by Cheree Alsop
He spotted the gazebo they had shared many times beneath the blue holy moon. It lay unbroken, the ground around it cracked and twisted.
“There,” Gage directed Manax. “Set down by that structure.”
He was out of the Gull the moment it touched the ground. As soon as the rest of the crew joined him, he waved the Gull away.
“I see how it is,” Manax said into his headset. “Use me and then send me away. I think I know why Majoria’s mad at you.”
“Can we not focus on that right now?” Gage replied.
He led the way to the gazebo and around to the back where he found the spiral staircase he knew by heart. How many times had he followed her down it, his eyes closed and led by only her touch? He ducked into darkness again, this time caused by the rise of dust from the disturbance he hoped had not affected the crystal cavern beneath.
Gage’s steps slowed. He felt Yukan come up behind him.
“Give a Zamarian a warning when you’re going to stop, would you?” the man asked as the rest of the crew ran into his back.
Gage didn’t respond. His focus was on the ground below. Great glowing crystals from the ceiling had broken off and shattered, smashing the Balanelves who had sought shelter in the holy cave.
Gage knew what they had been thinking. The cavern had withstood the test of time. The ancient ones went there for spiritual enlightenment, royal weddings were held beneath the crystal spires, and babies were blessed in the water that fell from the roof, cleansed by its journey through the mountainside that surrounded Vi. They had gone to the holy chamber for protection, and instead it had betrayed them.
Gage couldn’t speak as he looked from body to body, searching for the one he knew had to be there. The King lay crushed beneath a massive crystal trunk with his first and second wives. The crown prince’s pale, slender form could be seen beneath another such crystal, his wife and child with him.
“Why here?” Yukan muttered as he stared at the bodies through his infrared goggles. The horror and sadness in his voice echoed the emotions that tightened Gage’s chest. “What were they thinking?”
“There was nowhere else,” Suye replied, her voice soft. “You saw the palace and the temple. They thought here of all places would be their best last resort.”
Vinian set a hand on a crystal that had broken in half near the staircase. “Slain by the objects they so trusted. It’s tragic.”
Gage glanced from one form to the next, barely lingering long enough to ensure she wasn’t there before he continued on. He spotted a hand and his heart skipped a beat. There, beside a crystal that had cracked in two, lay the beautiful form he knew so well. Her head was tipped away from him and he could see the pale blue blood that covered her even paler skin.
“Majoria,” he whispered.
He vaulted over the remaining stairs and dropped to his knees beside the Balanelf.
“Gage, the ground’s still shaking,” Yukan called out. “Take care.”
Gage didn’t hear him over the racing of his heart as he gently turned Majoria’s face toward him.
“Majoria,” he said, his voice soft. He set a hand lightly on her white cheek. He pulled, feeling for any sign of life.
Her eyelids fluttered and his breath caught. He pulled harder with desperation fueling him. Her eyes opened. Pain showed in her piercing blue irises. Gage felt it in his stomach, immediate and potentially fatal.
“G-Gage,” she managed to say.
“I’m getting you out of here,” he replied.
Chapter Fourteen
Gage ducked under the green sash on his arm and pressed it against the wound on Majoria’s stomach. Her hands clutched it as if she knew how close she was to bleeding out. Gage gathered her in his arms and was about to stand when hands stopped him.
“That’s why we’re here,” Klellen said.
Yukan nodded. “Step back, Captain. We don’t want to have to answer to Sienna when we get back up there.”
The Zamarian carefully lifted Majoria and carried her up the winding staircase. Halfway up, the ground shook again. The crew reached for the delicate railing that appeared barely able to support a Venus whisp, let alone people struggling not to be thrown victim to the crystals along with the Balanelves. Klellen and Suye helped Yukan remain standing. Majoria moaned in his arms. Her hands clutched the scarf tightly to her stomach.
As soon as the shaking stopped, Suye led the way up.
“Hurry!” she called. “Manax, bring the Gull!”
The ground heaved again before Gage reached the top. The spiral staircase shifted away from the gazebo opening. He looked down to see yellow and gold bubbling up from where the cavern floor had split; the liquid writhed beneath the crystals, absorbing them in clouds of putrid steam. The staircase tipped.
“Jump, Cap!” Vinian called out.
Gage looked up to see the Darfian crouched over the opening. The staircase tipped back, then plummeted forward toward the molten ground. Gage waited until the highest point and then jumped up toward Vinian’s hand. The Darfian caught him, his grip sure.
“That was too close,” Vinian said when he pulled him up.
“Yes, it was,” Gage replied. “Come on.”
They raced for the Gull.
“All of Vi. It’s heartbreaking,” Suye said as Manax steered them away from the surface.
Majoria gave a weak cry. A blue blood tear rolled down her cheek from eyelids that were closed tightly against the pain. Gage put a hand on her forehead and closed his eyes.
“Captain?” Klellen said with worry in his voice.
“Just enough to ease her pain,” he replied. “If I don’t, she could die of shock before we even reach the Kratos.”
He had never been good at pulling the way his sister did. She could brush someone’s arm in passing and take away all of the doubt, worry, and heartache for that brief moment and then just smile at them as if she had no idea why being near her filled them with such a breath of relief. She had often told him what to do, guiding him as she eased the suffering of a firrel with broken leg while she set it, or brought a freezing reacheep in from the cold to warm bundled up in front of the heater.
Gage had succeeded only barely at these endeavors and she had been proud of him, praising him the way a younger sister does, her face shining as she looked up at her older brother with pride. He shook his head then as he did now, knowing that he was leagues away from her abilities.
“Quiet your cares,” he heard her familiar words whisper in his mind the way she used to when they were younger. “The worries of today are fleeting. Pain is different. It’s deeper, a form of knowledge the body takes on when something isn’t right. You have to speak to that knowledge, ease it, pull it into yourself because you are strong enough to stand it and allow the one you touch to rest and heal if only for a little while. Accept the pain. Don’t tense with it or it could overwhelm you just as easily as the person you help.”
Gage let out a slow breath. The calm was something he always struggled to find, and in the bumpy flight of the space-to-land craft and the sounds of his crewmates as they watched the destruction below, there was plenty to cause him tension. He had always been able to find it in battle, which Mattie didn’t understand. It was something his mother said she experienced, a lulling of external cares because the body knew what it was supposed to do, and in that there was the peace of understanding that whatever happened, you were as ready for it as you could be.
For the first time, Gage allowed his body to feel the same calm on the nerve-wracked flight back to the Kratos. He allowed himself to accept that whatever happened, he was prepared for it. He could take her pain, he would do whatever was necessary to help her fight for survival, and if the worst happened, he was ready for it because he would do everything in his power to save her.
The outside world fell away. Gage’s thoughts focused with an intensity that surprised him. Everything pinpointed on the touch of his hand resting on her forehead. He concentrated and that pus
hed deepened, moving through her forehead into her body. He felt her heart beating, sending her blue Balanelf blood through her body. Yet her body knew something was wrong. The veins were constricting and the heart was pumping too fast in an effort to compensate for the limited blood in her system. Her nerves were firing too quickly as shock threatened to take over.
Gage found her stomach wound. It was a raw internal mess where she had been thrown into a broken crystal before she fell to the floor. There was a jagged, gaping wound along the right side. He felt Suye’s three hands pressing the scarf to it. The Artidus had also added bandages from the medical kit in the Kratos, but despite her efforts, Gage could feel the blood pouring out, staining the bandages and taking Majoria’s chances at survival along with it.
He searched the inside of the wound. The organs closest to it were damaged. Gashes and bruises showed the source of the true danger to the Balanelf’s life. He gathered his energy and sent it through his fingers, guiding it to her organs. He knew the dangers. Mattie had put her life on the line more than once trying to heal those beyond her abilities.
“You’ll feel that moment where life can no longer compete against the welcoming embrace of death. Sometimes the body is either too injured, too exhausted, or too tired to keep on fighting. The hardest part is accepting that and letting go before it’s too late.”
Gage worked slowly, sending energy to the organs damaged furthest from the wound and easing his way forward. Some edges healed quickly beneath his guidance; others were complicated, struggling to piece back together.
“We’ve reached the Kratos,” Klellen told him quietly. “Cisco and Sienna are on standby.”
Gage didn’t respond. He could feel the danger of stopping. She needed him to heal the places the medics couldn’t touch. He kept his eyes closed and guided his energy further.
Her body tensed, her muscles tightened at the pain of the healing that compounded the hurt of her wounds. He could feel her agony heightening. Her heart stuttered.
Gage drew in slowly as he pushed out. It was a strange sensation, sending healing energy into her body while he pulled her pain into his own. His breath caught and his muscles tightened, but he allowed the pain to seep into him, clotting in his stomach where her organs were damaged, stealing his energy where hers had been waning.
Her stomach responded to the withdrawal of pain. It used his push to focus the energy where it was needed most, healing the bruises and lacerations deep inside and slowing the flow of blood.
“Gage, you have to let go!”
Sienna’s voice reached through the healing fog in his mind.
“Gage, let me take over. You’ve done enough,” she urged.
There was a moment of uncertainty when Gage realized he didn’t know how to let go. Mattie had always talked about putting healing energy in and pulling away the pain, but she had never explained how to reverse the flow; they had never gotten that far.
The pain in Gage’s stomach intensified. He doubled over with his hand still on Majoria’s forehead. He felt Sienna’s hand cover his own. They both knew that withdrawing when the connection as still there could break them both as the healer’s body and the one in pain would be left in the confusion of their mixed energies.
“Gage, listen to me,” Sienna said. “You have to ease back. We can help her now, but you have to let go.” Her voice drew closer to his ear. “Carefully, Gage. Take it slow. Ease back.”
Gage let her voice guide him. He pulled his energy back toward her warm tones.
“I-I’m keeping her pain for now,” he said, his voice soft with the effort it took. He rose beside her. Hands supported him.
“I’ve got her,” Vinian said.
Opening his eyes just enough to pay attention, Gage saw the strong Darfian lift Majoria up. Gage walked beside them, aware that there were hands on his shoulders to guide him. It was all he could do to put one foot in front of the other as he kept a careful hold on her pain.
“Start intravenous fluids,” Cisco directed. “She might need a transfusion, but we don’t carry Balanelf blood.” A button beeped. “Scan for possible substitutes,” the doctor instructed the computer.
The echoed sound of his voice informed Gage that they were in the Medical Bay.
“Pull a chair up for him,” the doctor directed gruffly. He raised his voice. “Captain, I don’t agree with what you’re doing. You’re putting both of your lives at risk.”
Gage turned his head slowly and met the healer’s eyes. “I’m doing what I can and I expect you to do the same.”
The Roonite held his gaze for a moment before he nodded. “Yes, Captain. But this is unnatural and I won’t support it. Expect my resignation when we reach Corian.”
Gage nodded. He closed his eyes and turned his entire focus back to Majoria. With his pulling, he could feel Cisco’s probing of her wounds. The Roonite worked quickly, his hands sure as he flushed the damaged tissue and stitched those places Gage hadn’t been able to repair. Gage winced at the pressure to the wounds. He felt lightheaded and leaned down to put his head on the table.
“Stay with us, Gage,” Sienna said gently.
He felt a cool rag be placed on the back of his neck. It helped to center him and reminded him that the pain wasn’t his own.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
He held Majoria’s pain until the wound had been cleaned and closed completely. As Cisco pressed bandages on top and wrapped her stomach carefully, Gage eased back on his hold. He took care not to release the pain too quickly for fear that it would send Majoria’s exhausted body into shock.
Slowly, with shaking fingers, he lifted his hand from her head. He leaned back in the chair and his breath escaped him in a sigh. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so exhausted. Even in the heat of battle when his fingers clung to his blade only by habit and his feet barely remembered how to walk, he hadn’t been to this depth of tiredness. It was as though even his cells and the fibers that made up his body had been taxed.
“You need sleep,” Sienna said.
“Come on, Cap’n. I’ll get you to your room,” Manax told him.
The Amphibite ducked under his good arm and helped him to his feet. Gage caught a glimpse of Cisco and Sienna talking heatedly near the bed where Majoria rested. Yukan and Suye watched with wide eyes. The Zamarian gave Gage a helpless shrug as though he didn’t know what to do. Manax steered Gage out of the room without letting him get into the argument. Gage was grateful; he didn’t have enough strength left to argue anyway.
“I don’t know how you did that, Gage,” Manax said as soon as they were out of earshot of the others. “I’ve seen the same expression on your face when we’re in the middle of a hard battle that I swear we’re about to lose. You get that look in your eyes, confident, relaxed, as if you know that even though chaos is swirling around you, you’re the heart of the storm and it’s under your control.”
Gage gave a half smile; the effort it took amazed him. The smile disappeared as quickly as it appeared. “That’s actually as good an explanation as any how it feels.” When he reached his room, he put his hand to the panel and the door slid open. Manax helped him inside.
The Amphibite lowered him onto the bed. Gage sat there and watched his friend walk back and forth across the room. It was a few minutes before Manax turned back to him.
“Gage, I’ve always trusted you. You know that.”
Gage nodded without speaking.
Manax crossed his green scaled arms. “Did you about kill yourself back there?” The black scales around his eyes tightened. “I saw the look on Sienna’s face. She was worried, and it wasn’t for Majoria. She was worried about you and whatever you were doing.” His voice lowered when he said, “You were using whatever it is you have to heal her, and at your expense.”
Gage wasn’t surprised at his friend’s perception. He nodded. “My Foundling blood….”
“Helps you fight,” Manax said. “You told me that yourself. It quickens your reflexes, help
s you see things before they happen, ways to counter attacks and defend yourself.” He paused, then said, “Ways to kill. Gage, this wasn’t that.”
Gage was about to agree, but hesitated. “It is, actually.” He leaned back against the pillows. “It’s the way my sister uses her Foundling blood. It’s all a matter of channeling energy. I couldn’t understand that before.” His awe showed in his voice. “She tried to teach me, but I couldn’t grasp it.”
Manax gave him an uncertain look. “For all we know, your family is the last with Foundling blood in your lines. You told me so yourself. It’s powerful and dangerous. Are you sure you should be using it at all?”
Gage swept a hand toward the door. It dropped back to his side. “Would you rather see Majoria dead? She was dying when we found her. For all I know, she’s still dying. Her wounds were extensive. I did all I could from the inside—”
Manax cut in to say, “Which makes absolutely no sense to me.”
“But if you were there, if you felt it, you would see that it’s like pushing memories, sharing images, only it’s sharing strength and energy instead.”
Manax shook his head. “Gage, I don’t understand. I’m your best friend on this ship and I’m trying to grasp what just happened. I feel like it’s important that I do, but I can’t comprehend it. I’m sorry.”
Gage had never pushed to his friend before. He hadn’t pushed to anyone until Sienna came on board. He couldn’t blame Manax for the look of confusion on his face. Manax had been with him from the beginning. It felt vital that his friend understand.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
“You know I do,” Manax replied.
“Hold out your hand,” Gage directed.
To his relief, the Amphibite didn’t hesitate. He held out his webbed hand palm up to reveal the lighter green scales that ran up his fingers.