared in the traitor’s hand and glinted in the feeble starlight.

  Renn choked back a terrified cry. He’d always been so careful, and so neat and logical in everything he did. But he had never foreseen this. Never. He couldn’t seem to think clearly. “I know what you’ve been doing!”

  “You know nothing.”

  “You’ve been stealing.”

  “A few pots. A few skins,” the soft voice scoffed. “And…oh, yes.” The black form stepped closer, knife glinting inches from Renn’s throat. “Give back what you stole from me.”

  “You’re the thief.”

  “Give me the ore.”

  “Leave me alone.” His chest felt tight, clamped by fear.

  “Sorry. You know too much.”

  “I know nothing!”

  “You know who I am. You found the ore. And the letter to my Presidente. Can’t allow that.”

  “I won’t tell!” Backing up, Renn’s heel hit solid rock. It was the lip of the cliff, a handbreadth from the edge. His brain felt fogged. He needed to escape. But how?

  “The ore.” The voice sounded cold, now. Determined. “I’ll give you an exchange for it.”

  “Exchange?” Would he be allowed to live, after all?

  “Now.”

  Renn pulled the chunk of metal from his pocket and thrust it at the other man. A pale smile glimmered through the darkness, and then a smooth, flat rectangle with cut surfaces jabbed into his palm. His heart hammered. “Where did you find this? You’ve been in my compartment!” Since he wanted his hands free again, he quickly shoved it into his pocket.

  “As you have been sneaking through mine. Did you find your answers?”

  Why hadn’t he been more careful? Renn’s eyes darted left and right. He needed to buy time—finally, a rational thought. “Tell me then…why? What’s this all about?”

  A chuckle hissed. “Power, ore…and so much more. And kaavl is the key.”

  “Key? Key to what?” But he was no longer listening. He was ready to make his move.

  “Everything.”

  “Traitor!” With a snarl, Renn lunged to the right, but out of the corner of his eye the knife slashed through the inky black. Pain ripped into his neck. And then the dark form pushed him, hard.

  His heel tripped over the stone lip, and wind rushed by his ears, soaring with his unending terror. Falling…falling.

  And then nothing. Blessed darkness.

  Chapter One

  ROLBAN

  KOBLAN CONTINENT

  Seventhday

  TAGMA LEAVES WHISPERED, and Methusal Maahr quickly swiveled her head, her heart pounding.

  Nothing.

  A cool breeze swept the small, sun-kissed plateau. It was still light outside, and too early for the dangerous wild beasts to creep from their caves. All the same, she sharpened her senses. Kaavl would help her spot the beasts before they charged within attacking range.

  Concentrating hard, she stared at the far bluffs, which were stamped in black against the pale blue, eastern horizon. Where were the flying beasts now?

  There! Eyes sharpened by the rigid practice of kaavl discriminated the outline of black wings against the black bluffs.

  Bluffs. Renn had fallen to his death from a cliff last night.

  Tears stung her eyes. This morning a runner had discovered the remains of Renn’s mangled body at the base of Rolban’s nearest cliff. Wild beasts had licked half of his bones clean. His death had shocked the community. It had devastated her.

  What had happened? Why had he visited the crop plateau last night?

  His funeral this morning had been surreal. To Methusal, it had felt like the memorial service had
happened much too quickly, but funerals always took place immediately in Rolban. In the past, disease outbreaks had been a problem, and so the community had passed a law requiring that the dead be buried as quickly as possible.

  At the gravesite Renn’s only living parent, Liem, had stood as still as a stone, his features blank.

  Grief still felt like claws shredding Methusal’s soul.

  Stop it. Concentrate. He’d want it that way.

  Renn had been pragmatic. A careful thinker, with unexpected flashes of wit. They’d been good friends for their entire lives.

  She let the hot tears fall. Surely he was in a better place now. He wouldn’t want her to cry over him, either. If he was here, he’d probably say, “Life goes on, Thusa.” Then he’d smile. “Remember that baby whip I hid in your jacket? Almost bit your finger off. Count your blessings I’m gone.”

  Methusal swallowed against the ache in her throat. Kaavl. Kaavl would deliver her from the grief. For a while. Maybe running would help, too.

  She climbed down the rocky hillside, fiercely trying to concentrate into a kaavl state of mind. Soon she’d be ready for the Kaavl Games, which would take place in a few days.

  Even better, she’d soon deliver an unpleasant surprise to her arch rival.

  As she focused, Methusal became kaavl; intensely aware of the late afternoon sun toasting her skin, and the sharp stones biting into her thin, multi-patched moccasins. Tall, thick tagma bushes dotted the plain, networked by thick gnarled roots that rippled across the surface of the flat, dry brown earth. A whisper of movement tickled her ears, and dry leaves rustled.

  A whip beast was stalking a round, furry apte. Muted gasping noises interrupted the peaceful quiet.