“Kerris,” she whispered, abandoning her book, and going to the kitchen. She didn’t feel as hot as she did an hour ago, but now she felt sick to her stomach.
There was a mirror on the bookcase and Liza stared at her reflection. It was fuzzy at first, but the image resolved. She was dressed prim and proper in red and white striped dress, just like the one she’d worn when she was five, the day the Praet kidnapped her from her parents’ home. Her ginger hair was in a tidy up-do, bright colored ribbons framing her face. She’d had this dream before. It was the last meal she’d shared with her mother, and it ended in nightmare. She couldn’t watch her parents get slaughtered again, but if she could control the dream, she could spend one more hour with her mother.
Bracing herself, Liza rounded the bend to the kitchen. She tried to pass through the doorway, but she couldn’t. It felt like someone was holding her back, pinning her arms. The nightmare was starting too soon if she was already in chains.
The timer sounded, and Amanda appeared in the kitchen, pulling a pan of cookies from the oven. She wore a dark green pencil dress with a pale green waistband. The colors perfectly accented her green eyes. There was no hint of the dark dragon or the paranoia of a schizophrenic fit.
“This dress you put me in. I know where I should be, but that’s not where we are. You’re ruining the memory,” Liza said, carrying the mirror into the kitchen, studying her reflection. She wore her mother’s necklace—a gold chain with a clover-leaf pendant that she’d always begged for when she played dress-up and had never been allowed to touch.
“I didn’t put you in a dress,” Amanda said. “That would be mean. No one wears dresses on Terrana.”
“Terrana?” Liza repeated.
“The gray moon,” Amanda explained. “Jump. You’ll feel the difference in gravity. I get confused in your gravity.”
“I didn’t realize you had the power to choose the memory you pulled me into.”
“I don’t. I invited you. You chose to come.” Amanda smiled and handed Liza a warm, fresh sugar cookie. “Dressed like that. You dressed me like this.”
“Why did you invite me?” Liza asked, taking the cookie. A part of her felt human, but her fingers in this realm were long and spindly and the cookie broke in her hand. She tested the cookie on her tongue, expecting it to dissolve as tastelessly as the food she imagined for herself, but the cookie crumbled in her mouth making her melt with pleasure. She’d never tasted anything in the Spirit Realm before. This was a piece of paradise.
“You stole Hawk,” Amanda said. “We want him back.”
“Why? So you can use him to power your ship?” Liza said. “Is that all you think of our kind? We’re tools to do your bidding? Well, I have news for you, Amanda. I won’t let that happen. I can move all of you to a realm where you’ll never hurt anyone ever again!”
“Is that how you killed your people?” Amanda said, arranging the cookies on top of a thickly iced cake that seemed to appear on the counter.
Liza smashed the counter, knocking the cake and cookies onto the floor. “I did not kill them! I did not murder anyone!” Liza screamed.
Amanda raised a brow, then picked the cake up off the floor. It held its shape, like any illusion would. “Then where are they?” she asked calmly.
“You want to see?” Liza cried, grabbing Amanda’s arm, looking for a way to get out of the memory. “Release me from this prison.”
She dragged Amanda to the edge of the house, scratching at the illusion of the wall, releasing smoke. “You can’t hold me forever.”
“I can hold you long enough for Danny to rescue Hawk,” Amanda said.
Liza pushed Amanda to the floor and clawed at the wall until the entire kitchen dissolved into black smoke. “I thought I wanted to live among your kind, but I was wrong. Let go!”
“Release Hawk, and I will let you go,” Amanda said, drawing the smoke around herself like a cloak. She spread her hands and Liza saw a new illusion forming behind her—that of a dragon.
“You invited me. I chose to come. You do not have the power here. I do,” Liza smirked, swiping at Amanda’s illusion until she hit something real.
25
Amanda’s face smacked against the catwalk grating, deepening the already painful cut on her lip. Her fingers laced through the grating as she held herself down. She could feel Liza’s sharp talons piercing her head, drawing her back to the other realm, but she refused to go.
“You have no strength in either realm,” Liza sneered, her physical body falling on top of Amanda, crushing the breath out of her. Gasping, Amanda kicked and clawed until she could get her leg free. She had a knife strapped to her ankle. At least she used to. Danny must have taken it away again.
“Danny, help!” Amanda shrieked, curling protectively around her tender arm. She rolled toward the stairs, throwing Liza off balance. As soon as the weight was off her back, Amanda scrambled to the galley.
“Danny! Danny, where are you?” she cried, rummaging through the drawers for a weapon. Tray had reorganized—he’d moved all the sharp objects so that she couldn’t get at them. She grabbed a fry pan instead. All she needed was a little force.
But Liza hadn’t chased her.
“Please, not another episode,” she murmured. She’d been suffering hallucinations all day. Possibly longer; she didn’t know what day it was. Her clothes hadn’t changed, but they were rumpled and bloody. Going to the wall panel, she tapped the Vring.
“Danny, are you there? I need help,” she whispered. Setting the pan down, she found a rag to clean her bleeding lip. The ship moved under her feet and she fell onto the cooking island. “Danny, the ship is moving.”
“No, it’s not,” Amanda’s father laughed, reclining in a dark brown, plush chair. “Lie down. You’re just dizzy.”
“I know you’re not real,” Amanda panted, lowering herself to the floor. Real or not, lying down and not hurting herself or others was a good idea. She laid behind the island, pressing the rag to her lip. The pan rattled on the countertop, but she didn’t feel the rattle of the deck plates.
“Danny, I need help,” she whimpered, scooting against the wall in case anything fell. “Are we flying?”
“Amanda, you’re the pilot,” her father said, appearing next to her and stroking her hair. “You fly the ship.”
“Dad, I’m not even on the bridge,” Amanda said. “You’re a pilot; you fly.”
“Sweetheart, you know I can’t do that,” he said. “It’s Liza you should be worried about.”
“Liza?” Amanda repeated, feeling a wave of paranoia. “I have to stop her!”
Using the handrails to drag herself up, she found her feet. The ship was definitely moving beneath her. This wasn’t vertigo. Clambering to the bridge, she saw her father sitting in the pilot’s seat. No one real was there, but the forward console was active.
“Nolwazi, brakes! Stop the ship,” Amanda said, stumbling into the pilot’s seat, pressing the command to cut power to the engine. They were moving without engines.
“Nolwazi does not have control of the ship,” the computer replied. “Only base commands are available.”
“Then how is it moving?” Amanda asked, tugging the yoke. It jiggled, signaling that it wasn’t active. She punched the command to reactivate it, but nothing happened. Reaching across to the yoke on the captain’s side, she found it similarly loose.
“External command overrides,” Nolwazi said.
“Override the override. Give me control!” Amanda cried. They were headed for the edge of the plateau. There was at least a fifty foot drop into the tree-filled valley.
“Access granted,” Nolwazi said. The ship kept rolling toward the cliff.
“Engage thrusters,” Amanda ordered, taking the yoke.
“Insufficient fuel,” Nolwazi replied.
“I don’t need to fly. I just need to control the fall,” Amanda retorted. “Do it!”
The thrusters engaged, but it was too late. The ship rolled nose fir
st over the cliff and Amanda flew from her chair, her face smashing against the forward window.
The rain poured on Tray’s face, but he and Saskia were on the home stretch of their journey. With a hundred pounds of squash, beans, bugs, and meat they could feed five people for five days. Considering it had taken less than two days to gather the haul, it wasn’t a terrible rate of return in Tray’s book. But he was sick of trudging through the rain.
“Maybe you should stay here and I’ll rig a pulley system when I get back to the top,” Saskia suggested.
“If we find we need a second trip, we’ll do that. I’m planning to be rescued before we need that kind of infrastructure,” Tray replied. “Hoping Danny and Hawk got a signal out when the rain let up yesterday.”
His foot slipped in the mud, but Saskia caught him before he fell. Feeling dizzy, he put a hand on her shoulder.
“Rest for a minute,” Saskia said, setting her load down and unhooking her canteen from her belt. She caught some rainwater in the canteen, drank some, then offered it to him. Her hand slipped around his waist, and her head dropped to his shoulder.
“You have a fever,” he realized, feeling the heat radiate from her skin.
“I think I caught a cold walking in the rain,” she said. “Nothing a good night’s rest under a dry blanket can’t cure.”
“Well don’t give it to me!” he quipped. She lifted her head, but he hugged her close, bringing her cheek back to his chest. “I wasn’t serious. Maybe I could climb up and do the pulley thing and you can stay here and rest.”
He felt guilty holding her, because he wanted to stay with her, but he didn’t want to abandon his son or alienate his brother.
Then he heard a creak and gushing sound that didn’t match the rainstorm. “Do you hear that?”
“My ears are stopped up,” she murmured. She was sick, and he realized that if he let her rest here too much longer, she’d go to sleep. Or perhaps she was hypothermic. Was it possible to die of hypothermia by being soaked with steaming rainwater?
He looked up, and the top of the plateau seemed miles away, even though he knew they could scale it in another few hours, given the load. Then he saw a shadow peeking over the edge, and the sound of metal against mud made sense.
“That’s Oriana,” he realized. “What are they doing?’
“Move!” Saskia hollered, ripping the food pack from his back and pushing him down the plateau. They ran down the path as the ship came tumbling over the side of the plateau. Saskia dove on top of Tray, pushing him flat against the cliff face, and he felt a blast of heat against his skin, but no impact. The thrusters had fired.
“They’re flying!” Tray said, shielding his eyes from the leaves and dust kicked up by the thrusters.
“They’re falling,” Saskia said, crawling over him so that her torso protected his face. A shockwave went through the trees as the ship impacted with the ground, and Saskia grabbed his hand, dragging him to his feet before the debris settled.
“Come on. We have to find them before I lose sight of the track,” Saskia said.
“Coming,” Tray said, scrambling back up the trail.
“Leave the food!”
“Hell, no,” Tray cried, finding his scorched pack and putting it on. “We need it. They need it. I’m taking as much as I can.”
He handed her pack back to her, and she grumbled, but took it. From the side of the plateau, they could see the smoke rising where Oriana went down, but they’d lose that marker as soon as they entered the woods again.
“Danny?” Tray hollered, seeing his brother approach the side of the plateau.
Danny swayed, his lack of response indicating signs of shock that Tray was getting too good at recognizing.
“Saskia, it’s Danny!” Dropping his pack, he ran for his brother, glad when Danny started scrambling and sliding down the face of the plateau to get to him. Not bothering with the hairpins, Danny slid quickly from one level to the next, nearly sliding past Tray.
“Danny,” Tray said, catching his brother.
Danny’s lips moved but no words came out. He didn’t notice Tray; he kept trying to slide down and get to the forest.
“Danny, look at me,” Tray ordered, clamping his hands on his brother’s cheeks. “Where’s Amanda? Where’s Hawk?”
Danny blinked, shaking his head, feebly fighting to keep moving.
“Are they on the ship?” Tray asked.
Danny shook his head, but then a moment later, he nodded.
“I need a clear answer,” Tray said. “We’re sticking together. You and me. Do we climb the plateau or go into the forest to salvage the ship?”
“Oriana,” Danny panted, pointing into the woods. It was a good enough answer. Letting go of his brother, Tray watched as Danny slid down the last few hairpins on the trail without looking back.
Kerris felt Hawk’s grip tighten as they raced through the streets. Liza wasn’t at home, so Kerris headed for the bell tower. A greeter bot moved to intercept, but Kerris pushed it with his mind. Only nothing happened.
“Hawk, if you’re shielding me, I really need you to stop,” Kerris stammered, shaking his physical hands free. He pushed again. “Can you see what I’m trying to do? What did you do to me?”
Hawk narrowed his eyes, looking from Kerris to the droid.
“Kerris!” Liza shouted, leaping over the greeter bot to get to him. She jumped into his arms, her heart pounding so hard, he could feel it against his skin. “Something’s wrong with the droids.”
“With the droids? Something’s wrong with me. With my hands. Look!” he cried, sweeping his arm. The greeter bot flew sideways, slamming against the wall of the nearest building. Kerris stared at his hand. He’d gone from no power to magnified power.
“I need your help,” Liza said, grabbing his wrist. “They’re blocking the gate. They drove off Oriana.”
“Drove them off? They’re gone?” he asked, letting go of Liza, checking to make sure Hawk was still there. Hawk crouched on the ground, hands over his head, nose bleeding. “Why would the droids do that?”
“Don’t ask me!” Liza cried. “The droids follow him everywhere. Maybe they want him to stay.”
Hawk scrambled away from them, running for the gate. Kerris tried to grab him with his spirit hands, but Hawk struck back, inflicting injury as though the limbs were real.
“Ow,” Liza said, startled. “Did he just hit you?”
“He can see and strike,” Kerris confirmed, taking his sister’s hand and chasing after Hawk. The droids were lined up three deep, blocking his escape. One increased in height as Hawk approached.
“Make them move,” Hawk said, pointing to Kerris. “Please.”
“Why me? Can’t you just ask them?” Kerris challenged. “You act so innocent.”
Hawk pointed to Liza, and Kerris bristled, feeling his sister was manipulating him again, but unable to hold onto the feeling. He flexed his muscles, feeling the superhuman energy that had knocked the greeter bot into the wall, imagining himself clearing the army of droids. He pushed the first one aside, knocking it into its neighbor, but then one of the droids fired at him.
“Kerris!” Hawk cried. A drone swooped down, firing at them both, hitting Kerris’ leg.
“I told you something was wrong with the droids,” Liza said, helping Hawk drag Kerris through one of the loading docks for cover. “They’ve never attacked us before. We’re citizens.”
“Liza, you have to make yourself move. You can transport outside the Dome. You could transport to Oriana. You’ll be safe there.”
“I’m not leaving you, Kerris,” she said, giving him a hug. “Sit still. Let me heal your leg.”
Sky had only been with the Nelka for a few days, but she liked them already. They didn’t set up tents; they put breaks on their wagons and popped out the expandable sides. They were an offshoot of the Dioda tribe, blended with city dwellers from the western plains, and only in the last few years had they come back this far east, accreting m
embers from ever tribe they encountered.
The wagon swayed when Sky rolled off the mattress. Kicking off her boots and pants, she slithered back onto the bed, nestling against her bedmate for another round of lovemaking.
“What was your name again?” Sky asked the dark-skinned woman, lounging naked on the bed. The Nelka woman had blue ribbons woven into her black hair, and blue and gold-stenciled flowers around her eyes and down her torso.
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” she hummed, running her lips over Sky’s face.
Sky nestled against the woman, delighting at the gentle touch. “I haven’t decided on a name yet. Only that I want a new one.”
“Well, that is a problem isn’t it,” the woman teased, sucking on Sky’s earlobe.
“Hannity,” Sky giggled. “That’s it, right?”
“Nope,” she laughed, her hand teasing between Sky’s legs. “That’s my brother’s name. The one you rejected because you said you preferred the company of a woman.”
“Oops.” Sky bit her lip, not from embarrassment, but from the traumatic memory of being stabbed and raped in the Drava camp. Even allowing a woman’s intimate touch was difficult.
“Honor,” the woman whispered. “My name is Honor.”
“Call me Flavia,” Sky decided, taking Honor’s hand, kissing at the pulse point.
“Is that your name?”
“I’m trying it out,” Sky shrugged.
With a laugh, Honor climbed on top of her and straddled her body. The wagon rocked and they heard a commotion outside.
“Please don’t require clothes. Please don’t require clothes,” Honor whispered, crouching on the bed so that her body was prostrate over Sky’s.
“I knew I chose you for a reason,” Sky chuckled, digging her fingers into Honor’s backside, and pulling until their bodies touched.
“Damn,” Honor muttered, wrinkling her nose. “Something’s come out of Boone. This can’t be good.”
Hybrid: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 4) Page 23