["Liar."] The line clicked and fell silent.
Akarin's shoulders sank and Atia's heart whimpered in sympathy. Her poor sister. The weight of their world rested on her. ["I'll send another transmission for any assistance our allies can provide,"] Akarin said. Her eyes fixed on the general. ["Prepare your fighters."]
Her choice was made. So much for diplomacy.
["Yes, ma'am."] General Shotoral gave a quick nod and spun on her heel to exit the room, the clap of her steps cut off with the closing of the door behind her.
Akarin's gaze lingered on Lantis for several seconds before she moved away to stand in the sunlight, the wind blowing her white hair from her face gazing out the window. Her wings lifted as if preparing for flight, but she lowered them with her head. ["I must address the people. The upcoming days will be far more challenging than the last week since the Risaal arrived. This attack has caused confusion and panic already."]
["Of course, Lady Akarin."] The minister with the communicator stepped back to a panel at the wall, while Akarin stepped into a circle in the center of the floor. ["When you're ready."]
The scene blurred and faded, taking with it the sound of voices and the smell of fresh air.
[Are you there?] The voice was faint, as if across a great distance. [Make them stop. Tell them to stop, please. If you can, tell them…]
The voice faded and Raea stood in silent darkness. All right. Now what? "Who are you?"
WE TEACH. YOU LEARN. The Starfire entities. She recognized the strong feeling of their collective thoughts.
But who was the individual voice? And how did the entities put Raea into Atia? No scenes from the Starfire had ever given her the full awareness of any previous Keeper, but Atia wasn't a Keeper. This made no sense.
The boom of thunder rattled her teeth as the floor beneath her feet swayed. Now what?
The darkness lightened to a room of dust sparkling in the air and choking her lungs. All that was peace, it hurt. It burned through her.
["Lady Atia!"] Strong arms helped her stumble over debris through a doorway to a clearer room, but one where objects had smashed to the floor, covering the patterned stonework in splinters of glasswork, stone, and metal.
A male attendant hurried to her, kicking aside debris in his path. ["Lady Atia, your shuttle awaits."]
["I won't leave her."] Not now.
["You must. The palace will fall."]
No. She refused. Her sister needed her. ["Where's Lantis?"] She needed him at her side.
["He's on board."]
To Ahben depths with them all, and Akarin. No, she didn't mean that. But Akarin had no right ordering her son on the escape shuttle to ensure her cooperation. Akarin needed her, now more than ever. Inar'Ahben needed her at her sister's side.
To Ahben depths with the Risaal. They did this. They had taken out just two of the platforms in orbit, enough to create a hole through which they could send a few smaller warships. Akarin was right; fighting was the only way to save their world. But they were no match for the Risaal. Their allies would be too late by the time they arrived.
["Please, hurry."]
Atia ran through the corridors of the palace with the attendant, her hatred of the Risaal and her love for her world, her sister, and her son splitting her heart until it ached. She had to reach Lantis, to know he was safe, but she had to be there for her sister.
Damn the crystal, the false "gift" to their emissary. This was all a misunderstanding, but it was too late to change things.
[Damn the crystal?] Raea stumbled over the thought. The Starfire had caused trouble long before Heffin's Gate was ever created.
At an open docking area, Atia slowed. The platform stood in the open air amid a black plume of smoke from the lower levels of the palace. An ominous whine rose nearby.
["Hurry, Lady!"] The attendant stepped aside for her.
Through the acrid smoke, the sheen of the shuttle's hull caught the sunlight for a second. [Lantis.] Her breath caught and she hurried to reach the shuttle and the boy, all that remained of the deep love she had shared for a few years of her young life.
Guards stood at the steps into the craft, their weapons ready and visors hiding their faces.
Atia hesitated at the bottom of the steps into the craft and glanced back, but immediately wished she hadn't. Her heart sank as fires dotted the splendor of the palace, hiding parts of it amid the smoke. No, no, no. Kanaki Palace had been her home until Akarin had inherited the rule of their world. It had been a solid presence over Inar'Ahben for more than two hundred years.
Tears blurred her vision. That wasn't the last sight of her home she had wanted. The palace was supposed to be a glowing beacon of unity for the Inari people, an inspiration for all.
A loud explosion erupted from below and the platform trembled.
["Hurry! Get inside!"] The guard on her right took her arm and shoved her into the shuttle, coming up behind so she couldn't turn back.
["But Akarin—"] Too late. The door hissed shut, sealing them inside. Her plans to return after making sure Lantis was safely on board failed.
["Momma!"] That voice speared her heart with guilt for even considering leaving him.
In one of the seats across from the door, he bounced in his harness. She rushed to join him and strapped in as the shuttle tilted.
["Hang on!"] the pilot called from one of the front seats.
The shuttle slid onto its side, the view outside falling with it. Atia clutched Lantis and he held tight to her. It couldn't end this way.
A second later, the shuttle righted and the momentum tugged her against her harness.
Atia stroked the hair on the lovely little head next to her and let out a heavy sigh, her eyes open and staring into the sky through the shuttle window.
Her heart stopped.
No!
She tried to stand but the straps held her in her seat. ["Akarin,"] she breathed. Her sister. Her friends and attendants. All that she knew. Gone in a ball of fire and smoke falling into the ocean a mile below.
[Not again.] The emotions stealing through Atia renewed the grief of losing Elis all over. Raea choked on Atia's tears as if they were her own. Why did the Starfire want her to suffer like this? [What do you want from me?]
Nothing.
Typical stupid Starfire entities. Damn them.
Atia held Lantis close, burying her tears in his hair. They'd barely escaped death, and now he was all she had.
The shuttle rocked and spun, and everyone gasped, a few whimpering. She needed to get out, to escape, to fly free on her own.
The pilot and copilot exchanged statements about thrusters, stabilizers, and shields amid mumblings about losing the fighter on them.
["Hang on!"] the pilot called back to them.
Through a stomach-wrenching series of maneuvers, pale blue sky darkened to a starry night flashing with the occasional fire of weapons. Through it all, Lantis said nothing but clutched onto her with delicate arms.
A large ship loomed closer, growing at their approach to fill the view, until it swallowed them in its enormity.
Atia breathed easier and released her hold on her son. They had made it, but so many had died that the small security of arriving in the docking bay of the Miru ship gave her little hope for their world.
["We'll be all right, Momma."] Tiny fingers twined through hers, squeezing out her emotions with silent tears.
They would be all right, but their world would never be the same.
A New Life
Something like a distended stomach with tentacles floated next to her, tiny fins around a puckered area at the bottom fluttering in different combinations to move the balloon through the corridors. Two long tentacles and several shorter ones hung from the bottom and sides, crawling over the floor and walls as the creature passed.
["We know a world where you will be safe,"] a gentle voice said in Atia's mind.
Although she appreciated the rescue and the opportunity to start a new life on a
new world, she would never feel easy around the Miru with their very alien appearance. But how could she when this was the first time she had ever seen one? She had heard legends of the space-faring nomads but had never expected to see them, much less speak with them. Now, here they were and had revealed themselves to her.
And she would never see Inar'Ahben again. The Miru had come to aid in an evacuation to save as many as they could of the Inari. She could appreciate that, even if it saddened her.
["You have served well, but your kind can guide another race on a world far away. Your loss will be their gain."]
Atia stepped through a round hatch behind the floating creature. Her son and the others had been asked to stay behind in the cargo hold, where their people had set up a temporary camp. The Miru had asked her to join it, after having determined that she was the respected leader, apparently by reading thoughts. That made her uncomfortable more than their appearance. Knowing they could see her thoughts rather than wait for her to put them into words scared her. They must have known she was uncomfortable but they gave no indication of being offended.
["Where are we going?"]
["A world far away that we have visited many times. The dominant species is very primitive but on the verge of great leaps in their understanding. We feel that this is a most fortunate time for all. You will gain a home much like what you know, and your guidance can help these beings."]
It could work. What choice did her people have, though? They had nowhere else to go.
A cloud of pink passed over the bluish gray balloon of the Miru's floating body. ["Do not live in the burden of what was beyond your means but seek to change from what you've learned. Your race is strong, Inari. We have observed this and much more. You will rise again, stronger than before."]
Thanks, she supposed, but it changed nothing of how her sister and so many others suffered and died while she and a few hundred families survived. Her heart weighed heavily beneath the burden of emotions, strangling her will. Yet in that, a new struggle waged within her. Determination rose strong to fulfill the promise of the Miru for her people.
She would lead what remained of their species to a new height, and she would use that to improve the future. And someday they would return to Inar'Ahben, or what remained of it, and rebuild the great cities of the Inari.
The floating creature remained quiet, and she imagined it reading her thoughts while leading her to a door, which slid open at their approach. They stood on a ledge overlooking the large cargo hold, where a few Inari flew over the families settling in for the journey.
["We thank you…"] The Miru had given no name.
["We are all Miru."]
No names or just unwilling to provide them?
["All are one. We are Miru."]
All right. ["Thank you, Miru."] It would have to suffice. They shrouded themselves in mystery and lived as legends. She had seen no other creatures like this one in their brief walk through the ship. For that matter, perhaps there was only one, this one. That might explain why they—it—only appeared so rarely that many doubted the existence of the species.
["Sometimes legends are more powerful than reality, a useful tool of survival."] At that, the Miru floated away, leaving her on the end of the walk overlooking a cargo hold large enough to hold a modestly sized searoot island with room to spare.
Atia watched the Miru disappear around a corner, its last words echoing through her head. Was there only one?
How lonely it must be.
She turned back to her people, who had gathered in groups, while children played under the watchful eyes of the men who cared for them. Many had been fortunate to grab items from their homes.
She had nothing, except Lantis.
Her son. Where was he?
Not with the families in the far corner nor the children running and giggling to her right. Not with the young girls unpacking storage boxes near the center.
A flash of light caught her attention to her left. When it faded, yellow wings rose up amid a group of children.
Lantis. Apparently he'd found a toy, hopefully not something of the gentle Miru who had so generously saved them.
Afraid of offending the creature, she spread her wings and glided down to the boys, intending to return whatever they had found. She landed near her son, who hurried to hide behind his back whatever he held. A poor tactic and an obvious sign that he knew he was in trouble.
["Lantis."]
The other children drifted away, their wings tucked close to them in shame.
Golden eyes looked up guiltily.
["Show me what you have."]
He hesitated but slowly pulled a glass sphere around which bore a familiar bluish-green crystal. ["I'm sorry. Lady Akarin told me to take it. I was careful. Really, Momma. I didn't break it. It just glowed on its own."]
["Give it to me."] He could have broken it. And the crystal was now all she had left of her sister.
But glowing? It didn't seem to glow for her. ["What did you do?"]
["Nothing."] Hmm. She knew that answer too well. Nothing meant something.
["Show me, Lantis."]
He hesitated to reach up to touch the sphere, but when he did, nothing happened.
["It just happened. I don't know."]
He probably didn't know. But she knew one thing—Akarin didn't want the Risaal getting their hands on the little treasure. After seeing that brief glow from it, she could understand why. Whatever created power in it was something the Risaal were willing to destroy their world to obtain. Akarin had given her life to be sure this didn't return to the original owners, and she would honor her sister's last order.
Poor Lantis. She'd trained him well to accept responsibility, no matter the consequences, but he'd done nothing wrong.
["That's all right. I'll keep this for now. Go play."]
He brightened and scampered after his friends. Kids. Ah, to be young like that again and not understand the true burdens of life, to live in the moment.
Unfortunately, she wasn't. She was older and disliked change. They would live on a new world with new opportunities, and she would bear the responsibility of leading her people.
She hoped the Miru was right about the new world.
["Lady."]
The deep, soft voice froze her on an instant of fond memories of the past, when she had abandoned a genetic match because her heart had left her for one special man. He could not be there, not ever again; she'd seen him cast into the sea after the poisoning death. Laron had died soon after his son's birth and she had never learned who killed him.
But that voice touched a familiar place where those feelings lingered.
Atia turned, expecting disappointment at the rise of grief and her hands still clutching the sphere with the crystal.
A male matching her height with deep brown eyes which drew her into the depth of a yearning soul hesitated. ["I…I'm sorry, Lady. I didn't realize—"] He fell to one knee and dropped his face. ["Lady Mikael Atia. It is an honor."]
The honor was hers, but the words stuck in her throat out of propriety. ["Rise—"]
He obeyed, keeping those charming eyes downcast. ["Darus. Garshivol Darus, Lady."]
His presence warmed the embers of what she thought had grown cold and forlorn, but she could not show it there. In private, perhaps, but not in the open, especially not when her people needed stability in founding a new home.
["You may look on me, Darus."] She needed to see what she might have imagined, even if she had been wrong. The loss of Laron six years ago, and now their world, had left her empty and alone. She had rejected any further attempts at genetic mating out of course, allowing Akarin to inherit the governance of the Inari Provincial Consortium.
When his eyes met hers, her heart nearly stopped. The fear had softened from his face, leaving a sense of peace in his expression which strengthened her. His gaze never wavered, but she forgot the problems around them for those seconds, imagining what might be.
The long si
lence grew into awkwardness and she had to break away. Ahben depths. She hadn't felt such stirrings since her last night with Laron. ["I'm sorry, Darus."] She blinked, hoping to calm the fluttering of her heart, and pulled her wings close, aware then that they'd risen with her emotions. ["What…Did you want something?"]
No man should have such power over a woman. Yet the confidence with which he'd approached intrigued her.
["Lady Atia, forgive my impudence,"] he said more calmly. ["I had only seen you glide down and hoped you bore news."]
["I do, but for all our people."] She hesitated on a thought, catching her breath on a fear that should not matter. ["You represent someone?"]
["No, Lady."]
Hope sprang within her and words tangled in her head as they had that first time meeting Laron. ["You came alone?"]
["Yes, Lady. I was a loader for several islands before being sent here."]
That explained the strong arms, but he was bigger than most men already, perfect for the manual labor he'd done and would do to help set up their new home. Most men were weak, but Darus was different and possessed a calm confidence that stole her heart.
No, she had to keep her head.
["Your skills will be most useful where we're going,"] she said.
["Where is that?"]
["A new world. The Miru are taking us to a world where we will be safe but where we have to start over."]
Disappointment and sorrow dragged down his expression. [No. Don't.] She didn't want to see it on others, a reflection of her own grief. Her hand on his cheek was automatic, as if consoling Lantis. She pulled back, startled that she had so freely touched him.
But it had the effect she hoped—the sparkle returned to his eyes. ["You will lead us well, Lady Atia."]
Darus bowed his head, his wings lifted slightly from his back in a relaxed carriage and he turned away.
["Darus."] Her mouth worked before her brain, guided by the loneliness inside. He halted and turned to her, and her tongue refused to cooperate for a few seconds. ["Thank you."] Ahben depths. That wasn't what she should have said, but it was all that would come out.
His cheeks lifted in a warm smile before he turned away, taking a part of her with him. There was something special about this man. She would keep him in her sights, and maybe he could feel the same for her in time.
Crystal Tomb (Starfire Angels: Dark Angel Chronicles Book 3) Page 13