by Mary Auclair
One Ilarian moved in front of the others, his gun pointed straight at Ava, his eyes cold and calculating as he stared at her. “It’s that one. Knut wants that one alive,” he said to the others, his gun still on her. “Kill the rest.”
Ionic guns lifted, power radiating from them as they aimed at the Eoks. Ava’s eyes stayed locked on Arlen. His shoulders slumped slightly and his hand clutched harder at the wound on his side. The others stood up straight, too honorable to show fear, but it showed anyway. It showed in their eyes; in the way their backs straightened, full of tension.
They were defeated and they knew it, but still, none of them moved to give her up.
Maybe that was why she did it. Because they would never have surrendered her. Because Arlen, with his fierce, broken heart, had given her something she never even knew she’d craved. An unconditional love, a love so strong it refused to let go even in the face of death.
Ava got to her feet silently, moving between the Eoks until she was at Arlen’s side. He shot her a fierce, feverish glance and ordered her to get back.
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not letting you all die for me.” She turned to the Ilarian guards as Arlen clasped a forbidding hand around her wrist.
“I’m not losing you to that monster,” Arlen growled between clenched teeth, his eyes crazed with fury. “You think I care about living if you’re lost? Nothing else matters if you’re gone.”
“You will find me.” She lifted her hand to his cheek. It was frighteningly cold because of all the blood he’d lost, and she knew he wouldn’t remain standing much longer. He was going to die from his wound—and soon—if she didn’t buy them the time they needed.
“Get Commander Arlen help.” She locked gazes with one of the Eoks. “Take the boy to doctor Yrakan, he’ll know what to do.”
Ava turned to the Ilarian guards despite Arlen still holding her wrist in a desperate grip. She moved, and Arlen resisted. The guards lifted their guns, pointing them at Arlen.
Then another deafening series of detonations filled the air, but this time, the screams that accompanied them had nothing human.
The leader of the Ilarian guards turned his head just as a monster made of chitin burst through the doorway. Creatures with six limbs crawled over the walls, the ceiling, their claws clacking on the stones like drumbeats of hell. They poured in, outnumbering the Ilarian guards five to one.
Mantrilla. Those were the Mantrilla soldiers.
The Ilarian guards shifted their focus to the attacking Mantrilla soldiers, then back to Ava, but it was already too late. All it took was a moment of distraction.
The two Eoks Arlen had freed attacked, jumping and twisting through the air in a deadly dance, slashing with their talons. Limbs dropped to the ground, splattering blood, and cries of agony echoed all around as the Mantrilla soldiers attacked in tandem. They didn’t need weapons either. Their enormous clawed legs severed the Ilarian guards like twigs.
All this happened in an instant as Arlen turned to her, his body wrapping itself around her protectively. He hunched over her one knee, his hand letting go of his wound to wrap over her head as the madness of the fight raged around them.
Ava watched in horror as a huge insect-like creature, mandibles clacking with fury, emerged through the doorway. It was ten feet tall and covered in deep blue, almost black chitin armor. A long, clawed leg reached for the leader of the Ilarian guards, wrapping around his torso like he was a tiny infant and not a seven foot tall bio-engineered super soldier. The Ilarian guard was lifted into the air as he screamed mindlessly, terror emblazoned on his face.
Mandibles snapped, severing the head clean off, then the sickening sound of bones crunching was audible among the dying shouts of what was left of the Ilarian force.
Horror filled Ava as she watched Prime Councilor Aav eat the Ilarian’s skull like it was candy, brains spilling out of her mouth, dropping unheeded to the floor.
Then, finally, there were no more Ilarian guards alive.
Prime Councilor Aav moved, stepping carelessly over the discarded Ilarian guards’ bodies. The tension hadn’t left the room as the two Eoks stood on high alert amid the half dozen Mantrilla soldiers. Ava’s relief turned to outright alarm.
They weren’t out of trouble.
“Commander Arlen.” Prime Councilor Aav’s voice was even more metallic than usual, her mandibles clacking furiously. “You have been injured.”
There was no sympathy, no sadness in the Mantrilla’s voice, only a cold assessment of the situation. Prime Councilor Aav moved in a fluid, blood-curdling motion up to where Arlen and Ava were standing, her all-black, almond-shaped eyes missing nothing.
Arlen wavered, his sapphire blue skin pale, powder blue and sickly looking. Ava moved to his side, pressing with both hands against the oozing, gaping wound. His handsome face twisted with pain, but he didn’t utter a sound.
“Arlen!” Ava tried to help him sit down, but his lips tightened and he shook his head at her, almost imperceptibly.
His pale moonlight eyes were fixed on the Prime Councilor, and as Ava followed his gaze, she understood.
Mantrilla honored strength above all else, and right now, Arlen wasn’t strong. He was weak and injured; easy prey.
“I will be fine once medical takes care of me. There is everything we need on the Eok main ship. We require no further assistance.” Arlen spoke with a strong voice, but Ava noticed the way blood was pouring, dark, almost black between her fingers as she tried desperately to stop it from spilling. This meant the liver was bleeding, and it meant certain death if he didn’t get medical help right away.
Arlen locked eyes with Prime Councilor Aav. Her black eyes slid over his body, all the way to the horrible wound at his side. Mandibles clicked excitedly and Ava was reminded that the Mantrilla Matriarch had all the reasons in the world to take her revenge on Arlen for defying her.
Panic took hold of Ava as she braced Arlen’s weight with her shoulder. He was fading, faster and faster.
“You are an asset, Commander Arlen, one I do not wish to part with.” Prime Councilor spoke with a few dry, short clicks of her mandibles, then glanced at the other Eoks, still waiting expectantly. “Take him to my personal shuttle. He will benefit from the best care possible.”
The other Eoks moved to help Arlen and Ava reluctantly let them. He was too heavy for her to move anyway.
Prime Councilor Aav turned her back to them and looked down at the bodies of the Ilarian guards. She clicked her mandibles to her soldiers, but whatever she said, Ava’s translator didn’t translate.
As she understood they were going to leave, Ava moved fast. Behind her, she heard Arlen calling her name, but she didn’t listen. She ran the few steps to the transport and picked up the listless body of the sick boy, then turned to follow the Eoks and Arlen to safety.
“We’ll take Derek with us. He’s not going to hold out much longer.” Ava moved to follow the Eoks, but the Prime Councilor stopped her, a long claw blocking her way.
“The traitors will not benefit from medical help.” Prime Councilor Aav’s voice was metallic and full of disdain as she looked down at Ava and Derek.
Ava stood in shock, the body of the boy in her arms, fever radiating through his clothing like a glow.
“Let this one die.” Prime Councilor Aav turned her back on Ava, dismissing her as easily as if she were nothing.
Anger rose inside her, fueled by her years as a little pet project to a deranged, powerful man, and all the hardship that came thereafter. She had always been an outsider, never accepted, never truly one of them.
Always outside, staring in without truly belonging.
Maybe she never would belong, but she would never stop fighting for what was right.
“No.” Ava spoke loud and clear and Prime Councilor Aav froze. “I’m not letting this child die. And I’m not leaving the wounded behind, either. I’m going to save them, save them all.”
Prime Councilor Aav turned her head one
hundred and eighty degrees, looking straight back at Ava. Those black eyes were like mirrors, reflecting Ava’s own image, only a distorted version of it. She knew that if she were capable of feelings, Prime Councilor Aav would hate her for her defiance.
“You are the hybrid who defied me in the square.” The Mantrilla turned and faced Ava again. “It stands to reason that you still don’t understand your place. The humans who rebelled against the authority of the Ring have all been condemned to death. It matters not if they make it back to the main compound alive.”
Ava’s very core trembled with horror at the way Prime Councilor Aav spoke so casually of the death of dozens of people.
“There are children in that group. Children who didn’t choose to rebel,” Ava argued despite her rising panic. “They don’t deserve to die for their parents’ mistakes.”
“It is not a matter of what they deserve.” Those two black eyes settled on Ava with purpose, but also with a sharp curiosity. A curiosity not devoid of danger. “Not punishing rebellion would weaken my position, would weaken the entire Ring’s authority. A few lives are nothing compared to that.”
Ava’s body trembled with fear as she refused to back down from her argument with Prime Councilor Aav. It was a stupid thing to do. Stupid, and more dangerous than anything she had ever done, especially now that the Mantrilla was drunk on violence and the corpse of her enemy.
“If it wasn’t for this boy’s mother, you would have never been warned that Knut had a thousand Ilarian guards still on Aveyn. Knut would have his negative particle bomb and you would lose your hold on power.” Ava spoke in an even voice, even though all she wanted to do was hide in a corner and weep. Prime Councilor Aav clicked her mandibles with displeasure in her direction, the sound threatening and controlled all at once. It made her all the more terrifying. “Derek’s mother sent you that warning. You owe a debt to her.”
Arlen cursed behind her and Prime Councilor Aav moved, advancing over Ava like a towering omen of death.
“You presume to judge my power?” Mandibles clicked inches from Ava’s face and black eyes peered down on her, cold and devoid of feeling. “You presume to tell me I owe a debt to one of these creatures?”
“Yes. Her name is Naomi and she’s probably dead right now. You owe her your Seat.” All she wanted to do was run, but Ava stood her ground, as steady as if she were set in concrete. “She betrayed everyone she cared about to save her son, because she loved him more than anything. So, yeah, you owe her to save that child.”
“Love.” Prime Councilor Aav spoke the word like she didn’t know the meaning of it. Or as though it left a bad taste in her mouth. “Your human love is nothing but a weakness with a nicer name to it.”
“You are wrong.” Ava’s voice was still steady, but she could feel her body betraying her, terror taking hold of her limbs despite her best efforts. “The Mantrilla revere strength above all else, isn’t that right?”
Ava stepped forward, ignoring Arlen’s snarl. She heard him drop to his knees behind her and it tore her heart apart, but she couldn’t back down now. Not when the Prime Councilor could decide to munch on her brains like candy. The Mantrilla’s black eyes were fixed on her and she knew she had Prime Councilor Aav’s attention.
“Humans are small and weak, you are right about that.” As Ava began to speak, terror released its grip. She was speaking with everything she had, and everything she’d ever cared about hung in the balance. She had nothing more to give. It gave her a calm kind of confidence. “We possess almost nothing. We barely clawed our way back from the brink of extinction. But we never stopped caring. We care so much that we fight even when we know we’ll lose. This is our strength. We can lose a battle, a war, be enslaved for generations, but we don’t stop caring. That doesn’t make us weak. It’s what makes humanity strong. And that’s why you have to let me save this child. His mother sacrificed her life to warn you about Knut’s negative particle bomb. It wasn’t for money, or to gain power. It was because she cared. She cared about that boy’s life more than her own. And that is strength.”
Ava stood in front of the monstrous creature as the Prime Councilor stared down at her, her mandibles clacking furiously, her black eyes revealing nothing of what went on behind that nightmarish facade.
“Take the boy with Commander Arlen and his bloodmate on my transport. They are both to receive treatments from my personal doctor.” Her metallic voice was harsh and cutting and Ava stared as if she didn’t understand her words.
The Eoks rushed toward Arlen’s slumped figure. But Prime Councilor Aav wasn’t finished with Ava yet. She leaned in, towering over her, mandibles clacking so close, Ava could see the bits of the Ilarian guard’s brains still stuck there.
“I do this because it is true that should the mother have chosen not to warn us, Knut would have been in possession of a weapon of far greater evil that I could ever be.”
The Mantrilla reached out faster than Ava’s eyes could see. A claw made of chitin wrapped behind Ava’s neck and she pulled Ava closer.
“But know this, hybrid, if you ever defy me again, I will chew on your skull.”
Prime Councilor Aav let go of Ava and she collapsed to the ground. The Mantrilla left, and somehow, someone grabbed hold of Ava. Then she was inside a transport vehicle without remembering how she got there, clutching the glass jar containing the Exo-Heart in one arm and, with the other, holding on to Arlen’s hand. She stared at the handsome face of her bloodmate, his features slack and his skin a pale powder blue.
Her hand ran over his arm, and she choked out a sob at the touch of his skin. It was cold, so cold. As the transport lifted off, Ava’s heart felt enclosed in ice.
Arlen was dying.
23
Ava
Her mind was hostage to terror as she ran breathlessly behind the gurney holding Arlen’s limp body. The Eoks, the same warriors who had been held prisoner in Facility Twenty-One, held the gurney carrying Arlen, hurtling down long, dark hallways made of black, polished metal. All those facts registered somewhere in the back of her mind as her eyes locked onto a hand, hanging by the side of the gurney. Those long, strong fingers, the same ones that had run over her body, lighting things inside her she hadn’t even known existed, were now limp and unresponsive.
Arlen can’t die. He can’t die.
She didn’t know where she was or where she was going, the only thing she knew for certain was that she was aboard the Mantrilla flagship, a monstrosity so big it cast a deep shadow over the land as far as the eye could see.
Finally, the Eok soldiers carrying Arlen stopped and a door rose into the ceiling, revealing a dizzyingly white room.
Mandibles clicked with impatience on the other side and the Eoks rushed inside. Ava stared as Arlen’s body was stripped, then lifted onto a cold metal table while the Mantrilla doctor ran instruments she didn’t recognize over his chest and along the gaping, horrid wound in his side.
Blood had stopped pouring from the mangled flesh, and only a trickle remained, but that was no consolation. Arlen’s life blood was almost gone, his body falling prey to shock.
Mandibles clicked again, this time with more urgency. Another Mantrilla entered the room, carrying bags of red liquid and strange items of medical equipment. Arlen began to shake uncontrollably, his long limbs convulsing as medical machinery beeped.
He’s lost too much blood. He’s going to go into shock.
Ava shook her head against the thoughts as Arlen’s brain reacted to the lack of oxygen. This was the last straw, she knew. The last cry for help from a body that knew it was going to die.
The Mantrilla doctors worked with a laser sharp focus, mandibles clicking and clawed hands moving fast, but as his body was hooked up to tubes and pumped full of chemicals, alarms kept beeping and a sense of doom descended over the room as the Mantrilla doctors worked with what appeared to be renewed urgency.
They were fighting a losing battle. Arlen’s heart had stopped.
Ava
fell to her knees, her vision rapidly invaded by tiny spots of darkness as the dread filtered through to her veins, her very bones, and that soul that was trapped between her ribs.
Hands closed on her shoulders, pulling her away from the room. Pulling her away from Arlen. She struggled, fighting off the hold, but she was losing this battle, too.
“Let me go!”
She turned, hissing like a feral, wounded animal. She would fight to the death to stay by Arlen’s side.
Then she met the eyes of the one person who could calm her bleeding heart. The one person who loved the Eok warrior lying on the medical bed just like she did.
“Khal.”
Blue eyes set on her as the large alien pulled her closer. The skin on his face was pulled taut across his bones and he looked at her with eyes full of pity. Pity and grief.
“I’m not leaving,” Ava told him. “Please, I need to stay with him.”
Khal stared at her then, after a moment, he nodded. “Okay.” His voice was breathless, and she held on to it like a lifeline. “I won’t make you leave.”
“He can’t die. Arlen can’t die. I love him.”
“I know.”
Then Khal stood and went to stand by the Mantrilla doctors. He spoke low and fast with them before his face twisted with grief. His large shoulders slumped and he turned wide, sorrowful eyes toward Ava.
“No!” Her voice broke as her heart shattered into pieces. “No nononononononono…”
Grief washed over her, blanketing the world in a thick black fog. Hands closed around her shoulders, big and strong. Big and strong, just like other hands, hands she would never feel again.
“Ava.” Khal spoke her name like she was mad. Like she was hysterical. Maybe she was. She just didn’t care. “Arlen won’t recover from his wound, not fully. If he lives, he will be broken; he will never fight again. We need your permission to let him go. Let him return to the Night Lands and stand at the Midnight God’s right side.”