Maeve cocked her head to one side. Calib hadn't said but a few sentences to her, but the voice he was using now was markedly different than before. The rough dialect he had used, punctuated by a noticeable twang that almost resembled a New Zealand accent, had vanished. “I'll call them off when you explain who the hell you really are.”
“I'd like to know that as well,” Rahne said, stepping forward, Davin at his side. The lyraxes growled at them, but a quick thought-command their way turned their focus back onto Calib. “You said you'd been with Elzor for two years. Was that a lie?”
“No, that was true,” he said, holding his hands in front of him as he warily eyed the lyraxes. “It was a simple matter to infiltrate the Barjan militia. Convincing men like Elzor and Kalik of my loyalty, on the other hand, was another matter entirely.”
“ 'Infiltrate'?” Maeve said. “You're a spy?”
“Yes,” he said. “My name is Rabin. I'm a captain in the Daradian army. I was sent by King Aridor to investigate rumors of mass slaughter, slavery, and other crimes perpetrated by Viceroy Callis of Barju.”
Maeve lowered her gun, but only slightly. She recognized the names Aridor and Callis thanks to a conversation she'd had with Kelia about the political structure of Elystra. “Go on.”
“My mission was supposed to last only half a year. I was to return to Darad to report Callis' crimes to my king. Unfortunately, I found myself caught up in Elzor's rebellion. Before I knew it, I was fleeing the country with him. Now can you please call your beasts off?”
“Not yet. Just keep your hands where I can see them.” Her eyes shot to Rahne. “Rahne, move over next to him.”
“Me?” he said, aghast.
She waggled the pistol at him, and he grudgingly joined Rabin, shooting Maeve a stink-eye.
“Mom, what are you doing?” Davin asked, moving up alongside her. “They're on our side!”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” She took a step forward, straight-arming her weapon at the two men. “I have a shite-load of questions for you two, but I don't have time to ask them right now. So you'll be locked in our crew quarters until I can interrogate you properly.”
“You're taking us prisoner?” Rahne asked.
“It's either that or I leave you here with my furry friends. Decide. Quickly.”
The two men exchanged a worried glance, then Rabin replied. “We'll come with you.”
“Wise choice.” Keeping the two men covered, Maeve turned her attention to Roisin. The enormous lyrax was sitting on her haunches, gazing at her with what she swore was bemusement. “Thank you for your help,” she said softly. “We owe you our lives.”
Roisin tilted her head to one side. You go now?
Yes, Maeve answered with her mind. We go now.
Pack-sisters hurt.
Maeve looked at the two wounded lyraxes, lying still with arrows protruding from their bodies. They still breathed and would die without her help.
I will heal them. Then we will go.
Roisin nodded her huge head in acknowledgment. Hunt well, two-leg sister.
Maeve smiled as Roisin and the others loped away, disappearing into the darkness. She sensed they didn't go far, stopping a short distance away while they waited for her to heal their wounded.
“Listen up, Dav,” she said, rounding on her son. “First, lock these two in the crew quarters. Then, lower the cargo ramp and drive the excavator back in the hold. Got it?”
He nodded.
“Where are the personal transporters?” she asked.
“Still in the chavas' saddlebags, I think.”
“Get them. They might come in handy.”
“Will do.” Davin pointed to the cave. “What about Runa?”
“I have to fire up the engines first. That'll –”
“You sure the Stone won't muck with the ship?” Davin interrupted.
“No, it only farks with Jegg technology, remember?”
“Ah. Right.”
“Anyway, it'll take twenty minutes before we can leave. I'll use that time to heal the lyraxes and bring Runa aboard.” She handed him the pistol, jerking her head at Rahne and Rabin. “If they try anything, shoot 'em in the foot.”
Both men cocked a confused yet skeptical eyebrow.
* * *
Neither Rahne nor Rabin objected as Davin led them up the ramp and into the Talon. Maeve collected the Stone, using her Wielding to heal the wounded lyraxes. They yelped as she removed the arrows from their bodies, but she was able to seal the wounds without much effort. Both of them cast grateful glances her way before strutting off to join the rest of their pack. Within seconds, their footfalls had receded into the distance. Bile rose in her throat at the thought of what they would do to the fallen soldiers' bodies.
She shook her head. No time to think about that now.
It took many long minutes to help Runa from the cave onto the ship. Further examination revealed a fractured tibia, likely sustained when she fell from Tal's back, and numerous lacerations on her face and arms. She lowered the tall huntress gently into the copilot's chair in the Talon's cockpit, using both her healing and another ampoule of pain-blocker to seal her wounds and numb her pain. Runa gave Maeve a tired smile and a thankful nod as Maeve strapped her into the chair. “Trust me, you'll need this,” Maeve said. Runa didn't object, lowering her head onto her chest.
By the time Maeve had plotted a course back to the Ixtrayu village, Davin had parked and secured the excavator back in the hold and joined them in the cockpit.
As a pilot, at the controls of a spacecraft was where she felt the most comfortable. Usually, the vibrations caused by the thrum of the engines gave Maeve comfort. Not this time. She'd taken lives this night. More than that, she'd led Runa and Davin straight into a trap, and the Ixtrayu could be under siege at that instant. Her new family could be dead or dying at that very moment.
Return to me soon, my love, Kelia's voice echoed in her mind.
Maeve fought back tears as she activated the Talon's engines. Slowly, majestically, the ship rose into the air, sending billows of dust in every direction and rippling the surface of the mountain lake she'd swam in, taken comfort in. Seen a naked Kelia bathing in.
“I'm coming, Kelia,” she muttered under her breath. “Please be safe … my love.” She spoke the final two words hesitantly. She expected them to sound meaningless and hollow as they made the journey from her mouth to her ears.
But they did not. They were real, and heartfelt, and true.
The Talon cleared the rim of the basin.
“Hang on, Dav!” she cried, pushing the throttle forward. “Pedal to the metal!”
With a roar of its thrusters, the ship rocketed eastward. Within seconds, the Kaberian Mountains were but a vague outline on the horizon behind them.
* * *
Maeve flew the Talon low to the ground, nearly skimming the surface of the Praskian Desert. At a speed of just over six hundred miles per hour, they would reach the Ixtrayu village soon. Davin had left the cockpit, making sure Rahne and Rabin had survived the takeoff uninjured.
Engaging the autopilot, Maeve stood, pulling the ammo clip from her pistol and counting the unspent bullets. Twelve left. She jammed the clip back in with an audible snick, donned the holster-belt she'd left atop a nearby console and slipped the gun inside. Next, she slid Ji-Yan's short-swords through the belt loops on the back of her waist-band and two more full clips into her front pockets.
The final piece to her ensemble was a thick, black, microfiber jacket. Lightweight and durable, the fabric was still dense enough to stop a high-caliber bullet or even a knife-thrust. She didn't like wearing it because it itched like crazy, but she wasn't going to take any chances. Inside three of the inner pockets, she slipped Calvin's concussion grenades. She snapped the jacket shut with a satisfied smile.
That done, she opened the box holding the Stone. Her eyes closed involuntarily as the warm tingle coursed through her body, invigorating her. She felt strong, determined.
/> I'll take out that whole farking army by myself if I have to.
She raised her head to see Runa watching her. The faintest of smiles played across the huntress's swollen face.
“What?” Maeve asked.
“I am sorry,” she said, her voice hushed.
“For …?”
“For what I said to you before. In the desert.”
Maeve waved dismissively. “Kelia's your best friend. You were just looking out for her.”
“I was there, you know.”
“Where?”
“When Ilora died.” Runa took several more breaths before continuing. “It nearly destroyed her. She'd lost her mother less than a year before, and had taken Onara's place as Protectress. It was all too much in such a short time. She came close to giving up, to renouncing her position.”
Runa averted her gaze, watching the miles fly by through the viewport. “For half a season she mourned Ilora, rejecting every gesture of love and support her sisters offered. Nyla was but an infant at the time, and Kelia often grew weary of her incessant wailing. Nothing I said or did seemed to make any difference.”
Maeve resumed her seat in the pilot's chair. “What happened?”
“She consulted Arantha, begging the divine goddess for guidance. She sat in that cave, alone, for an entire day. No one dared disturb her. Not the Council. Not even me. When she finally emerged, she'd … changed, somehow. Her strength, her resolve, which I thought had been lost forever, had returned.”
“Just like that?”
Runa nodded. “Whatever Arantha showed her, it was exactly what Kelia needed. And Kelia is exactly what the Ixtrayu need: a strong leader.”
Maeve leaned forward. “She never told you what she saw?”
“No. I asked, of course, but it's a secret she's kept to this day.” Runa, too, leaned forward, her eyes locking with Maeve's. “I think she saw you.”
“Me?” Maeve said, astonished.
“Well, not you, exactly, but … an impression of you. A promise of you. A reason for her to continue, to endure. To never give up hope that she would find love again.”
“That's a very romantic notion, but –”
Runa cut her off. “Maeve,” she whispered, physical discomfort leaking out through her facial muscles. “I was skeptical at first, but after what I just saw …” She shook her head. “No longer. You are strong, brave, and cunning. You are a Wielder, and a mother –”
“And an alien,” Maeve added. “And an emotional wreck, let's not forget that.”
“You are worthy of Kelia's love,” Runa said. “Stop trying to convince yourself otherwise.”
Maeve turned her chair, her gaze falling on the main computer screen. She felt the ship gain altitude as the flat expanse of desert gave way to rockier, hillier terrain, leveling at five hundred feet off the ground. They were eight minutes away from the Plateau.
She shoved thoughts of Kelia to the back of her mind. This was not what she needed to be thinking about now. Battle was imminent. Hopefully Elzor's army would tuck tail and run at the sight of the Talon bearing down on them, but if not? Two high-yield grenades and a few well-placed bullets would be enough to send them packing.
Davin entered the bridge, sitting in the chair by one of the rear consoles. “We almost there, Mom?”
“Uh huh,” Maeve said, her eyes glued to the viewport. “How are our guests?”
“Pretty pissed off. Can't say I blame them. But then, it's their first time riding in a spaceship, so I think they'll get over it.”
Maeve chuffed under her breath.
“I see the western outcropping,” Runa said, pointing.
Up ahead, approaching fast, was the crag of rock where Kelia had witnessed the Talon's first landing. Arantha had led her to that spot, three weeks ago.
Three weeks. She could scarcely believe it. Three short weeks since she, Davin, and Gaspar had fled Earth. They'd escaped one pawn of the Dark Player only to end up battling another.
Maeve switched off the autopilot and gently eased back on the thrusters, feeling the vibrations lessen as the ship decelerated. One final ridge to clear, and the Plateau would be within view.
Please, God, Arantha, Banikar, whoever might be up there watching, please let them be all right. Let us arrive in time to stop this. Let us –
Oh, no.
The Talon cleared the final ridge, and those within it got their first look at the Ixtrayan Plateau and the croplands that surrounded it. Or, rather, what was left of them.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“My Lady? My Lady!”
Elzaria felt a rough hand shaking her shoulder, which sent another arc of pain through her body. Her eyes snapped open, and she turned her head to glare at the armored man standing over her. His face bore a short, ugly beard and a scar above his left eyebrow. Two merychs stood nearby.
“Do not touch me, Nilrem,” she seethed, slapping his hand away. Clearing the cobwebs from her head, she lifted herself to a sitting position. Far to the west, the last rays of the sun provided enough light to survey the scene before her.
Kelia lay on her side several paces away, her eyes closed and her arm twisted awkwardly beneath her. Elzaria wondered if she'd killed the woman, but the slight movement of Kelia's chest indicated that she still breathed. The Ixtrayu around the entrance, as well as those she'd seen watching the battle from atop the plateau, lay unmoving. Elzaria waited for several moments, watching to see if any of them would stir, but they didn't.
She'd done it. At what cost, though? All her life, she had been unique and now there was someone who shared her abilities. Suddenly, she was no longer alone.
Waving away Nilrem's offered hand, Elzaria climbed painfully to her feet, wobbling on shaky legs before regaining her balance. She would definitely need a long, long rest after this.
Blinking away the last of her dizziness, Elzaria brushed several clods of mud from her clothes. The sun sat only slightly lower than when she blacked out, so she couldn't have been unconscious for more than thirty minutes.
A light rain had begun to fall. Not as heavy as before, but enough to put most of the fires out. The hiss of extinguishing flames filled the air, as did the smell of burnt wood and soggy ash. “Report,” she said.
“The two hundred men who attacked from the north are all dead, consumed by the fire,” Nilrem said with barely-controlled anger. “We estimate more than a hundred dead from the southern assault. The battle was still waging when your …” he waved noncommittally at her, “knocked all of our enemies out.”
“All of them?”
“Yes, My Lady.”
“Have you retrieved the Stone?”
“No. I wanted to make sure all resistance had been crushed before we claimed Lord Elzor's prize. I sent the rest of the Elzorath on their way, toward the Vandan border.” He cursed under his breath. “We've lost enough good soldiers today.”
She scowled at him. Nilrem's concern for his men's well-being apparently didn't extend to her. She'd secured their victory and nearly died in the process. “I'm fine, in case you were wondering.”
“My Lady, I didn't mean to suggest I was any less concerned for your welf—”
“Be silent, Nilrem, lest I use what energy I still have to shut you up for good!”
He bowed his head. “Yes, My Lady.”
“Come.” She staggered up the ramp. “Let us find the Stone and be gone from this place.”
With Nilrem trailing behind, Elzaria crossed the threshold, stepping over the mass of fallen bodies. Many of them were young, barely adults, but there were some older faces as well.
Her hands brushed the small pouch attached to the back of her belt, closing around it. She felt the power it gave off even in its dormant state, and as she touched it, it seemed to flare into life. An image implanted itself in her mind, that of a small cave, not far away.
“It's this way,” she said, moving through the village, which seemed devoid of life.
She glanced up and around at
the Ixtrayu village, carved into the very rock of the plateau. What a wondrous sight. It must have taken years, perhaps centuries to create such a place. Judging from the village's sheer size, it could easily serve as a home to several hundred people, far more than chose to oppose them today. The rest must have fled.
No matter.
As Elzaria and Nilrem approached the plateau's southern entrance, she noticed that the opening between the rocks had been covered by a solid sheet of ice. A large section of the river also lay iced over, further chilling the already cold air. Someone, perhaps Kelia, had used their Wielding to create it, to block the Elzorath from gaining access to the village. An effective measure, to be sure. With the weather turning cold, it would take a long time for the wall to thaw on its own. A dozen men hacking away with swords or clubs might break through in hours, but thankfully, that wouldn't be necessary.
Near the entrance, behind the ice wall, lay more bodies, sprawled on the ground where they'd fallen, bows and arrows scattered haphazardly around them. She couldn't help but look at their faces—those she could see, anyway. As at the northern entrance, the women, all clad in warrior garb, were an admixture of the young and the mature. Many of them lay face down, and one unfortunate body lay half-in, half-out of the river, her head submerged under the water. She wouldn't be coming up again.
Across the river, its narrow, dark opening beckoning her, was the cave. She crossed the sturdy bridge that spanned the frozen river and entered.
There it was, embedded in an altar of rock, a faint, white, soothing, almost peaceful glow emanating from its depths. The Agrusian Stone, which disappeared centuries ago. No, not disappeared; it had been here, in the hands of these women, all this time.
The glow intensified as she approached, and she felt the Stone at her hip throb and pulse with power, as if recognizing the presence of its equal.
“Interesting,” she muttered under her breath.
“My Lady?” came Nilrem's voice from behind her. She'd already forgotten he was there.
“Nothing,” she said through gritted teeth. “Just get the Stone.”
With gloved hands, Nilrem attempted to pull the Stone free from its rocky prison, but without success. Grunting, he removed his gloves and tried again, straining his muscles. After several seconds of futility, his shoulders slumped.
Queens (The Wielders of Arantha Book 2) Page 34