by Luna Hunter
I barely have any time left at the end of the day to plot an escape. I collapse every night, exhausted. I don’t get to see much of Malak either — his royal duties take up all of his time.
Which I’m a bit conflicted about.
As long as he’s not around, I don’t have to face all of the confusing feelings I have for him. So in that way, it’s a nice change of pace.
But, at the same time, I… miss him. And I find myself worrying about him. And putting off plotting an escape.
Tonight I’ve got something else on my mind though, because tonight is the night I sneak out. A pebble hits my window — that’s the signal. I peer into the garden.
Two dark figures huddled in cloaks wait for me down below.
“Your grace, are you ready?” Ezra whisper-shouts from down below.
I gulp. It’s a long way down, but I made a promise to those girls. I can’t back out now.
I wrap myself in a thick, comfy coat, hang my sheets out the window, and shimmy my way down, cursing myself every inch of the way. I must be flipping crazy to try this. My hand slips. Oh fuuu—
A thick layer of snow cushions my fall. Ezra and Gada are quick to pull me to my feet and dust me off. “Are you okay, your grace?!”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I stammer. “And please, call me Emma.”
“Let’s go then,” Ezra smirks mischievously.
I didn’t think it possible, but I’ve slowly gotten used to the blistering cold that ravages this alien world daily. I keep my hood pulled down low as we pass the castle guards. Ezra nods at them and they just wave us through, not even giving me a second glance. Three Unur are waiting for us.
“You know how to ride, right?” Gada asks as she effortlessly flings her slim figure onto the six-legged horse.
I’m not that graceful.
“Eh, y-yes.”
I know how to ride my own personal Unur, who I’ve named Lewis. He’s strong, protective, kind. We’ve built a good rapport over a lot of training sessions, and I’m starting to see why the Aegir regard these noble beings as sacred.
The large, imposing Unur in front of me right now, though?
I don’t know if I can ride him.
Okay, just remember your training. Your foot goes here, and then you—AHHH!
The Unur breaks into a furious gallop. With me hanging helplessly off the side of the majestic, six-legged beast.
All I can do is grab the reins and hold on for dear life as the beast careens downhill, straight through the traffic-filled, winding streets of Nyrr. My hood flies off straight away, my hair flapping freely in the wind.
Merchants duck to the side. Children hop out of the way. Aegir curses are flung in my direction.
My Unur training didn’t prepare me for this.
In the distance I can hear Ezra and Gada shout frantically. I catch glimpses of them trying to catch up with me, looking like total badasses as they spur their Unur on.
That’s how I could look. Instead I’m flapping in the wind, like a newspaper hanging out a train window.
Ezra and Gada both pass me and grab the noseband of the frenzied beast. They slow down, and moments later the Unur comes to a standstill with a big, loud whinny.
“Your grace, are you okay?!” Ezra says.
“It’s Emma,” I puff as I pull myself into the correct, seating position. “And I’m fine.”
Gada is so shook she’s looking pale. “You’re going to get us all killed, Ezra, what are we even doing out here?!”
A small crowd has formed. The Aegir stare at me, and I pull my hood down again. So much for being low key.
These Aegir are dressed very differently from the royals or the soldiers; their clothes are more like rags, barely covering their blue skin. The ramshackle houses behind them, if you could call them that, are practically falling apart. Ezra wasn’t kidding when she said life is different outside of the castle walls.
“Let’s just keep going,” I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “We’ve already come this far.”
“Right you are,” Ezra says. She leads the way, and the murmuring crowd parts slowly for us.
I just pray this mistake won’t cost me dearly.
16
Malak
Nyrr’s future grows darker with each passing day. The dun mines are barren, and what little shipments do make it out are harassed by Stalkils, Aegir-sized spiders that usually hide in the deep crevices of the world.
Something has stirred them. I don’t know if it’s my miners, digging too deep for dun, or other nefarious forces at play…
But I do know that the current situation can’t hold for too long. Nyrr’s economy depends on those shipments. There’s little else to gain from these cold, inhospitable mountains. My people grow hungry and cold, as our once-friendly neighbors hike up the price of every single essential, from food to clothing to herbs.
The Grand Archon of the Yagna Coven is squeezing the life out of me.
I spent the last few weeks traveling around the many mines that litter our mountains, to increase morale and instill confidence in my people. They’ve got to know that the end is not near, that we will persevere.
Instead, I saw pale, famished faces. The situation is more dire than even my advisers have let on.
I spur my trusty Unur on as my castle looms up in front of us. I’ve travelled back just in time, for a blizzard is on the horizon, and it’ll engulf Nyrr soon. I cannot wait to see Emma again, to hold her in my arms, to savor her scent once more.
The reports I’ve received on her progress please me. She’s taking to her training well, better than I dared to hope. She’ll make a perfect Xeer.
My people need our mating ceremony, perhaps even more than I need it. They need something to celebrate, something positive, something life-affirming.
Too long has Nyrr been in mourning.
I will move up the date of our ceremony as soon as possible. I cannot wait to see my yali in her ceremonial gown, hopefully with a round belly…
I race my Unur through the gates, hop off and practically sprint up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. I open the door to her quarters.
“Emma?”
The room is empty. The window open. Sheets hang out the window. Footsteps lead away from the castle.
A kidnapping?
There are no obvious signs of struggle.
The guard in the hallway peeks his head around the corner, his attention drawn by my incessant cursing.
“Was it not your job to guard Emma?”
“Uh, y-yes s-sir, why?”
“She is not here,” I say with a voice as cold as the coming snowstorm outside.
The guard looks aghast.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. It would be easy to blame this guard. To throw him in the dungeons for a few days and let him ruminate on his failings. That would not be fair.
Emma Fairheart of Earth is crafty. I expected this. I just hoped she wouldn’t do it at night, with a blizzard headed our way.
“Do not speak a word of this,” I say. “You stay here and guard this room, as you usually would. If word comes out, if the castle buzzes with news of Emma’s disappearance when I return — then I won’t be so forgiving of your grave mistakes. Is that understood?”
“Yes sir! My Prince! Grace! Sir!”
In Yagna or the Deadsea, they’d have a servant quartered for such a mistake. To make a point, or just to be cruel. I am trying to be a different type of ruler. A better one.
Emma makes me want to be a better man. I need to be, if I want to be a better father, for when that time comes.
I could organize a search party and comb the city from top to bottom, but I don’t want to raise any alarms, and alert those lurking in the shadows that my mate is vulnerable.
Emma doesn’t understand how dangerous this planet truly is.
I head downstairs and inspect the footsteps left in the snow. Emma and two Aegir females…
Ezra and Gada. Of course. I’d ho
ped they’d have a little more sense than this…
I follow the trail with both furious anger and deep worry coursing through my veins. I better find her in time.
Or I will go mad.
17
Emma
“And so he had to waddle across the beach, with only the snorkel to hide his privates!”
Ezra and Gada burst out laughing as I conclude the story of one of my most horrendous dates. I’m glad we went out tonight — it’s an absolute blast to hang out with my girls without guards looking over our shoulders.
Even though the night got off to a rocky start with the whole almost-trampled-by-a-six-legged-horse situation, it’s been smooth sailing ever since. They showed me the city, we got noodles at a little hole in the wall (they wouldn’t tell me the ingredients and I don’t think I want to know, but it was delicious), and now we’re drinking seabeer in a cozy pub.
And it’s hitting the spot too, oh my. Even though it’s getting late, I don’t want to head back to the castle just yet. All that awaits me there is an empty bed, and more classes, more studying, more work.
This pub looked a little seedy from the outside, with its dim lighting and grumpy patrons, but the bartender is friendly and the other guests pay us no mind.
Even though our constant loud laughing may be rather hard to ignore.
“Oh, by Ran’s spear, tell us more,” Ezra insist. “Your human dating rituals are out of this world!”
“I haven’t really dated all that much, really!” I say as I take another sip of my seabeer. To my dismay, I have reached the bottom of said glass. “What do you think? One more?”
“Of course!” Ezra says.
“Hm. One more can’t hurt,” Gada says. “But then we must go.”
I turn to the bartender with enthusiasm, swiveling around on my stool so quickly my hood falls off.
“Bartender, another round please!”
Several eyes turn to me. I stare back at the tall, blue men. Did I say something weird?
Oh. Right.
To them, I’m the alien. In my drunken haze, I forgot all about that rather important fact. I pull my hood back up as the bartender places three full glasses on our table.
Ezra pulls at my sleeve. “Come on, tell us another tale!”
“Okay, where was I… oh, this is a good one. I don’t really tell it often because it’s kinda embarrassing, but… do you want to hear about the guy who tried to put it in my belly-button?”
“Yes!” Ezra and Gada exclaim in unison.
There’s commotion behind us, interrupting my hilarious tale.
I turn around and find myself facing a sharp blade. The man wielding said blade is staring at me with a wicked grin on his face. He just saw my hood drop, and the evil glint in his eyes makes my blood run cold.
“I lost your trail and came here to lament my missed opportunity — how nice of you to wander in here yourself!”
My mouth is suddenly dry. I turn back to Ezra and Gada. Bystanders pull them from their seat, away from me. They kick and fight as hard as they can, but it’s no use compared to the brute strength of the Aegir men.
“This doesn’t concern you,” one of the males grunts. “Don’t get yourself killed for her, she doesn’t even belong here.”
I turn back to my would-be assassin, armed with nothing but my glass of seabeer.
“Real heroic. Attacking an unarmed woman.”
“Who cares about honor when there’s ten-thousand drahir on the line?”
“Is that the price on my head?”
“It sure is, honey. And I’m here to collect.”
He stabs at my heart. I move to the side and dodge his blow. The beer glass I smash right into his face.
Those fencing lessons are paying off.
“Ah, you bitch,” he cries, stumbling backwards.
This is my chance. I ball my fists and go in for the killing blow.
My hail-mary punch barely grazes his chin. Damn it.
The assassin backhands me across the face. I bump my head against the table before falling on the floor. The men in the pub laugh at my misfortune.
“You’re going to pay for that, you alien bitch,” my attacker snarls.
He raises his dagger.
A sword pierces him.
Entering from the back, the blood-smeared tip protruding from his chest.
The assassin looks down as surprised as I am.
Blood drips down onto the floor.
The pub is silent.
My attacker drops to his knees. He gurgles blood, mutters a final curse, and collapses on the floor. Dead.
Malak stands behind him. The blood-coated sword resting in his hand.
“Anyone else want a turn?” He thunders.
The men all scramble wildly for the exit, but two Nyrr soldiers block it with their spears.
“That’s what I thought. Everyone here is arrested for treason.”
Malak turns to me, the hardness in his eyes disappearing instantly. He kneels down next to me and places his hand on my bruised cheek.
“Are you okay, Emma?”
I nod. “I-I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he says. “Let’s go.”
Malak lifts me up and carries me outside, where a carriage is waiting for us. Ezra and Gada follow silently.
I think everyone realizes just how narrow that escape was. If Malak hadn’t shown up when he did, I would have bled out right there on that dirty floor.
Malak doesn’t say a word either. He gazes out towards the dark streets, a look unlike anything I’ve seen before etched onto his chiseled face.
“Don’t blame Ezra or Gada, please — it was my fault,” I say. “I made them take me out. Please, talk to me.”
“I just killed a man. Because you three left the security and safety of the castle. And I had an entire bar full of men arrested for treason. I’m a forgiving ruler, but these men did nothing to interfere. I cannot forgive that. Those are men that will not go back home to their families tonight. Or ever. What do you want me to say, Emma?”
My stomach fills with a big black ball of pain and regret. How am I ever going to make this right?
18
Malak
Actions have consequences.
Emma, Gada and Ezra crossed the line. And now an assassin is dead, and a bar full of men just wanting to unwind after a hard day’s work will spend the night in my cellar.
Plus, perhaps, many more nights to come.
I haven’t decided yet. Right now I could execute every one of them, for they did nothing to save my mate, but the adrenaline is still pumping through my veins.
I cannot make life and death decisions right now. I must sleep on it.
Once we return to my castle Emma runs up the stairs, back to her room. I turn to her two assistants with pure rage still encircling my heart.
I almost lost my fated mate tonight. A second or two later, and her light would’ve been snuffed out.
I would’ve lost my fucking mind.
“What were you two thinking?!” I thunder. “You two should know exactly how dangerous the docks are at night. Were you trying to get her killed? Are you Yagna spies?”
“No, I swear we are not. We are truly sorry, your grace, truly!” Ezra pleads.
“Please, forgive us,” Gada says as she drops to her knees and begs for my forgiveness.
“I almost lost my yali tonight. And you two are responsible. Why should I not send you to the dungeon as well?”
“Emma… wanted to know more, and see the true Nyrr,” Ezra says hesitantly. “We never thought…”
“That is why you two don’t make the decisions around here,” I snap. “I know what Nyrr is really like! Do you take me for some high-born pampered prince? The kind whose never seen a hard day’s work in their life? How many scars do I need to show you to prove you wrong? Ten? Twenty? A hundred? How about the amount of friends I’ve had to bury? Or do you want to know my bodycount? I’ve seen more of the real world th
an you two combined. And for your sakes I hope it stays that way.”
“Yes, your grace,” the two answer, heads bowed down.
I sigh deeply. Ranting at them is not going to change a thing. And perhaps I’ve been too protective of Emma, perhaps I haven’t shown her enough how dangerous my world can be.
I didn’t want her to be afraid. Earth is a much safer planet, and I wanted her to feel at home.
In the end, my desire to protect her only made everything worse.
“If Emma didn’t consider you her best friends, I’d have you banished from the Xeerdom for your incompetence and insubordination,” I say. “For her sake, I won’t do that. But from now on no more stunts. Is that understood?”
“Yes, my prince!” They chime in unison. “Thank you!”
“Get out of my sight before I change my mind,” I growl.
I head up to my chambers and pour myself a stiff drink. It takes several hours for my nerves to fully calm down, for the battle rage to subside completely. My sleep that night is restless.
I awake the next morning alone.
No more.
Last night proved just how delicate life can be. As if I needed a damn reminder. It still feels like Moric could wander in at only moment, back from his travels, with a smile on his face.
If only that could be the case…
I’m not going to let another minute go to waste. Emma will be my mate, and she will be it now.
I head over to Emma’s room and open her door.
“Haven’t you head of knocking?” Emma rubs the sleep from her eyes. Her hair is tangled, her chest covered by an oversized shirt.
She’s never looked prettier to me.
I sit down on the edge of her bed and brush a strand of hair out of her face. “How are you doing, my yali?”
“No, don’t be so nice to me. I don’t deserve it.”
“And why not?”
“Because.”
She turns away from me and pulls the covers over her head.
“Because you are right. A man died. And more are locked up right now. Because of me. That’s why. I don’t belong here.”