Redemption: Sci Fi Romance (Far Hope Series Book 2)

by E. A. James

  She was also eager to get back home—to tell her parents of her journey and heroism, to brag to her siblings about it, to introduce Adrik to them all—her heart ached with longing at those thoughts.

  Night sank into the horizon, starlight glittering over the sandy terrain.

  Adrik had led her to a few boulders—a makeshift cave of sorts with the limitless sky above. There, they made camp, had their dinner, and drifted off to sleep.

  White light seeped into her eyelids, the remnants of her dream shattering as consciousness barely grasped her mind. She cringed against the blinding light and struggled to open her eyes. She raised her forearm over her face, her awareness growing sharper and sharper as the seconds ticked by.

  Her chest iced over once she realized the familiar nature of this feeling. She scrambled up to her feet. “Adrik?! Adrik?! What—?!”

  “Calm yourself, child,” a familiar voice said, the light ebbing.

  As the light shrank down amidst the darkness, Leonie lowered her arm and balked. “Mathsus.”

  He looked on in silence. Floating a few centimeters off the ground—right where the boulders parted—he wore a robe of silver and a crown of orange light danced upon his head. Like before, his face was stoic, conveying no emotion and barely revealing any kind of movement.

  Remembering herself, Leonie fell to her knees and bowed. “God of fate, I—I hope I have done your will.”

  “Indeed, you have proven yourself capable of altering fate, just as I foresaw. It will make these coming years more…challenging.”

  She furrowed her brow, her nose close to the sand. “I don’t understand.”

  “An advantage to me, but do I want it? Must goals be achieved so easily?”

  Leonie’s tongue felt like lead, pressed against the roof of her mouth as she struggled to comprehend the god’s words. After several seconds of this, she dared to raise her head.

  He seemed to smile at her, and his eyes narrowed. Then, in a silent and sudden implosion, he vanished.

  She stiffened, gawking at where the god had just been floating. Her sense of time and space slowly returned and Adrik’s snore broke her from the trance.

  “Are you certain it wasn’t a dream?” Adrik asked the next morning.

  She glared. “Of course it wasn’t!”

  Quietly, he shushed her and glanced around at the small village. Though they walked along a tiny back road—behind the main market buzzing with noise and activity—it wouldn’t take much for people on the main street to peer around the huts and notice Leonie, the supposed prophetess.

  She crossed her arms and bit her tongue, her glare deepening. “You doubted me once before, you know.”

  “Doubt is healthy. It’s a means to separate reality from fiction.”

  “It sounds more like a means to deny things that you would not like to accept.”

  He rolled his eyes, shifting to his left—toward the rows of little homes rather than toward the main market street.

  Her stomach growled, feebleness spiking through her limbs and up her neck. Leonie placed a palm over her stomach and frowned. “Maybe no one will recognize me if we buy food from one of the merchants. And water.”

  “If they do, perhaps they’ll offer their goods to the prophetess for free.”

  She lightly hit his arm and smirked. “I would never take free goods from a hard-working merchant.”

  Adrik smirked back. “I would.”

  She huffed, shaking her head and keeping her hand on his arm. Then she turned back to the markets and bit her lip. “Really, though, it should be fine, right?”

  “Are you asking me if the village will turn into a mob upon seeing you?”

  “Well…yes.”

  “I don’t know. But if they did,” he wrapped his arm around her shoulders—a light yet reassuring pressure.

  Blushing, she patted the hand on her shoulder. “While I appreciate that, I’m more concerned about disappointing them. Mathsus only visited me twice, and he was nearly unintelligible both times. What if people need to hear more?”

  “Then that’s their problem, not yours.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but then her stomach growled again.

  “Come,” Adrik said, guiding her to the main street. “Let’s get some food and see what happens.”

  “You’re the prophetess!” an elderly merchant said almost instantly as she entered the fray of the market. Leonie’s eyes bulged and her hands fluttering over her mouth. “Praise to the gods!”

  Leonie forced herself to smile and keep eye-contact with the woman, though the sweet pastries covering the woman’s table tormented Leonie with temptations. Her mouth water, her stomach growling. “I wouldn’t—”

  “I’m honored to be in your presence,” the merchant breathed. She waved out a wrinkled hand over her food. “However I may be of service to the prophetess, I shall be that.”

  Leonie sighed. Then, seeing Adrik reach for one of the pastries, she slapped his fingers while keeping her attention to the old merchant. “I appreciate the sentiment, my lady, but I desire to offer you fair coin for your products. I’m but a young woman. Mathsus granted me brief attention and nothing else.”

  “That is more attention than he has ever given me. Please—take anything and everything!”

  Leonie swallowed back another sigh and took out her small bag. “I must insist I pay for ‘anything and everything.’” She glanced over the money she scooped up in her hand, hidden in her purse. “How much does it cost for two slices of this dessert?”

  Adrik leaned closer to her and whispered, “Four.”

  Leonie snapped her widened eyes to him. “Four slices? Really?”

  “My stomach is much larger than yours. My body, in general, is much larger than yours and requires, well, more.”

  It was a fair point. Shrugging, Leonie turned back to the merchant—but then a dark shadow caught her eye. She glanced back to Adrik—to behind Adrik—and in the distance, a towering figure stood at the mouth of an alley, his or her entire being covered by a massive black cloak. Leonie couldn’t even make out a face.

  Leonie frowned.

  The figure didn’t move. Leonie swore that he or she stared at Leonie, but there was no way to be sure.

  Adrik nudged her. “Leonie?”

  Shaking her head, she smiled at the merchant and gave her money for four slices. “My apologies. I was distracted.”

  The merchant flinched at the money. “At least let me offer the prophetess a discount!”

  “The prophetess?” a bystander whispered, getting out of line in the adjacent shop and walking up to Leonie. “By the gods, it is true!”

  Leonie’s smile wavered, her eyes snapping back to the cloaked figure—one who remained frozen in his or her spot, like a bleak statue. Her skin crawled, anxiety jittering through her veins.

  It didn’t help when more bystanders crowded Leonie, all of them whispering praises of her and Mathsus. The gentle voices roared into mass nonsense, their warm bodies pressing closer and closer to Leonie and Adrik.

  Leonie ground her teeth behind her waning smile. Quickly, she lowered the coins to a small space on the table before snatching few slices of whatever pastry she could grab. Then she spun to Adrik and handed him all of the food. “Here, just—just eat it all. I can’t even breathe right now.”

  “Prophetess!” a woman cried. “Prophetess, we honor your presence!”

  Others loudly agreed.

  “Thank you,” Leonie said, but her voice was drowned out by several others giving her praise.

  Adrik motioned his head toward her, making her furrow her brow. He handed her back the pastries, and with a tight frown, she gathered them in her arms. As icing sank into the fibers of her clothes, Adrik bent down and scooped her up.

  She giggled in surprise, pastries tumbling over her gut as she wiggled in Adrik’s loose grip. “Adrik!”

  “Pardon us,” Adrik announced to the crowd, gawking at him. “The prophetess has a lot of traveli
ng to do today, so I’m afraid we must take our leave.” He took a small step forward and cleared his throat.

  The bystanders shuffled back.

  He took another step, a bit bigger.

  The bystanders shuffled back more.

  Leonie bit her lip to tame her grin as she glanced at Adrik. “My hero.”

  He shrugged, eyes glinting with pride and amusement.

  She glanced over at all the pastries before grabbing one that seemed relatively intact—and without any of her clothes’ fibers on it—and offered it to him. “Want a bite?”

  He cocked an eyebrow at the sugary bread held in front of his mouth. Then he leaned forward and took a bite, his lips grazing the edge of her pointer finger.

  She giggled again, cradling the dessert. Her stomach released a high-pitched whine, encouraging her to take a large bite, herself. As she did so—raspberries and sugar coated her mouth—she looked back at the dispersing bystanders.

  There, down the street walked the cloaked figure. It seemed to follow her and Adrik. The figure—like a lanky phantom—weaved around people while keeping his or her face fixed at Leonie. The movement struck Leonie as unnatural.

  Leonie’s heart thudded quicker. “Uh, Adrik?” she whispered, moving to hide part of her face behind his shoulder.

  “Yes?” he said around his bite of food. Then he swallowed.

  “We’re being followed.”

  “Of course we are. You’re the prophetess. Can I get another bite?”

  “No,” she hissed, “I mean someone is stalking us right now. Look.”

  Adrik glanced over his shoulder. He stiffened, steps faltering a little as he faced forward again. His lips pressed together in a thin frown.

  “Never seen anyone that tall before.” He swerved, picking up his pace and pushed past several people to get off the main road and back onto the smaller road, behind the shops. “Is he still following us?”

  She craned her neck to peer over his arm.

  The dusty road was bare, save for the few bystanders who peered around buildings to watch her leave. She released a long breath, body relaxing.

  And then the dark figure soared above the bystanders blocking their view, his feet thudding against the dirt road a few meters away from them. As he rose, he quickened his pace toward Leonie and Adrik.

  Leonie nearly choked on her fear. “Adrik,” she wheezed.

  He glanced over his shoulder again and cursed. He quickened his pace even more and his grip on her tightened.

  The cloaked figure moved faster. His bony knees pushed against the dark cloth that covered him. His strides were long—longer than they should be.

  “Adrik, I don’t know what that thing is,” she whispered to him. “It’s getting closer.”

  Adrik ran.

  Leonie gasped, the pastries bouncing out of her lap and crashing to the ground. She gripped Adrik’s arm and gawked at the figure, increasing its speed, as well—so fast that it's blurred, angled frame aimed like an arrow at Adrik’s back.

  “He’s a demon or a Fader or something,” she rambled, quivering and clawing into Adrik’s arm. “He’s going to catch us. We have to do something.”

  She reached for the pack on her back, but it was pinned between herself and Adrik’s arms. She tugged on the top of it in a desperate attempt to free some kind of weapon.

  Adrik turned, sprinting past the rows of homes.

  The figure dashed after them, its cloak flapping in the air with each swift step.

  Leonie squirmed and pulled harder at her pack. She had not needed her dagger or bow in several days—forgotten in its storage—and the moment she needed them the most—she growled, “Adrik!”

  Adrik jumped over a ditch, the ground beneath his feet feeling harder as sharper tremors shot up his limbs and rumbled into her.

  The figure was meters away from them.

  Splashing water graced Leonie’s ears and she faced forward again.

  A river. Massive in width and flat in appearance, it was almost difficult to tell just how rapidly the water rushed by. It was only because of a small twig floating on the surface that Leonie saw the true intensity of the river’s might.

  “Adrik!” she said warningly, but it was too late.

  Adrik’s feet landed on the edge of the river—on a sharp edge of firm dirt and dying grass—before he pushed off the ground and dove into the water, Leonie clung to his back.

  EPILOGUE

  The Gargan protector—with the prophetess in his arms—had the gall to jump into the river, the dark waters concealing him and the young woman completely from sight.

  Growling, he stopped at the river’s edge, his cloak rustling against the gentle breeze that followed the river onward. He stared at the rapid water for several moments in search of the prophetess, but she never broke the river’s surface.

  He released a long sigh. His wings trembled and ached within their tight confinement, and he stretched his back and long limbs in hopes of alleviating the discomfort. The gears in his legs whirled loudly until he relaxed his posture yet again.

  The prophetess must’ve been carried farther down the river—much farther, though this was assuming that the man of rock wasn’t anchoring her.

  He cracked his jaw. If she died because of such idiocy…

  Shaking his head, he walked alongside the river—one long stride after another—in search of the one who could alter fate.

  TANAK

  STAR FALL SERIES BOOK #1

  CHAPTER ONE

  Margila Fallosi headed across the Village Common toward her home when her best friend Amara Dunroy rushed to meet her. “Margila! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “Well, you found me. Now, what’s the big fuss?”

  “Have you finished the decorations for the Harvest Festival? You’re in charge of the decorating committee, and you haven’t told me one thing to do. If we don’t finish in time, the village won’t be ready. We can’t let that happen.”

  “If you looked on your way across the Common, you would have seen the decorations all finished. I put up the last garlands not an hour ago. Would you like to go back and check if they meet your standards?”

  Amara seized her arm. “Oh, Margila, I’m so relieved. I should have known you wouldn’t leave such a big job to the last minute, and I’m sure the decorations look marvelous. I have a feeling this is going to be the best Festival ever!”

  “It won’t be the best ever if we don’t do an equally grand job on the food for the feast and the flowers for the procession. We better get back to my house. Mother will be waiting for us, and there’s so much to do before the full moon.”

  The two young women fell in side by side on their way back to Margila’s house. “What’s your Mother preparing for the feast?”

  “Just...everything. Roast pig and roast venison and roast vegetables and pies and cakes and cookies and crumbles and everything in between. Salads by the score, cordial syrup for drinks, candied apples and sugar-dried chips—you name it, she’s preparing it. You know how my Mother is. When she sets out to make food, she doesn’t spare. She’s been a whirlwind for three weeks, and I’ve been pressed into service. That’s why I volunteered to do the decorations, so I could get out of the house for a little while. What’s your mother preparing?”

  “I don’t think she’s doing a pig this year, but she’s doing everything else. I only wish....”

  The two friends came to the end of the Common and turned off into a side lane. Clusters of small cottages lined the lane set off with flowerbeds. They passed through the garden gate toward Margila’s front door when Margila laid a hand on Amara’s arm. “Sh! Do you hear that?”

  The two girls stopped in their tracks and listened. Amara frowned. “Who’s that talking in your house? I recognize your father’s voice, but I hear someone’s I don’t recognize. Who is that?”

  Margila grabbed her friend’s hand and towed her around the corner of the house. She crouched low under the kitchen window an
d held her finger to her lips. They peeked over the windowsill at three men standing in Margila’s kitchen. Margila didn’t see her mother anywhere.

  Thomas Fallosi murmured in low tones to the other two. Margila knew Amara’s father, Councilor Dunroy, as well as she knew her own father. The third man wore a crisp, dark-blue uniform with gold braid looping from the shiny epaulets on his shoulders. Medals and ribbons hung on his lapel, and he stood very tall and erect. “The Axis Joint Command is doing everything it can. I’m mustering the fleet, but it takes time. We can’t move any faster than we already are. You must understand that.”