Destiny's Blood (The First Star Book 1)

by Marie Bilodeau

She imagined Josmere standing beside her, laughing, encouraging her, telling her to take chances, to learn to live again. Telling her she was strong, and she would always be, no matter what the Kilita had once let her see and believe.

  She broke from Ardin, traced his strong jaw line with her fingers, saw the fire in his eyes and smiled. She stood, Ardin beside her. It was time to forge her own path.

  “It’s about life, not death,” Layela said. She looked down at the freshly dug earth and blew a kiss to her friend.

  “Goodbye, Josmere Berganda.”

  38

  The landscape spread bleak and forbidden around them, no plant, no water, no life. The companions had walked for the better part of three hours, and their legs now felt heavier, their stomachs emptier and their throats drier.

  Avienne leaned on Yoma, her features tight. Zortan had re-splinted her bandage twice, both times just as tightly, and each time the ankle had swollen further. The smuggler did not complain once, but her lack of smiles, jokes and swears was worrisome. A small cropping of hills lay before them and Zortan led them to a spot between three hills, blocked from view.

  “We’ll rest here briefly,” he said as he lowered the bag, and then he vanished around the next hill, scouting to make sure the area was safe. Yoma helped Avienne sit down.

  “How’re you holding up?” Yoma asked, offering some dried meat to Avienne.

  “Bloody painful. If I had two good legs, I would kick Zortan.”

  Yoma smiled and nibbled at the meat, forcing the food down. They still reeked of blood and for the first time in her life, she found herself craving a bath. Dirty, she was used to. Disgusting and bloodied, she was not.

  She took a swig and handed the water skin to Avienne, who sighed and looked it forlornly before taking some herself. She winced as though it was poison.

  “I hope my brother’s having better luck than us,” Avienne said as she handed the skin back to Yoma.

  “With any luck, Gobran found them and brought them somewhere safe by now,” Yoma said. She offered meat to Zortan as he joined them again.

  “It seems safe, but we shouldn’t linger long.” He crouched by Avienne and felt her ankle. “I’m going to have to re-splint this.”

  Avienne shrugged her assent. “If stars didn’t explode in front of my eyes every time you touched me, it just wouldn’t be the same.”

  “Just don’t lose consciousness, or we’ll have to leave you behind if the enemy closes in.” Yoma was about to protest, but then she saw that Zortan was smiling. Avienne slit her eyes at him, but the humour in them was obvious. Zortan turned his attention to undoing the splint and Avienne squeezed her eyes shut, her face losing what little colour it had left. The moon, full and bloodied, was now almost over them.

  “Why did this moon not shine before?” Yoma asked.

  “The moon was created to reflect ether from the sun to the dark side of the planet,” Zortan answered as he skilfully wrapped Avienne’s foot again. “For Mirial, which is so close to the First Star, it’s like a warning system. Imagine not drinking water for a long time and then drinking too much. You would make yourself sick. If you drink a bit at first and get used to it, then your body can drink greater portions. That’s what the moon is to Mirial. Small sips of ether before it gets to gulp.”

  Yoma looked at the moon. “So that means the sun will rise soon?”

  Zortan nodded and stood up, finished with Avienne’s ankle. “Yes. Adina kept the planet safe from the sun with her ether, but without her controlling it, the planet has resumed its normal rotation.”

  “Is that so bad?” Yoma looked out at the hills, as dead as everything else on Mirial. “This land looks like it could use some light.”

  Zortan sighed. “The sun of Mirial is wild with ether right now, and could flare up at any moment. A flare would wipe out the entire area touched by sun — maybe the whole planet, now that Adina no longer protects it.”

  Yoma shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. Why didn’t Adina just reset the sun, or however it works?”

  Zortan was very still for a moment, gazing at the moon but not seeing it. He spoke softly. “Because she couldn’t. She would have given her soul to save her people, but only the heirs can actually link with Mirial. All that she could do was channel its ether, not take full control of it. And that wasn’t enough.”

  His shoulders squared again, as though shedding the memory, and he looked down and held Yoma’s eyes with his own. “We’re running out of time. If the sun strikes this half of the planet and you lower the shields, the First Star will flare and destroy us. And it might shed its overflow of ether anyway before the next sunset.” He paused, took a deep breath. “If you think this part of the planet is dead, where it has not seen light in almost two decades, then imagine what it will be like after the sun destroys it. At least we’ll probably all be instantly killed, and we won’t have to witness it.”

  “Sounds fun,” Avienne mumbled, sitting up. “I like Zortan’s plan better than the death thing, Yoma.”

  Yoma cast a glance at Avienne, the smuggler pale and drawn. “I can walk,” Avienne insisted. She clenched her jaw and struggled up, her eyes cold and set. Yoma went to her side, but the woman refused assistance. She hobbled forward. “I can walk.”

  “The capital is just beyond these hills.” Zortan said. “Let’s go.”

  Avienne hissed and followed after him, limping surprisingly quickly and refusing all help from Yoma.

  “Aren’t you just the little stubborn one,” Yoma said, staying near. Avienne didn’t answer, too focused on keeping pace.

  A sound caught Yoma’s ears from all sides, odd yet chillingly familiar. Zortan was at their side in a moment. Without a word, he grabbed Avienne and threw her over his shoulders as if she was nothing more than a sack of potatoes. Avienne screamed in protest.

  “Blood and bones, what are you doing?”

  “We have to move fast.” He broke into a run that left Yoma struggling to keep up with his pace, despite his extra load. Avienne was tossed by his strides, and the repeated collisions of her ribcage with his shoulders pulled short, high pitched swears from her. Around them, the gurgling was closing in.

  Yoma pulled her gun free and fired as the first creature moved out of the shadow of the hill beside them. It jerked back, but Yoma doubted it was dead. She didn’t linger around to find out.

  She chanced a look back. The creatures were pouring into the path behind them, gaining speed. They looked like a tumbling, thick river of tar filling a dry riverbed.

  “They’re gaining!” She screamed ahead as she fired again, the bullet lost in the mass of goo. Zortan stopped and she smashed into him, not fazing him. He dropped Avienne and pulled his sword free, the blade blood-red as it swung at the first creature. He struck it and sliced it, the creature shrieked and evaporated. White smoke rose from its vanishing remains.

  Avienne jumped back on her good leg and fired her gun, throwing knives in between shots. Yoma fired as well, but her bullets and Avienne’s knives had very little impact beyond buying them a few more seconds.

  Zortan’s thrusts and parries proved so quick that Yoma couldn’t keep up with his movement. The dark-clad warrior blended in with the dark creatures until only the flash of his sword allowed her to see him — and to see that he was losing ground, as well.

  Yoma fired again. The creatures were barely two metres from her and Avienne. Her gun choked. No more bullets! She fumbled into her pockets, finding no refills. Why hadn’t she taken the other guard’s gun too?

  “I’m out too.” Avienne closed ranks and pulled two more knives free, handing one to Yoma. “Just in case,” she said over the rising gurgling sounds, and Yoma knew what she meant. Just in case they got too close, it was better to die by a blade than to get sucked into the tarry mass.

  The land was covered by the dark creatures as far as Yoma’s eyes could see. She clutched the knife and prepared to fight with her bare hands, wondering if the dark flesh would give at all.r />
  Gggrrrrrrrrrggggggggrgbbbbbbbrrrrrrr. The sound washed over them, the ground shaking. The creatures closed in around them, their noise shifting until they almost seemed to be purring in anticipation.

  “Let go!” Avienne screamed. Yoma whirled around. Avienne was down, her good leg clutched tightly by the tar.

  “Bloody and bones!” She swung the knife at the creature, only to have it absorbed into the mass. The smuggler screamed in anger. It was dragging her in further now. Her fingernails dug into the ground and her leg kicked out, but the creature continued unfazed, ensnaring Avienne’s second leg.

  Yoma threw herself to the ground and grabbed Avienne’s hands, pulling her back with all her strength.

  “Zortan!” she screamed, chancing a glance at him. He was surrounded, and soon even the ether of his sword would not be enough.

  The smuggler was ripped from Yoma’s grasp and pulled into the creature. Only a few strands of red hair stuck out from its side.

  “Avienne! No!” Yoma felt her insides boil, her vision becoming black. Her anger exploded, covering the world in light for an instant. She remembered the warm embrace of Mirial, as she had felt it on the Victory, when she had wished for nothing more than to save Josmere. She called out again, not with her voice but with her thoughts, hopes and fears. Her breath ripped out of her in a warm gale; her body was struck with heat so great that her fingers and legs grew numb. Mirial responded with a caress on her cheek, like a kiss blown from far away. The world spun, and her limbs tingled again. Her eyesight returned and she blinked. The land was free of the creatures; there were only knives strewn about on the ground. Avienne sat up and stared at her, eyes wide.

  Yoma blinked again. She wanted to see if Zortan was okay, if she was dreaming, but her body would no longer respond.

  She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breaths, not surprised when she felt herself meet the ground a few seconds later.

  39

  Avienne still leaned against Yoma, but now Yoma needed her strength as well, the ether having greatly sapped her energy. She couldn’t quite focus her eyes and she found that concentrating on the ground at her feet made her dizzy, so she looked up instead, towards the horizon. Beyond the hills would be the capital where, according to Zortan, the shields should still exist. Thoughts of rest and safety spurred Yoma on and they slowly made their way, guarded by Zortan’s deep shadow.

  Yoma caught Avienne glancing at her sideways.

  “What is it?” Yoma asked. She wished they could stop for just a few minutes so that she could grab a nap. Just a few minutes would restore her, she was certain.

  “How did you do that?” Avienne asked. “I mean, killing all of those things in one blow? If I could have done that…” She dropped the idea, pulling a piece of tar out of her hair in disgust.

  “I don’t really know. I just sort of wish it true, if that makes sense.”

  Zortan walked before them and carefully examined every crevice, sword in hand. Yoma was certain he was listening closely.

  Avienne was quiet for a few moments, long enough that Yoma thought the smuggler had dropped the conversation. She was surprised when Avienne spoke again.

  “Well, I’m glad you wished that. I mean, thanks,” she mumbled, then turned and flashed her a brilliant smile. “I still have things to do, you know! Not a good way to go, all dirty and tarry.” She winced as she put too much weight on her wounded ankle.

  Avienne took a deep breath and focused on Zortan instead, reassuming her indifferent manner.

  “How come your sword can kill those things?” Avienne asked.

  “It’s the sword of the Captain of the Royal Guards. It’s meant to protect royalty against any attacker.” He shot Yoma a look, and added, “And it can track missing royalty.”

  “No wonder I can’t shake him,” Yoma mumbled.

  “Can’t someone else use it to track down the twins?” Avienne asked.

  “The sword can only be used by those most loyal to the heirs. It can’t be used against them.”

  “Oh.” Avienne sounded disappointed.

  “My sister is coming from the other side. Can you sense that, Captain of the Royal Guards?”

  Zortan hesitated. “Yes, but only faintly. The power is weaker, split in two.”

  “I need you to promise me something, Zortan,” Yoma said, her footing more sure as her next words gave her strength. “Promise me that you’ll protect Layela before me. If you have to choose, protect her, not me.”

  Zortan kept his gaze focused ahead as he answered. “I can’t promise that. If one of you is to die, my blood will also be spilled.”

  “Oooooooooh,” Avienne murmured, her interest perked.

  Yoma was about to reply angrily when they stepped out of the hills, and words were lost to her. Before them lay what could only be the capital. Domes and towers rose from the ground, woven into cliffs and mountains, glittering white in defiance of the red light. In the centre was a thin tower, tall and proud, bearing the emblem of Mirial on a cloth that flapped in the wind despite the heavy air.

  The sight of it tugged at Yoma’s heart.

  “This is where you and your sister were born,” Zortan said, stopping to look, as well.

  “Looks pretty dead to me,” Avienne said. She kicked a rock in disgust. Yoma looked at Avienne in surprise. It was the most spectacular city she had ever seen! But when she turned back, she sucked in her breath as she saw how the city had changed from the vision that had shrouded it a moment before. The towers had long ago crumbled, the domes collapsed, and the high tower bore but a tattered, limp rag. The buildings were scorched and black, as though a great fire had raged and consumed all in its path.

  “What happened here?” she whispered. She clung to the earlier vision in defiance of the broken wreck that now lay before her.

  “Your mother died, ether was unleashed and people suffered.” Zortan resumed walking, but Yoma could not tear her eyes away from the rag, seeing the banner and its beautiful emblem so clearly in her mind. Flowers had been interwoven to form a giant flower which hugged a sun, filled with colours that would rival the best painter’s palette.

  “Come on,” Avienne whispered urgently. A familiar gurgling was rising in the horizon, beyond the hills.

  She moaned and they began walking. Zortan waited for them and let them pass first, his sword ready as the gurgling grew louder.

  “The shields have to be taken down before we can pass,” he said casually, as though it were the simplest thing to do in the world. Yoma turned and looked towards the city, noting now that a faint blue shimmer blocked her path. When she held out her hand and touched it, energy coursed through the tips of her fingers and lights danced around them. Gingerly she pushed on the shield, but it was as ungiving as a brick wall.

  “You’ll have to use your powers,” Zortan called back, the gurgling now louder. Yoma knew at any second the creatures would be slithering out from beyond the hills and they would be trapped.

  Yoma took a deep breath. “I’ll try,” she said, putting her other hand out and looking up. The shields extended like a dome around the capital. She tried to see a weakness, but could see none. She closed her eyes and imagined it as a door. She had to pick the lock, only this time her mind was the tool. She let ether flow through her, the familiar mist clouding her vision. She gathered and held it within her until there was too much and it stopped her breath. Then she focused it and hurled it at the shield with all her strength. Her eyes opened and she watched blue ether flowing wildly across the shield’s surface.

  “Blood and bones,” Avienne said.

  The shield stopped flickering. Yoma pushed on it, and felt her blood leave her extremities. It was still solid.

  Behind her, she heard Zortan move into action as the gurgling rose in pitch.

  “Try again. Now,” Avienne said. She turned around, putting too much weight on her bad foot and almost falling. Knives flew free from her hand before she had even fully turned. Yoma couldn’t ignore th
e slight tremble in the smuggler’s usually confident arms.

  Yoma took a deep breath. Her limbs were numb, her lips cold, her eyes blurry. She was running out of energy again and feared she would pass out. The sounds of battle raged around her and her breath turned cold. She realized that she had no idea what else to try.

  “What do you think this is?” Ardin placed his hands on the blue energies. The shimmer travelled inside and up the dome it formed. “It’s at least ten metres deep.”

  Layela was about to answer when blue light travelled the shield and they both took a step back, Ardin moving in front of her protectively. Layela gazed at the blue light, mingled with white, and gently urged Ardin aside. She stepped up to the odd dome, placing her hand on it.

  “It’s a shield,” she whispered, placing her other hand next to her first, watching the blue lights dancing all around her skin. She gazed at the shield, and beyond it at the capital, and then her mind’s eye took her further still. The mists overpowered her vision and she saw, far away, her sister, Avienne and Zortan. They were locked in a battle, Avienne’s knives flying to the last and Zortan’s sword energized with ether, swinging swiftly at the creatures...but not quickly enough.

  Her sister’s hands were pressed against the shields. The blue light tingled around her hands, and she said something, but Layela could hear nothing — not her sister’s words, nor the sounds of battle. She looked closer, past the white mist, into Yoma’s eyes. She saw fear and fatigue in them.

  Layela smiled, knowing Yoma could see her too, and Yoma smiled back, her green eyes shining with unspent tears.

  Layela screamed and flung the white mists against the shield, willing them down. She felt her sister do the same, felt their ether mingle and crackle like thunder in the night.

  Layela fell to her knees, gasping as the vision of Yoma left her.

  “Let’s move,” Ardin said. He half-carried, half-dragged her across the empty space where the shield had been. “We don’t know if it’ll come back up!” Layela found her footing and ran with him.