by Anna Hackett
His body was a mass of agony. “I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
“Let’s get out of here. The Kantos will come searching.”
He touched the controls, and the pod opened with a hiss. Sunlight flowed over them, combined with an eerie silence.
They climbed out of the pod and he stifled a groan. Finley helped him stand.
“The oxygen’s a little low,” he warned her, “so take it easy.”
She nodded, looking around. They were standing in the center of a city, nestled in a valley between several hills. It was abandoned, with recent signs of fighting.
All the buildings gleamed, made from a white stone, but many were marred with scorch marks. Some of them were just rubble. All around them, the trees had been stripped of leaves, and there wasn’t much greenery left.
“What happened here?” Finley murmured.
Sabin shook his head. He had a suspicion of where they were.
Finley wandered down the cobblestone street. On the mountain top above them sat a ruined temple. The design was elegant, even beautiful. The ruined city’s architecture was artful, with lots of quiet pools and now-still fountains.
There were also several overturned transports in the street.
Finley gasped.
“What?” He hurried to her.
“God.” Tears shimmered in her eyes and she pressed her hand to her mouth. “Sabin, look.”
The street was littered with desiccated skeletons. They were humanoid.
“Where are the animals? There are no birds, no insects.” Her eyes widened. “The Kantos attacked here.” Horror filled her eyes.
He sighed. “I suspect this is the planet C’addon. The Kantos recently attacked it.”
“Everyone’s dead. Wiped out like they never existed.” She swallowed, then her eyes sparked. “I’m not letting them do this to Earth.”
Sabin hugged her. “Right now, we need to focus on calling for help.”
There was a rush of sound in the sky. They both turned and saw several swarm ships in the distance.
Cren. Sabin hurried back to the pod and pulled some rubble over it. “Come on.”
They jogged toward the closest buildings and ducked inside. They hunkered down, just as a swarm ship swept right overhead.
Finley stifled a gasp as the ship kicked dust up.
“They’re searching for us,” she said.
“Yes.” He scanned the ruined city and then glanced up again at the temple on the hill. “We need to set off my emergency beacon signal for the Rengard.” The Kantos would intercept it, so he and Finley would need to evade them until the Rengard arrived. “The temple is the highest point. We’ll climb up there, and I’ll activate the beacon.”
She nodded, her face set. “Let’s do it.”
Once the swarm ship had moved into the distance, they darted out.
“Look,” she said.
She pointed at stairs cut into the cliff face, leading to the temple. They hurried closer.
“I hear a swarm ship,” he said.
There was a ruined stone archway nearby. They ducked down, just as the ship roared overhead. He saw it land several streets away.
Cren.
“Stay low.” Hunched over, they ran toward the stairs.
There was a buzzing sound in the air, and he knew that Kantos soldiers were close.
Finley’s eyes went wide.
He pulled her behind a transport. It was abandoned, with the door open like a person had just left it.
He pressed his fingers to his lips.
There was a crunching sound. He glanced through the transport windows and saw two Kantos soldiers step into view. He stiffened.
Something touched his boot and he looked down to see a bright-green lizard. It licked his boot, then looked up at him with huge, dark eyes.
He nudged it to go away, and it froze. Its legs were sticking out and its skin changed color to blend in with the transport.
Finley made a sound, and he realized that she was trying not to laugh. The creature had frozen with its leg stuck in the air, so it didn’t blend in very well.
The small thing did look pretty comical.
The creature glanced at Finley, and it changed to a pink color.
Then they heard the Kantos getting closer, and the lizard dived into Finley’s lap.
Chapter Seventeen
Finley held her breath. The Kantos soldiers were right on the other side of the archway.
The little lizard quivered. She stroked it. It seemed friendly, and it was a cute little thing.
“They’re gone.” Sabin rose and pulled her up with him.
The lizard scrambled up and perched on her shoulder.
They hurried over to the stairs, and started up the stone-cut steps.
Oh, man. Soon she was huffing and puffing, her lungs burning.
Sabin was perspiring. He didn’t complain, but his face was swollen, and horrible bruises were forming. She wished they could figure out a way to free his helian.
“I need…a rest,” she said. Really, she wanted him to rest.
He nodded and they stopped in a small alcove cut into the rock. There was a carved bench seat there. She imagined that pilgrims heading up to the temple used the spot to rest.
They had an excellent view of the city. It must have been beautiful before its destruction. There were so many fountains, pools of water, and narrow channels joining them. It must have been amazing when the fountains and pools were running.
“It looks pretty from up here.”
“The C’addonites were known for their temples, rituals, and festivals to worship their goddesses.”
“Those poor people.”
Sabin leaned heavily against the rock wall. Finley rose and went to him. “How are you doing?”
He gave a curt nod.
She touched him, hating that he was in pain.
“Your friend likes you,” he said.
The lizard darted out from her hair. It was now yellow with blue stripes.
“If only he could fight off the Kantos,” she said.
“Let’s keep climbing.”
After that, it became one foot in front of the other. Finley’s thigh muscles burned. She glanced down. The city lay far below. Movement caught her eye on the ground, and she realized it was Kantos patrols.
Searching for them.
They kept moving upward and finally crested the top of the stairs.
“No more stairs.” Yay.
Ahead lay the spire of the temple. The main body of the temple was ruined. It looked like it had been hit by laser fire. What was left of the white-stone walls was covered with scorch marks.
The people who’d lived here didn’t deserve this. Earth didn’t deserve this.
Sabin pulled out a small device that was hidden under his armor. It looked like a large coin, with a blue light on top.
“Let’s get the beacon activated,” he said.
They moved inside the part of the temple that was still standing. It was quiet and shadowed, and more skeletons lay inside, resting against the wall.
Her heart clenched. Rest in peace.
They moved up some circular stairs, heading up to the top of the spire.
When they reached the top, the wind tugged at Finley’s hair and her lizard friend buried himself against her neck. Sabin pressed the beacon against the rock wall and pressed something on the device to activate it.
Beep.
“Now we need to hide.” He frowned. “The Kantos will track the signal and come after us.”
They hurried back down the stairs and headed back toward the rock-cut steps. But she heard noises down below and gasped.
Kantos soldiers were racing up the stone steps.
Sabin cursed. “There must be other paths.”
They headed back past the temple, circling a sunken pool and fountain.
“There.” She pointed at another path leading down to the city.
Suddenly, Finley heard
a flap of sound in the air. A Kantos assassin landed between them and the second set of stairs.
She stepped back. Another assassin landed behind them.
Shit.
The lizard on her shoulder froze.
Sabin attacked the first assassin. The pair whirled and kicked at each other.
But she could see Sabin was slower than usual, his injuries zapping his energy. The assassin landed a hard kick, and Sabin staggered backward.
No.
“I’ll keep him busy,” he yelled. “Get to the stairs.”
“I’m not leaving you!”
The other assassin screeched.
“Your life means everything to me,” Sabin said. “Please.”
The air whooshed out of her. “Sabin.” She couldn’t leave him behind.
“Get to the stairs!”
He was planning to sacrifice himself for her.
“No.” She crouched and grabbed a hunk of rock from the rubble.
Sabin growled. “Stubborn Terran.”
“Yes, but I’m your stubborn Terran.”
One of the assassins attacked him.
Finley turned to face the second one.
It advanced on her, its wings outstretched.
She ignored her fear. It flew at her, and she whacked it with the rock. Her lizard friend darted onto her back. She hit the Kantos assassin again.
She felt claws rake her spacesuit, but the fabric protected her. She hit it again.
Suddenly, the assassin flew into the air, hovering. She threw the rock.
It hit the creature’s wing, hitting a small bone. She heard it snap. With a screech, it crashed over the side of the cliff.
“Yes! Sabin—” She spun and froze.
He was collapsed on the ground, not moving. The other assassin was nearby, ready and waiting.
Her chest locked. “Sabin? Sabin, get up!”
He didn’t move.
The assassin advanced.
Finley lifted her chin. Then with a cry, she charged. She was so damn tired of being afraid. She lowered her head and tackled the assassin, and they hit the dirt together.
“Why won’t you just leave us alone?” She smacked her elbow into its head. “I won’t be your damn prey anymore.”
It threw her off and rose into the air.
She hit the ground with an oof and rolled. She almost fell into a sunken pool nearby.
She turned, and saw the assassin looking at the spire.
It must be searching for the beacon. No, you don’t, asshole.
“Look over here, you ugly bug.”
Those multifaceted eyes turned her way.
“I’m going to find a way to kill you,” Finley said.
It let out a screech.
“But first, you get away from my man.”
The assassin flew at her. She ducked, and one of its claws tangled in her hair.
Ow. She pulled free, tearing hair loose as she did.
She had to get to Sabin.
“Sabin.” She slid to her knees beside him. “Sabin.”
He groaned. He was alive, thank God.
She gripped his shoulder. “We have a Kantos assassin to kill, and soldiers incoming.”
He pushed up onto his knees. He was so shaky, his face ghost white.
The assassin hovered nearby, watching them steadily.
“You get to the stairs,” Sabin ground out.
“No.”
He shook his head. “Despite your stubbornness, I’m falling in love with you, Finley.”
Oh, God. “Sabin…” Her chest was tight; she couldn’t breathe.
She helped him up and together they faced the assassin.
“I will keep you safe.” He squeezed her hand. “It’s my duty, my honor.” Jaw tight, Sabin rushed toward the assassin.
No. Finley sucked in a breath. He launched himself at the alien.
He launched up, grabbed the assassin’s scaly feet and yanked it to the ground. Then assassin and warrior attacked each other.
It was a vicious fight, both of them taking blows.
Finley bit her lip. She had to find a way to help him.
Then Sabin leaped onto the assassin. He gripped its flapping wings.
His gaze met hers. “Be safe, Finley. Be strong.”
With a hard shove, he knocked the assassin off its feet. Together, they fell over the cliff edge. Sabin dropped, taking the assassin with him. He kept its wings from flaring out.
No! Finley couldn’t breathe. She stared at the empty space where Sabin had been. The lizard turned in agitated circles on her shoulder. She raced to the edge and looked down.
The assassin and Sabin lay crumpled on the ground below.
So far down.
Tears welled in her eyes and her throat closed.
“Sabin.” She ran for the stairs.
Sabin couldn’t move.
With a groan, he lifted his head. His body was a massive throb of agony. He was lying on a flat, stone area ringed by fountains and narrow channels of water.
He was bleeding; he smelled it, felt it. The life was flowing out of him.
He rolled and bit back a groan. He panted through the pain as his vision swam. He sucked in air. His legs wouldn’t move.
Where was Finley? She had to be okay. The Rengard would come, and she’d be safe.
He heard a low noise and glanced over. The crumpled assassin lay nearby, its legs and wings broken from the fall.
Painfully, Sabin dragged himself closer. The assassin saw him, and tried to slash out with its claws.
Sabin grabbed the Kantos and wrestled it. He felt claws rake his side. He got the assassin in a chokehold and then pulled back with all his strength.
As the Kantos died, it thrashed, but Sabin held on.
Then the alien slumped.
Panting, Sabin rolled onto his back. His gaze was blurry, but he could make out the blue sky and the spire on the mountain above.
Then he heard running footsteps.
Finley’s face appeared in front of his.
“God. Sabin.” She cupped his face.
He saw the lizard, now a brilliant purple, dart across her shoulders.
Her face twisted. “Don’t move.”
He drew in a breath and heard it rattle. “Fin-ley.”
She bit her lip, tears running down her cheeks. “You’re going to be okay.”
They both knew that was a lie. He was dying. He could feel his body shutting down.
“Love…you.”
She closed her eyes and leaned over him, pressing her forehead to his. “I love you, too. I’m not going to let you leave me. You think I’m perfect. You love me. I need you, Sabin.”
The lizard leaped onto his chest and they ignored it.
“You’re…strong,” he said.
“Please, Sabin.”
There was noise nearby and her head jerked up.
The lizard squeaked and dived into Finley’s hair.
“Finley?” Sabin said.
The color drained from her face. “Bugs. A whole group of them.” She swallowed. “They’re smallish, cat-sized, with sharp teeth.”
Sabin howled inside. He couldn’t protect her. He tried to sit up.
“No.” She pressed a hand to his chest. She followed it with a light kiss. “I’m going to protect you, this time.”
He could see she was afraid, but she was trying to hide it.
“Smart,” he said. “Use…that brain of yours.”
Finley tried not to panic. Seeing Sabin so hurt was bad enough, but seeing those bugs coming was really bad.
“Think, Finley, think.”
Her lizard friend was agitated, and it leaped to the ground. He moved to the first channel of water, squeaked, and darted back toward her. It was very agitated. Next, it moved over to a fountain. It made frantic moves again and Finley shifted closer. She smelled something.
She knelt, one eye on the hovering bugs. The water had a shimmering gleam to it.
She frowned
and touched it. It was sticky. She sniffed it.
It wasn’t water. It was some sort of oil. She looked at the connected fountains and channels. They were all filled with oil.
Her thoughts turned. The fountains and channels snaked all around. Sabin was lying in the center of a circular channel.
Bugs hated fire.
She spun. Damn, she had no way to light the oil. The bugs moved closer, and now, she heard a buzzing in the air. She glanced over and saw Kantos soldiers coming closer, as well.
Every muscle in her stomach tied into knots.
Sabin groaned. Dammit, she would protect the man she loved.
She saw some rocks that had clearly fallen from the cliff. She snatched up two of them. She’d fight for the people who’d died here, as well as for her and Sabin’s survival.
“You will not be forgotten,” she whispered furiously.
She grabbed the rocks and leaned over the oil. She struck them together.
Nothing happened.
She kept trying. Crap, this always seemed easy in the movies.
The lizard darted closer, its big eyes wide. It was changing colors rapidly, obviously afraid.
A bug moved closer, on the opposite side of one of the oil channels. It was watching them carefully.
Tears of frustration filled Finley’s eyes. “Come on.”
She did a huge strike and the tiniest spark flared before it was gone. She hadn’t gotten it anywhere near the oil.
This wasn’t going to work.
Her shoulders slumped and a tear rolled down her cheek.
She’d failed again.
She wasn’t perfect, or clever, or brave. Sabin would pay the price, like Brent and Melody had.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Sabin’s face was turned toward her. He held out a hand, his face twisted into a grimace. She saw that there was blood under him, smeared on the stone.
She wanted to crawl to him and hold him tight.
She tried striking the rocks again.
The lizard cocked its head, watching.
She managed another tiny spark and gasped. But it petered out as well, and the bugs were getting very close now.
“No, dammit,” she cried.
The lizard moved closer and its skin turned red. Then it turned his head and opened his mouth.
Flames shot out.
Holy cow. She jerked backward and fell on her ass.