Neron Skies: A Space Fantasy Romance (The Neron Rising Saga Book 2)

by Keary Taylor

  Copyright © 2018 Keary Taylor

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  First Edition: December 2018

  Book design by Inkstain Design Studio

  Cover art by Eddy Shinjuku

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Taylor, Keary, 1987-

  Neron Skies (Neron Rising Saga) : an episode / by Keary Taylor. – 1st ed.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  About the Author

  Blood Descendants Universe

  The Fall Of Angels Trilogy

  Three Heart Echo

  The Eden Trilogy

  The Mccain Saga

  What I Didn’t Say

  The vendor looks at me with a suspicious side-eye. His gaze shifts back to the group behind me. They stand there, looking wind-blown and sun-dried. Our skin is caked with dirt and sand, our lips are cracked and peeling.

  We’re a mess.

  “We’re not from around here,” I state, looking the ugly man straight in the eye. “Which is obviously why we need these.”

  He looks at me again, but grunts the total. I extend my wrist, paying the credits.

  “Thank you,” I say through clenched teeth as I take the clothing from the counter, giving him an annoyed look. I turn, distributing the items to everyone in our runaway group.

  Zayne, Reena, my father, and I slip the hooded robes over our heads and step back out into the street.

  Apparently, Stippe is nice on the other side of the planet. But the Frank our ship came with didn’t take landscape into consideration when he landed us on this planet. He detected commerce and civilization and touched down on the side closest to our descent.

  This side of the planet is non-stop wind, high temperatures, and lots and lots of sand.

  We landed a kilometer outside of the town to not draw too much attention. The Corsair is beautiful. A ship like it draws questions.

  We left the Frank to guard it.

  So, we had to make the walk through the wind and pounding sand to reach the town and this rudimentary market.

  I slip the hood over my head, grateful for it. It’s thin fabric, but it’s stiff, so it holds its form and has a sheer net that cascades down in front of my face so I can see. It drapes down past my neck, covering much of my chest.

  Guarded against the elements now, we head down the street.

  I’m trying not to have an anxiety attack. I feel so exposed. My entire life, all I’ve ever known are towering skyscrapers. I’ve never been able to see farther than twenty feet, until the next towering building.

  But here, it’s rolling hills of sand and wide, tan skies for as far as I can see.

  It’s overwhelming and incredible at the same time.

  “I vote we get some food first,” Zayne pipes up. “After nine days of rationed Korpillion food, I think I’m ready to see the offerings of the southern desert pole of Stippe.”

  I nod in agreement. No one complains as we follow our noses down the lane and find a shop advertising the best food in town.

  We push open the tent flaps and step inside. The floor is sand, drug inside from the street. The dust is thick in the air, but it smells like spices and some kind of protein, and it makes my mouth water.

  We order whatever the cook wants to bring us and tuck ourselves into a table at the far back of the tent.

  “Think anywhere on this planet has a shower?” Zayne asks, running his hands through his sandy hair.

  I understand what he means. Our ship has a good supply of water, but it also has the latest technology in recycling every drop, from the moisture in our breath, to the run off from the showers, to the urine our bodies produce.

  It’s hard to feel clean, knowing where the water came from, even if it has been filtered and cleaned.

  “You’ve just been showered for nearly an hour with sand,” I say, looking toward the kitchen as my stomach growls. “I think we’re entirely new desert creatures now. Who needs water?”

  He and my father chuckle, but Reena doesn’t even crack a smile. She might be on the run with us, but she still doesn’t like me.

  The food is brought to our table, and my stomach gives a ravenous growl.

  It smells real. It smells organic. It smells fresh.

  I shove the first bite into my mouth and nearly moan at the explosion of flavor. It’s some kind of meat, real, from an animal, I’d guess. It’s doused in spices. There’s some sort of root vegetable, and I just know it was grown in the ground. There’s another vegetable, something juicy and a little sweet and savory.

  “Is this what real food tastes like?” Zayne demands in surprise. His eyes are wide, and he keeps his mouth open just slightly, because the food is piping hot and burning my mouth, too. “What the void have we been eating on Korpillion?”

  “Processed, engineered, soot-tainted garbage.” Reena says the words without thinking as she, too, lays into the meal on her plate.

  My father doesn’t even say anything. He lets his eyes slide closed as he slowly chews, obviously enjoying every single bite.

  “We’re supplying from here,” Zayne says, pointing at the kitchen. “None of that pre-packed stuff. We’re having them space freeze a whole solar’s worth of meals to get us all the way to the G sector.”

  I laugh, shaking my head at his enthusiasm, because it’s obviously not going to happen, but I feel the same way.

  Stippe might be a desert wasteland outside this tent, who knew there would be such amazing food inside? What other kinds of food might we discover on other planets if the food here tastes this good to a few refugees from Korpillion?

  “I think we should stay on-planet for the night,” I say, swallowing another steaming hot bite. “We need to take our time and make sure we get all the supplies we need so we don’t have to stop for a while. I’m sure we can find a place to stay in town. If not, we’ll go back and sleep on the ship.”

  “Slam the G sector,” Zayne says around a huge mouth full of food. “I vote we just spend the rest of our lives eating food from every Dominion-free planet in the galaxy.”

  “Typical man,” Reena says as she pops another bite into her mouth. “So easily ruled by his stomach.”

  “Does your mouth not feel alive for the very first time, ever?” he counters, looking at her with wide eyes.

  It actually happens. Reena cracks a small smile. But she doesn’t say anything, just looks back at her food and takes another bite.

  I talk to the cook. I ask him how many meals he can get space-frozen for us by tomorrow evening. He says he can pre-cook four weeks’ worth of meals for the four of us. But only if I pre-pay for them now.

  It’s a risk. But things aren’t nearly as expensive on Stippe as they were on Korpillion. And I have over three million credits in my account now. I agree and pay the man.

  “You still don’t know who gave you the ship or
the credits?” my father asks as we walk down the street when we’re done eating and dealing.

  My stomach twists in a knot. “No,” I lie.

  I hate lying. But how could he ever understand the complexity of the situation between Valen and I when I don’t really even understand it myself? How could I ever tell him the only Nero in the galaxy helped me, when he just helped kill so many people on Korpillion?

  “I don’t understand,” Torin says, shaking his head. “Who has that kind of money? And why you?”

  “I don’t know, Dad,” I say, looking for a shop to go into, just as a distraction, for a change of subject. “Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was meant to go to someone else and I just got lucky.”

  I glance over at my dad, and I’m relieved that his eyes lighten a bit. There’s a look of dawning in his eyes, like that explanation makes total sense.

  “Of course,” he says, nodding his head. “It is a terrible thing that the intended recipient didn’t escape when they were supposed to. But I cannot say that I am ungrateful.”

  My stomach twists a little more.

  That money and that ship made it to its exact intended recipient. I escaped just as soon as I possibly could.

  “Me, too,” I say, offering my dad a little, thin-lipped smile. But I have to look away, because I hate lying to my dad, even though I’ve done so much of it in the past six lunars.

  In the heart of town there is an inn. They only have three rooms left, and Dad took a key before he found that out, and Reena gave me one dark look, daring me to make her share with anyone, and took off with her key.

  Which left me and Zayne sharing.

  Great.

  Together, we climb the narrow steps up to the second floor. We pass by four other rooms before coming to the one that matches the number on our key. I unlock the door, and without saying anything, we step inside.

  I put my packages on the desk just inside the room, filling the whole tabletop. I picked up some clothing, some artisan soaps and skin salves, and some genuine leather boots.

  “You can take the bed,” Zayne says as he closes the door behind us.

  I turn, seeing that there is only one bed. It’s larger than my bunk on the ship or the one I had back on Korpillion. It would fit two people, but only people who want to snuggle.

  I’m about to argue, to say that’s stupid. We can sleep next to each other like two regular people. But he slips into the washroom before I can say anything.

  It’s his lucky day. I hear water running and then the sound of it hitting a body.

  I sink onto the bed, exhausted. I kick my boots off, letting them scatter more sand across the already sandy floor. Flopping back, I let my arm rest across my eyes.

  I doubt I’ll get much sleep tonight. If Zayne is pressed so close up against me, I’m going to smell his skin. I’m going to feel it. I’m going to remember.

  I’m going to remember how sweet and flirtatious he was when he got transferred to my quadrant. I’m going to remember how he surprised me with a vat of mechanical grease one day—not romantic in the least, but thoughtful, considering my job. I’m going to remember how he nervously asked me to go with him to the musical screening over the weekend.

  I’m going to remember our first kiss in the dark at the screening.

  I’m going to remember the feeling of his hand on my lower back.

  On my neck. His fingers in my hair.

  His lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth.

  I’m going to remember how his body felt against mine.

  Lying here in the dying light, I contemplate.

  I changed my life and began making Neron weapons because I was bored. I became reckless and stepped into illegal circles because I couldn’t stand the thought of my life forever staying the same, day after day.

  But it’s all changed now.

  I’m not even on the same planet anymore.

  I’m never going back.

  Zayne and I ended because of all that stuff before.

  Do our new circumstances change anything?

  I hear the door open, and I pretend I’m already asleep. But through the dim, nearly dark light, I stare at Zayne, watching as he digs through his own packages to grab some clothes.

  I may still be attracted to Zayne. His face hasn’t changed, his body is still the same one that drew me in nearly two solars ago.

  But I study the serious expression on his face. I can see the weight on his shoulders. And I know.

  We’re different people now.

  He may still think he’s in love with me, that maybe someday we will find our way back into each other’s arms. But I am not the same girl I was a solar ago. I am no longer the woman he thinks I am.

  We can’t go back.

  I let my eyes slide closed again, keeping my breathing deep and even. But through the dark of the weight of my arm against my eyes, I make out other dark shapes.

  Dark pants. Boots and buckles. A black hood and a dark mask.

  Black hair.

  But vivid blue eyes.

  I’m not the same person I was a solar ago.

  I don’t even know who or what I am anymore.

  But there is one person in the galaxy who does. And because I let myself trust him, I don’t know if I can ever trust myself again.

  Fully supplied and stocked, we take back to the skies, speeding past the moons of Stippe, and then their sun is long behind us.

  We have enough supplies on board to last us a lunar. We will make it clear to the Q sector before we need to stop again.

  The Frank puts in the coordinates and autopilots the ship.

  A week into the journey, I find myself on the command deck, looking out at the stars. A meteor shower is going on just out from us, and I watch with fascination.

  Occasionally I’d be able to see stars from Korpillion, but not often. The lights on the planet are so bright, the sky above just looks like a dark blue haze.

  But out here, there is an endless supply of stars and moons.

  The door to the living quarters opens and out steps Reena. When she sees the observation deck is already occupied, she hesitates. She was looking for solitude, but must not care enough to turn back. She takes a seat behind the inactive Frank.

  “It’s so quiet out here,” she says, propping her feet up on the seat across from her. “I still can’t get used to it. I haven’t slept well since we left Korpillion.”

  “The mines were awfully loud,” I say with a little nod.

  “Not just the mines though, the entire planet,” she says, looking out the view port. “So much motion, so many people. They all create noise. But out here…”

  “It’s so still,” I say. And I feel it. We may be rocketing through space, but everything around us is still. Peaceful. Quiet.

  Reena nods. We’re quiet for a while, just looking out at the endless space.

  “Did you know?” she asks after a few long minutes.

  “Know what?” I ask without looking at her.

  “That you’re a Nero.”

  Her words rip my eyes from their gaze out the window, back to her.

  She said the words so simply. So calmly. Like they don’t mean anything life-changing.

  “I’m not a Nero,” I say, dragging my eyes back to the window, forcing myself to not look at her.

  “I saw you, Nova,” she says. “I saw you keep those rocks from falling on you. They would have killed you. But you raised your hands, and all the Neron in the air gathered around you and prevented those rocks from crushing you.”

  I refuse to say anything, to look at her.

  It doesn’t feel real now. It feels like a dream I had.

  “You wouldn’t be able to do what you did unless you were like him.”

  Him.

  The last Nero.

  Valen Nero.

  “I’m nothing like him,” I say the words in a quiet hiss.

  My chest aches. My heart hurts. I want… I feel…

  I shove whatever is insi
de me down, deep down.

  “Why did he help you escape?” Reena asks. She keeps pushing, but in that quiet, calm, collected, elegant way of hers. She doesn’t like me, but she hasn’t exposed me to my father or Zayne yet. But she wants to press me until I squirm.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, still refusing to look at her.

  She’s quiet for a moment. I’m aware of the gears turning in her head, putting things together, making assumptions, trying to figure this puzzle out.

  “Lies will only leave you feeling alone,” she says. She rises to her feet, preparing to leave. But she hesitates and I feel her eyes on me. “Lying to yourself, worst of all. No one and nothing in this galaxy is black and white, Nova. Don’t punish yourself with that belief.”

  I press the back of my knuckles to my lips, trying to pretend like I didn’t hear her. I keep staring at the stars as she walks back to the door, leaving me alone.

  Emotions pool in my eyes as her words keep echoing back to me, over and over again.

  Alone. Alone.

  I feel so alone.

  In my mind, I search for that door. And it’s there. I don’t think either of us could destroy it, even if we tried.

  But it’s shut right now.

  Black and white. Reena is right. I want to push that door open, and I don’t, with every fiber of my being.

  I haven’t spoken to Valen since he told me about the Bahiri. He hasn’t tried to contact me since then, and I haven’t reached out either.

  I feel it in my brain, this hesitance.

  Neither of us knows what to say.

  I still don’t.

  Sitting alone in the command deck, I look around. I’m still alone, alone as ever.

  I bring my hand up in front of me. My palm up, my fingers lightly gathered together.

  I let my senses reach out. It’s like letting out a breath that travels to every nook and cranny on this ship. I search. I touch space around me.

  My eyes slide closed for a moment, because I feel it.

  The energy that exists in the air. I feel the life, in everything. I feel the existence of a million solars of being. I feel an electric spark.

  Come to me, I think. Air breathes out over my lips, but the words don’t actually form.