by Ciara Knight
A dull hum sounded from above, followed by a clank from behind. The machines fired up and steam rose from the center of a large contraption. A long metallic arm swung around and a grey-coated medic pointed the silver box attached to the end of the arm, directly at my heart. Unbuttoning my blouse and untying the corset, he nodded to someone beyond my field of vision.
My body trembled. Fire shot from my core.
The laser pierced my chest.
I cried out. Tears flooded my cheeks.
A blurred figure jumped from an air vent. Bendar?
Smell of burned flesh confirmed he was too late.
Sparks ignited and shot across the room. A commotion followed.
A tall dark haired figure stepped out from the shadows.
My chest burned. Excruciating pain radiated from the line between my breasts where the laser sliced me open. My racing heartbeat slowed. Choking, thrashing, I tried to get away from the heated light.
It intensified. My heart shivered. If I was lucky, they wouldn’t be able to get the implant in before I died.
I blinked a few times waiting, knowing the agony would cease with my death.
The sparks faded. Choking and gurgling sounds echoed around me. The figure made his way to me with his arms outstretched overhead. It was too big to be Bendar. The laser screeched and faded. The straps were ripped from my arms and I lifted into the air.
A pulse shot from the intruder into my chest. The pain in my chest lessened.
Sirens roared. Red lights flashed.
“Hurry or both dead—” Bendar’s voice sounded faintly over the sirens.
My savior shuffled to the open vent and lowered me into the opening. “Pull her in.”
Thunder sounded from the corridor. The guards were coming. The ship was now on alert. All he had done was prolong my suffering.
A second later, he dove into the air duct and closed the vent behind him. As he pushed me through the next opening, crimson swirls of blood covered his Neumarian vest and the duct’s silver walls.
My heart stuttered, its beat faint. My eyelids drifted closed.
Mother hadn’t won, yet.
Knees and hands crawled over me. An ear rested on my chest.
Death roared closer, life draining with each drop of blood that fell from my body, and all I could think was, finally.
He lifted his head from my body. “No heartbeat. All of this was for nothing.”
Chapter Three
My eyelids protested as if a blast door held them closed. Then, they fluttered open, revealing a blur of golden-brown. Strong arms lowered me onto a solid, rough surface. Dark walls of dirt and stone surrounded me, while agonizing pain ravaged my chest.
“You’ll be fine,” a strange masculine voice whispered, before his cool hands pushed my arms down to my side. “Don’t touch the wound. Relax, we’re below ground. No one’ll find us here…not even the queen.”
Beads of perspiration coated his forehead above his dark, arched eyebrows. Biceps bulged against bloodstained brown sleeves rolled above his elbows.
I groaned, my mouth dry as the Wasteland. Odors of dust and damp earth mixed with my blood. Moving my hand, I touched my chest. Liquid saturated my clothing. Not just any liquid. My blood. My head spun and my muscles seized at the memory of the hot laser carving me open.
He leaned over me, jet black hair brushing his defined cheekbone. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to mine. His compassionate golden eyes met mine, and a smile curved his lips. “Relax, I’ve got you. You need to be calm.” His eyes darkened with amber swirls and the outer edge ebbed into metallic-grey until the whites looked like ice. Cool serenity eased my fear, draping it with a blanket of calm.
He examined my wound. His shirt opened revealing a strange tattoo of six dagger tips swirling off a central sphere. The dark center pulsed gray. Silver spun around the edge of the circle, snaked out from one of the knife-points, and down his veins to his fingers. A light fixture overhead popped and the scent of ozone filled the air.
“You’re a Neumarian,” I murmured, unafraid of his glowing hands. He’d saved me from becoming a slave to the general and being converted to a walking machine. I knew Neumarian’s couldn’t be the monsters Mother made them out to be.
He glanced back at the light fixture and gave a perplexed scowl.
I scanned the room but saw only the table I lay upon, a chair, and a door. No windows or air vents. For the first time in four years no red beard or small fingers poked through, alerting me of Bendar’s presence.
“Stay still. You’ve lost too much blood.” His hands touched my shoulder and stomach, then flattened and pressed. Soothing waves penetrated my skin. Energy the color of diamonds flowed from his fingers into my veins. Ice shot into my chest and exposed belly.
Pulses of electricity snapped at every nerve ending and my body jolted. I bucked under his grip. Then light shone so bright his hands looked like the winter sun.
The white hue faded and he pulled back.
He shoved what remained of the black corset out of the way and unbuttoned my undershirt. “Inside’s mended. Must seal your wound.”
My pulse raced beneath his touch. He exposed enough skin to access the wound. A rough finger grazed my skin, running from sternum to collarbone, in a gentle sweep. A wake of trembling muscle remained behind.
Skin pulled taut and mended together, his gift worked more efficiently than a laser. With slow determined strokes, he continued to brush his finger from my lower sternum to my neck, tracing the remaining red line.
He leaned over me, his mouth so close his cool breath caressed my skin when he blew against the fading scar. Then even closer, his lips brushed my neck. My toes curled and a soothing cocoon wrapped around my body.
“You’ll be fine now,” his whispers danced in my ear. “Give it a minute and the anesthetic aftereffects will wear off.”
Aftereffects? Who cared? I wanted to wrap my arms around him and never let go.
A long cool breath soothed my sore ribs. His hands grazed my skin again where his mouth had just been.
He backed away. “Um, think I’ll give you a minute.”
Everything shattered like an overheated luminary. I bolted upright, pulling my blouse tight, my chest barely contained under the sheer red fabric. “What was that?”
“Told you. It’s aftereffects from my gift. Person receiving life force feels pleasure instead of pain. They envision their greatest joy in life for a few moments. I’m guessin’ you were thinking of a lover.”
“Lover?” I huffed and jumped down from the table, swaying for a moment. I grabbed the gritty edge of the dusty table to keep myself upright. “I am a princess! No man has ever touched me.”
He laughed, soul deep. “Uptight, huh? Well, Princess. No worries. You’re not my type.” He rubbed his cheek while he sauntered to the other side of the room and tossed some clothes from a nearby bench at me.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Clothes. Might want to rethink that frock, unless you aim to be conspicuous and hauled back aboard the ship.”
I looked down at the brown pants, chocolate top, black boots, hat with goggles and vest. “Where do I change?”
“Here, it’s not safe to leave the room.”
My pulse quickened. “I can’t change, not with you here.”
He waved at my torn and blood soaked clothing. “Then stay in those.”
I scanned the empty room. Four bare walls taunted me. “Turn around.” Even as the words left my mouth, I felt like a fool. He’d seen most everything when he’d healed me.
He folded his arms across his chest. His smirk as he pivoted and faced the wall told me he knew it, too. The material of his shirt pulled, revealing a strong, muscular back and shoulders. Warmth spread over the skin on my chest where he had touched me moments ago. A trick or side effect from his healing, I didn’t care.
I frowned and turned my back to him. Mother had warned me about such tricks and told me that was how parasites domin
ated us. That was why they needed the collars to control them.
For the first time, I questioned what she had told me.
Mother.
What would happen to all the people in this town when she discovered I’d escaped? A shiver rippled over my exposed skin.
I’d deal with the repercussions later. Now I needed to change. I tossed my ripped shirt to the side, yanked my skirts off, and grabbed the pants. The soft animal-skin glided up my leg to my waist—a perfect fit. Although tight, the shirt and vest, unlike the corset, left room to breathe. Only the boots, heavy on my feet, and the hat felt foreign.
The strange attire hugged my skin as if it had always been a part of me. No long, cumbersome skirt or ties to lace. While not the simplistic dresses of my childhood, this outfit wasn’t far removed from them.
“You can turn around.” I faced the room and discovered him already gawking at me with a mischievous grin. “You have no respect, do you?”
He sauntered over, stopping in front of me, and scanned the length of me with a hungry expression. “None what so ever.”
His massive shoulders were wider than any I’d seen among the council members and royal subjects. The scent of leather and earth, so unlike the metallic and oil odor of the ship, drew me, but I remained in place, refusing to indulge in the temptation. I was still a princess.
No man, other than the general, had been that close to me. The corners of his mouth curled up and he leaned forward, his lips brushing my ear. Warm breath caressed my lobe. My breath hitched.
“Bleached curls would be a dead giveaway.” He tucked my hair up under my hat. Then his hand cupped my face and he leaned in. “As I said, not my type.”
Fury bubbled up. He had no right to play these games with me. So, I swung.
He captured my wrist, and holding it loosely, he bowed mockingly. “Not behavior I’d expect from a princess.”
My insides tightened and my hands fisted. I wanted to pummel him. But I wasn’t sure why.
The solid brown door swung open.
“Ryder, all is w-well upstairs.” A young girl with long dark hair, and golden-brown eyes, limped into the room. A familiar thump…tap echoed from under her petite dress and I flinched at the sound. “I’m R-Raeth.”
I narrowed my eyes on the girl. “Raeth?” I whispered. No! It couldn’t be her. She was almost dead when Bendar and I left her in the Wasteland. Yet earlier, I’d seen her stumble and Mother had called me a traitor because the girl lived.
“Uncle d-dropped off food so I th-thought I’d bring it to you. I’m just across th-the hall if you n-need anything.”
The door clicked shut behind her.
My head spun as the memory of shoving the half-dead twelve year old out the bay door filled me. Bendar and I had hoped we’d succeeded, prayed she’d be found. Yet in our hearts, we’d known Raeth couldn’t survive the Wasteland. Maybe it wasn’t her.
“How can she be collared? Is she a Kantian?” I asked.
His temple twitched. “No, she’s no Slag.”
That derogatory word for my people showed how much he despised us. “What happened to her?” I asked.
“Your people did that to her.”
Yes, they had. “I always thought a Neumarian couldn’t handle an implant. Their brains won’t—”
“You ain’t believin’ Slags’ve got higher brain capacity now, do you? That’s a lie they tell everyone to maintain power.”
“No, that’s not true. They’ve tried to help regular humans who’ve lost their limbs, but their brains short circuited from the implants.”
“Zamolci zugur!” He smashed his fist down on the table I once laid on, spraying blood that still dripped down the side. “Lies!”
“You speak in strange tongues. I’ve heard that some still speak an ancient language.”
He stopped and faced me. “It is the language of my people. We used it during the war.”
“Why speak it if no one else—”
“You’d never understand. You’re one of them.” Contempt dripped from his words.
The door flew open. “The s-soldiers have been called back to th-the ship. Uncle w-wants to see us. I th-think he’s got a plan.”
Plan? What sort of plan?
Raeth smiled and nodded for me to follow. My mind still reeled at the thought of Raeth being alive. She would be sixteen now, yet this girl remained thin and small. I analyzed her from head to toe. Same brown hair and dark eyes, but her face was no longer that of a little girl. Even the way she twirled the loose fabric of the thin dress with her fingers was familiar. Perhaps all the torture had stunted her growth. It had to be her. I stepped closer, but she backed away and shook her head.
I froze.
Did she hate me? Of course she did. I left her for dead.
If I hadn’t been looking, I would have missed her canting her head toward Ryder before she walked out of the room.
Ryder nudged me in the back. “You goin’ to move or do I have to carry you again?”
I shuffled out the door, not too sure I wanted to know what fate waited for me above ground. “I’ve got it. You saved me. Now what?”
“No need to thank me or anything. ‘Course me being a slave and all I guess it’s beneath you.”
I opened my mouth in protest, but he shrugged past me and headed up some stone steps that soon turned to wooden planks as we ascended. Raeth glanced back before she opened the door, flashing a reassuring smile.
Sunshine blinded me as we emerged out of the side of a building through a cellar entrance. Ryder bent down and closed the door with care, then moved a barrel over it.
Like the innards of the ship, these people had found a place to hide. Was I the only one who never discovered a safe place away from Mother?
Ryder smacked his palm against the old, green, dusty doors and we entered a smoky saloon. At least, that was what I assumed it was. The general had spoken about it often enough, as did the guards.
I stood in the doorway, my gaze held by an old lady with a painted face who sat in the corner. She waved her mug around merrily. The loose skin under her arms bellowed like sails. Her joy, age, and flaws were real, unlike those on Mother’s ship who wore smooth, expressionless masks.
A tall, distinguished man rose from his chair and opened his arms to Raeth. She raced into his welcoming embrace and buried herself in his hug.
There was no collar secured around his neck, so I assumed he was human, but how did he have a niece and nephew that were Neumarian? He seemed familiar, someone I had known for years, yet I couldn’t place him. While watching them together, a twinge of jealousy snapped in my deepest thoughts for a moment.
If only Father were still alive.
“Uncle. Th-thank you,” Raeth murmured into his chest.
Ryder snarled. “Should’ve stayed out of it. Why’s she worth our lives?”
Their uncle scanned the room and stepped closer to Ryder, keeping his voice low. “Anything for my niece.” He nodded at the barmaid and shouted, “Greta, get him a drink. He needs to cool off.”
His voice drew me. Where had I heard that deep tone before? It carried well and reminded me of my father. Flashes of memory assailed me and I saw Father and a man like Raeth’s uncle hovering over a map, discussing the queen’s location and their agent’s safety.
“Hi, I’m Fallon. Nice to meet you.”
He dipped his head in respect. Now that’s the first familiar sight I’d seen all day. I shook off the odd feeling and started to curtsy, but the pants made the movement strange.
“Don’t mind him, he’s hot-headed and all this business with the queen is stirring up old memories.”
“What memories?” I asked, hoping to learn more about why he rescued and brought me here.
Raeth rapped her knuckles against her leg. “He t-took life force from friends w-when he t-tried to s-save me from dying from infection.”
My hands shook, and I wanted to run. But where would I go? Instead, I followed behind her, pulling my
cap low. “You mean he murdered his own friends?”
Raeth shook her head. “N-no. He blames himself, th-though. Lost control, people died.”
I sat on the edge of a bar stool next to Raeth and opened my mouth to ask another question, but she shook her head and darted her eyes at her brother. Why did she want to keep it a secret that we knew one another? Did he blame me for all those people dying? I’d have to get her alone to find out, but now wasn’t the time.
Silently, I watched men drink and paw at women. The musicians played their tunes and the barkeep poured drinks. Life continued despite my inevitable demise. None of these people would get involved to help me or Raeth or the person seated next to them. If there was one thing I understood from Mother’s long winded explanations of why it was so important she rule over all, was that humans didn’t want the job. They were lazy and ineffective in keeping things safe.
An icy chill slid from the back of my skull to my toes. Humans didn’t care and Neumarians would gladly turn me back over to the queen. There was nowhere for me to go. My head spun and I wobbled on the stool. I lifted the murky glass and took a sip of golden liquid. It scorched my throat. I choked, dropping the glass which shattered on the floor.
The music stopped. Drinks stilled. I glanced in the mirror, and met the humans’ reflected fear-filled gazes. Did they recognize me? Were they waiting to turn me over in hopes of saving themselves?
Fools. They blindly followed Mother with no questions asked.
“Nothing to see here.” Fallon ordered the band to continue with a wave of his arm and scooped the chairs off the floor.
Why did they bring me here? Wouldn’t they just turn all of us over to the queen?
Fallon motioned Ryder to the bar. “Don’t worry about them. They don’t want any business with the queen. Just want to drink and gamble. You’re safe for now.”
“Besides, any of them think about yapping, Uncle will take care of them.” Ryder tapped his head. “Neumarian gift of reading minds comes in handy around here.”
A young woman placed her fiddle under her chin. Within minutes, her jig lightened the mood of the customers. Soon a stout man joined in on his keyboard and the long brass pipe that shot straight above him vibrated.