Destiny's Blood (The First Star Book 1)

by Marie Bilodeau

  They heard another crack in the sky above them. Barely a metre from where they now stood, the blue shimmer returned, flickering angrily.

  Ardin looked down at her questioningly, but Layela could not break away. Her eyes were locked on the capital, wishing she could still see her sister beyond it.

  The shield buckled before Yoma. She fell head first, barely catching herself with her hands before she struck the ground. She rolled to her side and took deep breaths, fighting to remain conscious. The demons, frightened by the bursts of ether from Zortan’s sword, had retreated for the moment. A few still dared come near, only to be quickly downed by the blade.

  “Go!” he shouted at them.

  “You heard the man.” Avienne hobbled up to Yoma and offered her hand. Yoma reached up and Avienne pulled, almost toppling over from the force of it. All of Yoma’s blood seemed to drain from her head and she felt faint. She would have fallen again if not for Avienne’s strong grip.

  “Come on, we have to move,” Avienne whispered urgently. Yoma struggled to open her eyes, but she was so drained, and her lids were so heavy...

  A slap rang across her cheeks, jerking her awake. Avienne still held her, barely, her right hand extended.

  “I’m starting to like hitting you.” Avienne grinned. “Now stop snoozing and start moving! I can’t carry you!”

  Yoma nodded, the sting in her cheek keeping the warm call of sleep at bay. Her limbs felt like lead as she moved, so slowly. After a single step, thunder clapped and the blue shimmer sparkled around them, catapulting them back towards the creatures, outside the reforming shields. The ether protecting the capital pulsated angrily.

  “That’s hardly fair warning!” Avienne shouted at the shield and punched it, yelping in pain as she pulled her fist back. “Bones that hurts! Take it back down, Yoma.”

  Yoma shook her head. It had taken all that she had left to give, plus Layela’s help, to take the shield down the first time. Zortan took a step back, losing ground quickly to the tar creatures.

  “Guess we gotta fight them again.” Avienne sighed. “I’m still all tarry from the last time, and I’m down to three knives.” She cast a nervous glance at the creatures before grinning weakly to Yoma. “Should make things interesting, wouldn’t you say?”

  Avienne let go of Yoma and leaned against the shields for support, flipping two knives in the air as though waiting for the right creatures to use them on. Yoma stared at the creatures, her arms still so tired, and she had no more weapons to use. She concentrated on gathering the ether around her. As she was pulling the mists into her, a light broke above them.

  Bombs exploded in their midst and the creatures scattered. The light was blue, just like the shields of Mirial. Yoma looked up as a small ship landed before them. The door opened and Gobran Kipso waved madly at them to get on board.

  Avienne laughed heartily. Zortan was beside them in an instant, Avienne refusing his help as she hobbled towards the ship. Yoma let him support her. The sounds and warmth of the ship lulled her the second they entered.

  “I’m glad I found you, Lady Yoma,” Gobran greeted them as they took off again. Yoma was squished between Avienne and Zortan, their warmth like a blanket. Even the smell of tar clinging to Avienne was comforting.

  “And Layela,” she mumbled as her eyes locked with his. A slight rush of adrenaline kept her awake for a moment longer; she remembered his desire to see one of them dead.

  “Safe,” he answered and lowered his head respectfully. When he continued speaking, it was to Zortan. “They used their ether together, I could see from up above. Perhaps…perhaps I was wrong to assume that we need to keep all of Mirial’s traditions in order to save her.”

  Yoma smiled and closed her eyes. Her head lolled back and forth as the shuttle rocked her into a deep, welcoming sleep.

  40

  Afamiliar voice called Yoma from the heavy threads of sleep. She smiled before she had even opened her eyes.

  “It’s good to hear your voice,” she whispered, her voice cracking a bit. Layela sat on the comfortable bed beside her and held a cup of water to her lips. Yoma drank slowly, remembering Zortan’s analogy about the moon and the ether. If their powers had grown so much with only the ether of the moon, she couldn’t fathom the strength they would reach under the light of the sun.

  She met Layela’s eyes of night and smiled sadly, feeling pain clutching at her chest. If we both live to see the sun. Through the room’s small window she could see the sky. The red hues now mixed with blue, turning it electric purple like the nebula — the shields of Mirial — had been. Which meant the sun would soon rise. Precious little time left.

  Layela ran her hand along Yoma’s cheek, still swollen from Avienne’s strike. Yoma laughed at her sister’s inquisitive look, remembering Avienne’s quick anger.

  “Yoma,” Layela’s voice held no laughter, only weariness. Yoma prepared herself for the blow she knew would come. Layela swallowed hard, searching for the right words. “Josmere’s dead.”

  Yoma slowly sat up, leaned against the headboard of the bed and sighed deeply. She felt just a bit of her own life escape in the breath. She had seen Josmere’s death, and had thought she could stop it. Tears welled in her eyes as she remembered her vision of the wilted Berganda, and she closed her eyes and forced herself to remember how lively she had been instead.

  Yoma’s short laugh came out more like a sob. She remembered Josmere’s own laughter, which crackled like electricity in the night air, and tears ran unchecked down her cheeks. She had wished to Mirial that they could meet again, and ached to see her friend one final time.

  Layela hugged her and Yoma hugged back, each finding comfort in the other. The smell of sap still clung to Layela despite the clean clothes. Yoma whispered in her ear, “She died because I asked her to stay with you.”

  Layela gently broke away from her twin, and Yoma looked into her deep eyes. There she saw the same strength that had resided there a long, long time ago, before three days at the hands of a Kilita had broken her.

  “Yoma, Josmere died because she loved us both. She died fighting for what she loved.” The words were spoken with a calm reassurance that made Yoma smile. This was the Layela she had hoped would return to her one day. Not afraid of losing everything, not looking for a place to hide for the rest of her life. The woman before her was facing life. Yoma smiled, pleased, feeling her sister’s strength flow into her. Josmere must have been so proud of you, Layela!

  Layela’s eyes did not waver from Yoma’s. When she spoke again, her voice did not crack. “Yoma, we have to do this together. All the way.”

  I just found you again, Layela, she thought. Tears retreated as she looked deep into her twin’s eyes.

  I just found you again. Why would I let you go?

  The remaining ships of Gobran’s fleet were filling with calm civilians, a pleasant change from the chaos a few hours before. Gobran’s crews were busily making sure that they were space-ready, leaving behind whatever supplies the twins and the Malavants would need.

  Gobran sighed. Each second he stayed on his decayed home planet made him feel older. He had argued with Ardin and Avienne that they should not stay behind, but they were adamant. Well, the boy was adamant and the girl wasn’t about to desert her brother. Even as he argued with them, he knew he was losing the battle. Radin and Sasha’s offspring were no longer the children he remembered. They were now stubborn adults like their parents, so it was not surprising that, in the end, he had lost.

  At least he would leave them with what little he had, to help them. His own daughter was near and he knew that she, too, feared that parting would mean forever. He wished for the thousandth time that he could be sure he would save them and not just bring them to a quicker death in space. Then again, even that might be a blessing.

  He heard a shuffle behind him and smiled.

  “I congratulate you, Captain Mistolta. It seems you know of more ways to cheat death than most.”

  “Yoma i
s awake and she’s recovering her strength quickly,” Zortan said, and Kipso nodded. He could hear the sounds of evacuation all around him; not the frenzied sounds from the bunker, but instead a heavy hush. “I’m going to take the twins to the temple.”

  Gobran suddenly missed the safe, nurturing rays of the sun of Mirial, wishing it would dispel the darkness he felt clutching his soul. “Tell me, Zortan, what will you do if one of the twins must die after all, to save Mirial?”

  Zortan stiffened visibly and Gobran put his hands up. “Don’t get me wrong — I would gladly follow one or both girls into battle. But, the truth is, this will rest in your hands. I just need to know that Mirial will be safe.”

  “It’s my duty to see them safe, Gobran,” Zortan whispered. For the first time, Gobran felt sympathy for his old friend.

  Gobran approached him and placed his hand on Zortan’s shoulder. He remembered his youth, when they — along with Radin — had pursued similar dreams. He remembered how he had once trusted him, and let the matter rest.

  “I will evacuate what I can of the city,” Gobran said. “Some of the ships barely made it here, but I think we can get a lot of people off this planet. I’ll try to make it to the shields before Mirial sheds another layer. The further we get, the greater our chances of survival.” He took his hand off Zortan’s shoulder and added, “Our people’s chances of survival.”

  “If Mirial perishes, you will not be long for this life, no matter where you run.”

  Gobran gave a short laugh. “Always the positive thinker, Zortan Mistolta. Perhaps we will perish either way, but maybe, just maybe, those stories were wrong, too.”

  Zortan chuckled. He held out his hand and Gobran clasped it warmly. “Best of luck to you, Gobran Kipso.”

  “Oh no,” Gobran chuckled. “I’m leaving all the luck with you. Our luck is entirely dependent on yours.”

  Zortan gave a tight smile and nodded before turning to walk away. Gobran watched his swift movements as he vanished between ships. He would soon need to leave again, but this time, he would not be pursuing one of his old friends. He would be leaving him behind.

  “Ships are full and ready for departure, Captain.” Loran came up beside him, handing him a well-prepared report of passengers and crew. Less than one thousand of the original population of Mirial remained. He felt another white hair claim space on his head.

  “Thank you, Loran. Please prepare her for flight.”

  Loran stayed beside him, shuffling her feet a bit, then looked at him, determined. “I’m not going with you, Captain.”

  “What?”

  Loran swallowed hard, but held her ground. “I spent my whole life trying to find where I belong, and where Mirial was. My parents did not leave me with much, but they did leave me with a love for Mirial. I want to fight for her.”

  Gobran took a step closer to her, Loran’s eyes defiantly meeting his. “You froze on the bridge when the wraiths attacked, Loran. What makes you think you can handle an army of dark monsters?”

  Loran flushed. “I can learn from my mistakes. I need to do this, Captain, with or without your blessing.”

  Gobran sighed. Another white hair. He shook his head and placed both his hands on the slight woman’s shoulders. They were squared and proud, and whatever doubt he had when he had made her First Mate now vanished.

  He removed his hands and formally saluted her, and she flushed with pride as she returned the gesture. She nodded and walked away, her spine straighter than before, her head held high and proud.

  He felt a slight hand on his arm and covered it with his big one.

  Today, it seemed, he could save no children but his own.

  With each passing minute, the sky became a lighter purple, the red hues slowly defeated by the blues as the moon took its bow. In the distance, the creatures wailed and the blue shields flickered, attacked from all sides. Layela wondered how long they would hold.

  Yoma walked beside her, still tired from her recent trials. Layela wished she knew more about the ether. She felt certain that it could revitalize as well as drain. Around them, the evacuation proceeded calmly, although no ship had yet taken off. Layela frowned. They would need to start going soon, if they had any chance of getting far enough.

  “Layela, Yoma!” She turned to see Avienne sitting on a low wall, her swollen ankle resting on a pillow. The twins walked towards her.

  “What happened to your foot?” Layela asked. It was grotesquely swollen, and she doubted it would support Avienne’s weight. She also doubted Avienne would leave the planet without her brother, and she doubted Ardin would leave without Layela. Part of her was pleased he was staying, although part of her wished he would go.

  “Ask your sister. She’s responsible for this.”

  Yoma’s eyebrows shot up. “Who’s responsible for my face? And who, might I ask, refused help even though she limped like a three-wheeled land rider?”

  Layela ignored the two and took a closer look at the ankle. “May I?” she asked, reaching for the bandage.

  Avienne sucked in a deep breath and mumbled, “Help yourself.”

  If the powers of Mirial were strong enough to fight off darkness and save an entire planet — if ether was so necessary for life that the world outside the shields slowly withered without it — then ether should be able to heal a simple sprain. She felt Yoma near her, and wondered if the powers of night or day were needed to heal.

  Layela shed the question and concentrated on Avienne instead, pulling the mists around her and focusing them on the wound. She could see them dancing around the foot, but they did not penetrate it. Layela frowned and placed her hand on the ankle, pressing on the bulge, as though making it real for the ether with her touch.

  Avienne gasped but made no protest, and now Layela could see the mists travelling from her hand into the ankle. She closed her eyes, letting her fingers feel the muscles and ligaments relax, their rips repair, and the ether vanish within them. Her own energies dwindled, and she forced the ether into herself as she would water a plant, her tired body absorbing it easily. Ether flowed within her, and she no longer felt tired. She grabbed her sister’s arm, though Yoma jerked a bit at the touch, and forced some into her, too. Ether was like the Lacile flower, she decided. Encouraged to grow, it would, and it would stay.

  She felt re-energized, and Avienne’s ankle felt normal beneath her touch. She smiled and opened her eyes, Yoma and Avienne were both watching her closely. Ardin was at her side too, looking at his sister’s ankle.

  Layela felt herself grow red, and she shrugged. “Compared to lowering those shields, that was nothing, really.”

  Avienne slid off the wall and landed gingerly on both her feet, grinning wildly at Ardin. “And you thought you’d get rid of me!”

  “I would never dream of it,” he said, placing a hand on Avienne’s shoulder. He let go and gently slid his arm around Layela’s waist, looking at her with a question. She merely shook her head.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt the festivities,” Zortan said, stepping out of the shadows. Layela wondered how long he had been watching. “But we should get going. The sun will rise in less than an hour. The temple is not far, but we should go, now.”

  Layela glanced at Yoma, who refused to look at her. Ardin’s arm tightened around her.

  He looked at Zortan. “I’m coming too.”

  “Blood and bones, sounds like fun! I’m in, too!” Avienne immediately chimed in as she tested her newly-healed ankle.

  The blue shields danced in Zortan’s eyes. “You can’t.”

  Ardin stiffened beside Layela and she put her hand on his arm to hold him back. She doubted confronting Zortan was a good idea, especially if he had even half the skill Avienne and Yoma attributed to him.

  In answer, Zortan looked up. The blue shield danced and energy sliced through it, the purple sky suddenly covered with less shimmer.

  “Let me guess. It’s not supposed to do that,” Avienne said, leaning back against the wall.

&nbs
p; “The creatures will break through soon. Someone has to keep them at bay.”

  Avienne perked up again. “And here I thought you were just trying to keep us out of trouble!”

  “I would never dream of it.”

  “How are we supposed to keep them back?” Ardin asked, removing his arm from around Layela. She missed its warmth immediately.

  “There are still weapons in the capital; ether weapons. Some of them still work. There,” he pointed towards an old crumbled wall, with two long-nosed, sleek-looking guns hitched on a rampart. “And there,” another broken wall, with three more guns.

  “Doesn’t seem like much,” Ardin said. He scanned the horizon, where the creatures would be breaking through.

  “It isn’t. You won’t be able to hold them back for long. Once they close in, you’ll have to hold your ground,” Zortan said. He held out his hands. Avienne leapt forward at the sight of a knife belt, filled with gold-handled knives. A sword, smaller than Zortan’s but with its pommel decorated with the emblem of Mirial, was in his other hand.

  “These are old, but they were weapons used by my guards, and they were forged with ether. They will help you hold your ground.”

  Ardin took the sword, pulling the blade free from the old scabbard. The metal gleamed red in the dwindling moonlight. Avienne hesitated, cocking an eyebrow up at Zortan.

  “If I take the weapons of your guards, does that mean I have to obey you?”

  “I would never make such a demand of you.”

  Avienne broke into a huge grin as she took the belt. She pulled a knife out and flipped it, whistling as she caught it again. “Perfectly balanced.” She brought the knife closer to her face and studied the finely decorated gold hilt. “These must be worth a fortune.” She was rewarded with a warning look from her brother.

  “I’m just saying, not selling.”

  “If you live through this night, Avienne Malavant,” Zortan said, “you can have the knives and do whatever you wish with them.”