The Chains of Freedom (Starhawke Rising Book 2)

by Audrey Sharpe

  But as her vision greyed around the edges, the weight suddenly lifted and her lungs expanded. She gasped, gulping in as much air as she could handle. At the same time, a gentle coolness caressed her raw emotions, soothing her. She dragged her gaze from Raaveen’s father and found Paaw and Zelle standing beside her, their hands resting lightly on her shoulders as their healing blue energy joined the mix.

  “Zelle?” Raaveen’s father looked bewildered at he stared up at them.

  Zelle’s smile filled the room with light. “Uia, Ren. Veebra laanaa.”

  Yes, Ren. Welcome home.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

  BY NIGHTFALL, the Suulh had all been transported to the settlement.

  Cade had joined Aurora, Mya and Clarek in the main house to discuss the warship attack at Burrow with Siginal. The rest of the crew had been given the task of sorting out the temporary sleeping arrangements in the main house and four of the outbuildings. They were habitable, though largely unfurnished, but compared to the cramped quarters the Suulh were used to, the situation was nirvana.

  Siginal rested his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepled his fingers together in a gesture that perfectly mimicked Admiral Schreiber. The fact that the Kraed had picked up that particular behavior from the Admiral gave Cade insight into just how much time the two men must have spent together over the years. He had a feeling there was a depth to their relationship that he’d never imagined.

  “Tell me about the ships you encountered, checala.” Siginal’s yellow gaze rested on Aurora.

  Siginal had used that term to refer to Aurora once before, when they’d first arrived. Now Cade wished he’d asked what it meant. He didn’t care for the tone in which it was spoken, like the Kraed had some parental authority over her.

  “The carrier was the largest ship I’ve ever seen. Bigger than the entire Clarek compound.” Her voice sounded flat, and her expression was carefully neutral. “And the warships were all roughly the size of the Starhawke.”

  “How many warships?”

  “We fought a dozen. But I seriously doubt that’s the maximum capacity for the carrier.”

  “The raw materials necessary to create a ship of that size would be considerable.” Siginal frowned. “Was there any indication of Setarip involvement?”

  Aurora shook her head. “The technology they used was advanced and very well designed. We’ve never encountered anything like it from Setarips.”

  “Do you have any theories regarding how they located you?”

  Cade fielded that one. “Justin thinks it’s possible they picked up on the signals from the relay beacons in that sector when Aurora and I were sending messages. Since the Fleet no longer maintains a presence in that system, repeated activity on the beacons would have been unusual.”

  “If that is correct, why did they not attack sooner?”

  Cade picked up on the subtle challenge in the question. “It would have taken time for anyone to notice the unusual activity and pinpoint our location. And moving that carrier would take an incredible amount of energy. They wouldn’t do it until they were certain they had the right target.”

  Aurora backed him up. “We probably arrived in the system before the carrier did. If it had already been there, our sensors would have picked up energy traces during the flight in. We didn’t. But the carrier would have been able to track our signals leading into the debris field. With the field acting as a signal shield after we passed through, they were able to set their trap and move into position to intercept us without alerting us.”

  “They also may have been wary of making a ground assault,” Cade added. “The Suulh aren’t Necri anymore, but our enemy may not know that. Capturing them on a ship would be a safer course of action than confronting them face-to-face.”

  “They clearly wanted us alive.” Aurora’s lips thinned. “The warships were trying to capture us, not destroy us.”

  And they’d almost succeeded. “The netting system they used on the Nightingale worked perfectly. If they’d managed to catch both ships at the same time, we wouldn’t have been able to escape. We couldn’t use our weapons without blowing ourselves up.” He didn’t add that that’s exactly what he would have done if the Starhawke hadn’t been able to break them free.

  “An effective strategy for domination.” Siginal’s gaze bored into him, almost like he held Cade responsible.

  Cade stared back, refusing to be cowed. “The attack on Gaia was only a first foray. Testing the waters to see how the Council would respond. They responded by sending Aurora. From what the Admiral told us, that was no accident.”

  Aurora sighed. “Because of the Suulh. Someone knew Mya and I were connected to them. Or at least suspected.” Her expression grew bleak as she and Mya exchanged a troubled glance. “They needed to bring us into contact with them to see what would happen. And apparently they learned a lot from those encounters.”

  Siginal’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “There were Necri on that carrier. Lots of them.”

  Cade’s heart thumped. He’d been right. Mya had collapsed during the battle because of the presence of Necri on the carrier. Just as she’d collapsed in the orchard on Gaia. Which meant Aurora had also been affected.

  The Clareks stared at Aurora in stunned silence.

  “You sensed them on the ship, didn’t you?” Cade ached for her. “You felt their pain.”

  Aurora and Mya exchanged another look, a haunting sorrow visible in their eyes. Mya rested a hand on Aurora’s arm and a flow of green energy surrounded them both.

  Aurora’s energy field joined Mya’s, but tension still kept her shoulders rigid. “Yes, I felt them. This group.” She gestured to indicate the settlement. “It’s only the tip of the iceberg.”

  Cade swallowed. This was bad. “How many Necri are we talking about?”

  “I don’t know. But the impact gets weaker with distance.”

  Cade was good with numbers. He made the mental calculations in an instant. On Gaia when she and Mya had collapsed, they’d been in visual range of the two hundred Necri involved. This time they’d been sensing Necri on a distant spaceship. To have a similar effect, there’d have to be…

  He swore softly, his body going cold. Siginal and Jonarel exchanged a look he couldn’t interpret. But clearly they found the idea as unsettling as he did.

  Siginal’s voice rumbled like thunder. “If you are correct, the situation is more complicated than we had imagined. But you said you sensed them. How do you know you were sensing the pain of Necri and not someone else?”

  “Because what I sense from the Suulh is different. I feel their pain as my own.”

  Cade’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t known. Hadn’t understood. But it made perfect sense. It explained why her connection to the Suulh was so strong. And why their suffering tore her apart. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do to help her. Except offer her his support. He threaded his fingers through hers, ignoring the glare from Clarek.

  Aurora didn’t look at him, but her fingers closed in a subtle squeeze.

  Mya spoke up. “What Aurora and I experience around the Suulh is a biological reaction. Our abilities work like built-in tracking devices. They let us know when our people are hurting and in need of protection, and also where to find them. The stronger the sensations we experience, the closer we are to the source.”

  Siginal’s frown deepened. “Have you spoken to the Suulh about what you sensed?”

  Mya shook her head. “Most of the adults are still too emotionally compromised to discuss the past, or the existence of other Suulh. Or Necri. It would be too traumatic. Zelle and Paaw might be able to give us some insight, but they’ve been through a lot recently. Asking questions will trigger painful memories. We don’t want to take that step until we have a plan for how to make use of the information they may provide.”

  And those discussions would be as difficult for Aurora as they would be for the Suulh. Their pain was her pain. She felt what t
hey felt. As far as Cade was concerned, they could wait. They all needed time to heal, first.

  Aurora drew her shoulders back, her spine ramrod straight. “However, it’s obvious that the original attack that supposedly wiped out our homeworld wasn’t the genocide we’d been led to believe. Our race survived. Maybe even flourished.”

  “What do you know about that attack?” Jonarel asked.

  “Not much. My mother refused to talk about it.”

  Jonarel glanced at Mya. “What about your parents?”

  She shook her head. “Libra forbid them to speak of it. They shared snippets of the Suulh culture and language with me, nothing more. I didn’t even know that’s what our race was called until Aurora told me. My parents never talked about their lives before they arrived on Earth.”

  “Even with each other?” Cade asked.

  “Not that I ever heard.”

  “Marina and Gryphon won’t go against my mother’s wishes.” Aurora looked as frustrated as Cade felt. “She’s the Guardian of her generation. She has the final word if she and Marina disagree.”

  “Does the same apply to you and Mya?” Cade hadn’t considered that possibility.

  “No,” Aurora said.

  “Yes,” Mya said at the same time.

  Aurora shot Mya an annoyed look. “No, it doesn’t. I wasn’t raised in the Suulh tradition. If Mya and I disagree, we work it out.”

  “What about your mother?” Siginal asked. “Can you order her to tell you what we need to know?”

  Aurora shook her head. “It doesn’t work that way. My mother is still a Guardian. We’re equals, even though technically I became the race’s Guardian as soon as I reached adulthood. But that only changes my relationship to other Suulh, not to my mother.”

  And there was the sticking point. Cade blew out a breath. “So you’ll have to convince her to talk about the attack.” No small task. Libra Hawke had always struck him as a very stubborn woman.

  She met his gaze. “That’s right. But I don’t have much hope. The last time I tried, the discussion deteriorated into a cold war that lasted for weeks.”

  He stroked his thumb across the back of her hand. “But you’ll have backup this time. You won’t be facing her alone.” He’d gladly be her champion, if she’d let him.

  The hint of a smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.

  Siginal cleared his throat, the sound coming out more like a growl. “We have another important issue to discuss.”

  Aurora pulled her hand from Cade’s and sat forward, her focus shifting to Siginal. Cade stifled a growl of his own. When it came to Aurora, the damn Kraed were always interfering.

  “Will is missing.”

  Will? Who was Will? Then it clicked. Siginal was talking about the Admiral. “He’s missing? How do you know?” And more to the point, why had he waited until now to alert them?

  “We keep a steady communication. But my recent messages have not been received. When I inquired at the Council headquarters, I was told he was on leave.”

  The Admiral would never go on leave while the Elite Unit was on a mission. Especially now. “On leave? Where?”

  Siginal met his gaze. “They would not clarify. They may be under orders from Will to keep the details confidential. But that would not explain why he has failed to alert me.”

  Cade exchanged a worried glance with Aurora. It looked like they were thinking the same thing. “We’ll find him.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  A NOOSE HAD SETTLED around Aurora’s neck.

  She tried to shake off the sensation as she gazed at the stars, but it clung stubbornly, tethering her to her anxiety. And the knot that was constricting her throat was far worse than any rope.

  The breeze whispered through the tree fronds, brushing them against the wide ledge of the upstairs balcony where she perched. The sound should have calmed her, but she barely noticed. Her brain was too busy pondering the tasks set before her. And the implications for her future.

  For the past few months she’d been so focused on establishing a homeworld for the Suulh that she’d never really considered what would happen after she achieved that goal. She’d neatly compartmentalized the situation into unrelated tasks—find a homeworld, build the colony, transport the Suulh to the planet. After that, she’d mentally closed the book and considered her job done.

  But the discussion tonight had pointed out the major flaw in her thinking. Her vision wasn’t in line with reality. Not by a long shot. Delivering the Suulh to their new home wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning.

  And that left her in a tough situation. The Suulh needed a guardian, someone to lead and protect them, now more than ever. By birth, that role was hers. But she couldn’t stay. She needed answers she couldn’t find here.

  Closing her eyes, she turned her face toward the breeze. Focusing on her breathing, she summoned her energy field, allowing it to wrap around her like a cocoon, drawing the tension away.

  She sensed Mya before the patter of footsteps moved across the wood floor of the gallery. When she opened her eyes, Mya stood in the doorway, her expression untroubled but her rich green energy field swirling in much the same way as Aurora’s. Apparently they both needed a little soothing.

  Mya met her gaze. “You want to talk about it?”

  Not really. But they probably should. After all, Mya understood what they were up against. “Better than ignoring it.”

  “I agree.” Mya glanced around the bare space before settling onto the wide ledge beside Aurora. “We need to get some furniture out here.”

  Furniture. Aurora almost laughed. Wouldn’t it be lovely if that were the biggest problem they had to deal with? “I’ll tell Jonarel to make it a priority.”

  Mya smiled. “There’s the sense of humor I’ve been missing.” She nudged Aurora with her shoulder. “How’re you holding up, kid?”

  Aurora sighed. “Just fine, as long as I ignore the fact that there’s an enormous carrier ship out there somewhere with countless Necri slaves onboard. Oh, that you and I have to abandon the Suulh on their new homeworld so we can go to Earth to extract information from our parents. And that Admiral Schreiber has disappeared without a trace. Other than those minor details, I’m great.”

  Mya nodded as she gazed at the stars. “That about sums it up. But at least you’re not alone.” She glanced at Aurora. “You do know that, right? This isn’t all on you.”

  The pressure on her shoulders eased, indicating she hadn’t really considered that fact. She conjured a semblance of a smile. “Thanks for the reminder.” She stared at the shadow of the mountain in the distance. “I need to keep that in mind. Ever since Drakar, I’ve been a little off track.”

  Mya snorted. “Sahzade, you never get off track. You just try to run them all at the same time.”

  The observation was so spot on it stunned Aurora into silence.

  Mya gazed at her. “But that’s a tough way to live.”

  “I know.” Aurora drew her knees up to her chest. “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve had clear goals, starting with the Academy, then becoming an officer in the Fleet, and now with the Starhawke. But this situation with the Suulh.” She swept her hand to encompass their surroundings. “It’s thrown me for a loop.” She dropped her chin onto her knees. “I’m starting to feel like a passenger in my own life.”

  “And that frustrates you.”

  Aurora nodded.

  “So what is it that you want?” Mya asked. “Honestly. If you had complete freedom to choose, how would you handle this situation?”

  She chewed on her lip as she considered the question. Seeing the carrier ship at Burrow had changed everything. At first she’d been overwhelmed, thrown into a maelstrom of emotional disarray that had led to her passionate encounter with Cade, followed by her equally emotional confrontation with Jonarel.

  But what had felt like pandemonium in the beginning was settling into something else. She was discovering that the core of her being was shifting, foc
using, and stretching in new directions. What she was experiencing wasn’t chaos. It was a part of her that had been kept in darkness coming out into the light.

  She hadn’t asked to be in charge of an entire race, but the Fates had stepped in and made it so. The only question was, how would she handle it going forward?

  “You and I have to go to Earth,” she murmured, thinking out loud. “And Cade’s team has to find out what happened to the Admiral.” She frowned. “But that leaves the Suulh without a leader.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Well, the Clarek clan could act as interim leaders, I suppose. But I don’t know how long Siginal is planning to stay.” Or whether she really wanted to leave him in charge.

  Mya shook her head. “I wasn’t referring to Siginal. I was talking about the leader the Suulh already have.”

  “That would be me. Or you. But we’ll be on Earth.”

  “Not us. Think, Sahzade. Who has been the bedrock for them since the day we found them?”

  Understanding finally dawned. “Raaveen.”

  Mya nodded. “She can’t possibly replace you. But she’s strong. And she’s beloved and respected. You might want to make use of those skills when we can’t be here.”

  Interesting concept. But there was one problem. “That’s a lot of responsibility to dump on her shoulders. Especially with Ren just beginning to recover.”

  “She’s not alone, either.” Mya mirrored Aurora’s pose, drawing her knees in. “I’ve been talking to Paaw and Zelle. They’re talented healers. Not as powerful as my family, but they’ve been filling a similar role for quite a while. They can certainly help Raaveen. And who knows? Maybe before too long, Ren will be able to help her, too.”

  “Wouldn’t that be something.” Aurora still couldn’t quite believe the transformation the man had undergone right before her eyes. Telling him about the death of his mate had been a challenge, but having Raaveen by his side had helped to soften the blow.