“You can run back here to me, but I doubt you’d make it in time.”
“Great… well here… here…”
“Abigail.”
“Yeah.”
“I love you. Just thought I should throw that out there.”
Abby’s heart caught in her throat. With trembling hands she reached for the button and pressed. Unsure if she should open her eyes she waited for something to happen. A gust of wind blew across her face and she stumbled back, only to be caught by Barton. Panting, he cradled her in his arms.
“That was tighter than I expected.”
“How did you get here?”
“Magic?”
Abby scowled at him.
“I ran the second the lights disappeared. What can I say, I’m used to running the other direction. Ready to meet the king and queen?”
“Um… Barton, how do you know all this?” Abby’s hand went to her gun. Gonnerth’s words came to her again. Why did they pick her station? Had it all been a set up? Her and him? If it had why couldn’t she deny her heart.
“I grew up here. Now let’s go.”
“Grew up… How did you grow up here? People just don’t grow up in a castle.”
“Yes they do. Servants, advisors and guards live inside the walls with the royal family. Not all, but a chosen few.”
“And your parents were advisors?”
“In a way. Abby, I was given thirty minutes to extract the royal family.” Barton looked at a timer on his wrist. “We have eleven minutes before the army storms the castle.”
“Then why don’t we let them?”
“Because the ones guarding them will slice their throat, crown prince be damned. I can’t let that happen.”
Abby chilled at the news. Barton took her hand and led her to a ladder that went up to what could only be the top tower. Bracketed against the wall, the thin rungs each had ridges for grip, but little else. You’d think the King and Queen would have a private elevator, but then again they needed to be able to move if the power was out.
“I could get up this ladder in four minutes when I was a child. Skip rungs if you have too, but let’s move. I’m not abandoning you if you can’t see me. I have to save them and I could never have done it without you.”
Barton took off and Abby tried to keep pace. Before they even reached the first level he was ten rungs ahead of her. Her hands slipped from sweat as she attempted to grip. She wasn’t sure if she could make it.
Was her devotion to the royal family less than Barton’s? What was her devotion to anyway? Tradition? Or people? No matter who was in charge as long as they held the Gala and separated the sexes she’d be fine…
Before she knew it she was over half way up, but Barton had disappeared and she was alone trapped on a ladder to nowhere in particular. Her hand slipped again and she fell back against the wall. Teetering with only one hand gripping a thin rod she wasn’t sure if she had the strength to pull herself back. Looking down she saw nothing but a black abyss. She knew a floor was at the bottom… but how far was that bottom? Barton peered down at her, and she saw only his head was above her and a light shone on the wall across from where he was. Suddenly he shined a light in her eyes.
“Fire,” he called as her feet slipped.
Chapter Seven
Abby fell and Barton’s heart stopped. Catching a rung she pulled herself back on the ladder. If she hadn’t insisted he’d have made her stay, but if he had they would have never made it through in thirty minutes. Right now he had less than five minutes to finish retrieving his family. Now he was unsure if he could get them all and Fire out.
“Go back down.”
“The Royals are mobile?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“All of them are safe and unhurt?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then I’m coming up.”
Abby double timed it up the ladder, and Barton looked at his nieces and nephew. “Stay here. When the nice lady comes up she’ll protect you until I can get your mommy to bring you down.”
“I’s scared,” his little niece, who was barely four, said with giant tears creating a trail down her cheek.
Her hair was still tied back into a tight braid that wrapped around her head. She snuffed and wiped her gloved hand over her nose. With glittery slippers on her feet she’d be hard to keep safe going down the ladder without slipping. Hopping up he looked at his oldest niece, Margaret. She was only nine; in a year she’d be sent away. She was more regal and held her fears as she pulled her little sister against her.
“She’ll be fine, Uncle, please save our parents.”
The littlest one, his nephew, had no understanding of what was going on and would need to be carried to get him safely from the castle. A beep on his watch warned him another minute had passed. Why hadn’t he asked for forty-five minutes instead of thirty? He tapped his communicator, but the army was in radio silence until go time.
Creeping around the corner he moved a second large portrait and walked along the small corridor to the room he’d been told the adults were being housed in. The children were easy—locked in the nursery with no guards in the room, he simply got them out. Margaret had been put in charge to keep them quiet.
“I demand to see my children.” His brother Yarin’s voice was unmistakable.
As Barton looked through a small crack he saw Yarin standing beside his wife seated on a couch. Next to her was his mother and sister-in-law, Inger, wife of Kevin. His father had a head wound and was bound to a thin armed chair. If not injured his father would be able to pull and break apart the wooden chair, but he could see his wound would make it hard to transport him.
His sister was absent? Where was she? Her husband Rayne was tending his father. A soft snivel came from beside his feet and he dropped to a knee and saw her. Golden haired she stood out from her dark haired brothers. Her eyes glimmered like his.
“Sariah?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Barton? Is that you?”
“How hurt are you?”
“Not too bad.”
“Good, I need you to go to the ladder. Do you remember when you caught me sneaking out?”
“Yes… I think.”
“The portrait of the sun turning into the moon. I have the kids there. I need you to help them down. There will be a woman, send her this way.”
“Okay.” Sariah stood up and Barton saw she was newly with child also. Not as far along as Kevin’s wife, but enough to make carrying the baby hard.
“Be safe.”
Another beep sounded and he wasn’t sure if he should beg for fifteen more minutes or begin his assault. There were only four rebels in the room. The element of surprise could serve him well, but still, he couldn’t keep a gun on all of them.
“What do you need from me?” Fire panted.
“You said you could hold a gun and fake it right?”
“Of course.”
“Good, because that guy that keeps pacing around the room. When he walks by here again I’m going to snap his neck and use him as a human shield. With you as back up I should be able to recapture the room.”
“You…you’re… you’re going to kill someone… on purpose?”
“That happens. Are you going to be okay with that?” Barton asked as he watched Fire go from petrified and shocked to stoic and uneasy. That’d have to do.
Kevin’s wife cramped and doubled over, the distraction enough for him to whistle to Yarin. The low warning alerted the former soldier of an attack. He moved his hand to his wife’s shoulder and squeezed. The wandering rebel came right by the portrait and Barton struck.
The man’s neck cracked and the noise echoed through out the room. Yarin pulled his wife behind the couch in the same instance. Kevin’s wife must have had a real contraction because he stood guard in front of her. The weight of the rebel in Barton’s hands made it hard to focus on the task at hand until three shots went into him, spraying blood around the room. Barton ret
urned fire and took out two of the rebels—one in his head, the other in the throat. A strange gurgling sound filled the room.
“Release the King,” Abby ordered as she pointed the gun at the last of the captors.
Barton dropped his shield and nodded to her. Suddenly radio silence was broken and he covered his ear.
“No go, no go, Eckert. The royals are secure, but not out.”
“What was that?” a static covered voice called. “Cannot copy.”
“No go,” Barton yelled.
“They want them dead as much as we do.” The gravelly voice of Tarin brought Barton back. “Now I have you all. And in a few minutes the army will destroy everything.”
“No you don’t.”
“Your sister? The little ones? They will be met on the field. Wherever you’ve sent them we’ll find them. You’re the one I wanted all along. I knew who you were the moment you stepped into my barracks. Breeding doesn’t come off you as easily as you royals think.”
Barton cut a glance at Abby and saw the recognition in her eyes, but to her credit she didn’t lower her weapon.
“Tell me, has your doctor figured out how to cure our little disease?”
“The ill have been isolated.”
“For now, the delivery system is so easy.” Tarin stood and placed a hand on the back of the King’s neck. “A simple touch.”
“It… it… it doesn’t transmit by touch,” Abby stated.
“Not just any touch,” Tarin gloated as a thin sliver of plastic floated to the floor. “But a transdermal patch with a three second contact necessary for transmission? That kind of touch will. By how fast it took down those after cleansing I’m sure your father will be sick in a few minutes.”
His father looked at his mother who crossed and began to untie him. Outside he heard an explosion and Barton turned to Yarin.
“Now, kill me. This will carry on,” Tarin said with arms wide open.
Abby shot him through the chest.
He looked at her with shock and horror as he fell to his knees.
“I can save you,” Abby bit off. “I have the skills and I’m sure the infirmary here is better than at Harvester’s. You say you’re willing to die for your cause but I doubt you really are.”
Another explosion shook the building.
“You only have a few minutes,” Abby continued. “I’ll only save your life if you call this off and give me the cure.”
“There is no cure,” Tarin gasped.
“Then you die.” Abby walked to him and cocked the gun again as she placed it to his temple.
The room silenced as she took command. His little stuttering doctor had found her strength. With dark hair banded back into a ponytail she stood like a soldier unafraid of the fight. The only sound in the room was the heartbeat echoing inside Barton’s head. No one moved. Abby leaned to the side to inspect Tarin’s wound.
“That blood is dark red, do you know what that means?”
Tarin glared at her and placed his hand on his chest, smearing the blood.
“It means I missed your artery. You still have a chance. I’ve worked in enough labs to know about biologics. I’ve also done a psych rotation and know about megalomaniacs.”
“I don’t have the cure, it’s off world.”
“Who did you partner with?” Barton snapped. “Wolters? Are you insane?”
“They saw our weakness and exploited it.” Tarin’s dark eyes glared at Barton. “They promised me the throne. With me dead they will invade, I’m all that can stop them.”
“This wouldn’t have been sanctioned by their ruler,” his mother spoke. “I’ve met them. They are trying to move toward our way of peace.”
“Maybe not, but right now we need to get this attack to stop.”
Tarin fell to the floor and blood stained the carpet he’d played on as a child.
“I have a friend who did a physician exchange on Wolter,” Abby spoke as she dropped her gun and went to attend his father. “She may have connections or know of this illness.”
“Yarin,” Barton called. “Do you still have connections?”
“A few,” he said as he reached for a vid-link.
“Get this attack to stop.”
The next explosion had bits of the ceiling falling on them. Barton then remembered his sister. Slipping behind the portrait he cut to the nursery and saw her huddling with the little ones in the corner.
“I couldn’t. You know how I am with heights, and Urich… I couldn’t leave him behind.” She stroked the dark hair of their nephew and hugged her tightly.
His niece screamed when a blast cracked the heavy wooden door of the nursery. Reaching out he pulled them back into the room with their parents, and the children ran to the safety of their arms.
“Damn it, Eckert,” he called into his communicator. “Are you trying to kill the royal family? If so, please tell me now because we’ll come in full force against you.”
“Barton…” the voice crackled. “Barton, you’re under attack by Woltens. Get out now.”
“Your Highness, I need you to focus on me,” Abby said as she tended his father. “Can you follow my finger?”
He did, but one of his eyes was slow to react.
“We need to get out now,” Barton cried. “That’s not our army attacking us. The Woltens have declared war.”
“Call the alliance,” his father groaned. “Barton, you must speak for us. If they see me weak they will not help.”
Barton cringed at the request. He knew one day he’d have to take his father’s place, but how could he command as his father had? With a booming voice Lannis Nuril had brought Lextra into an alliance without shedding one drop of blood. Of the seven planets in the alliance theirs was the only one to achieve a peaceful transition. He remembered as a small boy his father stressing about it by the fire while his mother rubbed his shoulders. It was not his choice to join. The Lextrans were a people who chose to keep their own council. Although a handful had a bit of wanderlust, most were content in living their whole life only exploring their own planet.
“You’re ready, son. I had been only a year from being claimed when my father passed.”
“He’s not ready,” his mother’s soft voice tried to convey her worry.
Although Barton had been raised to lead when he was younger, he hadn’t yet had years of training like his brother’s had. Once claimed a royal would get specialized training you couldn’t dare take for fear of being exposed.
“He hasn’t even been claimed,” his mother exclaimed.
“Yes he has,” Fire stated plainly. “I claimed him, but it… it… I…”
“We are at war,” his mother cooed as she stroked Abby’s cheek. “The claiming would not be the same this year. The important part was he was claimed.” It was then her mother dropped her hand. “Did you know?”
“Know?”
“Who he was?”
“No, when I claimed him I only knew he had a knowledge of field medicine.”
“And that was enough?”
“There were other factors.”
His mother smiled wide. “He pleasured you.”
“Um… um… I knew before.”
Barton turned his head sharply. This was a revelation.
“In my heart I knew when I requested a station, but when he kissed me there was no going back. Traditions be damned.”
“Was there a problem?” his mother queried.
“My mask broke.”
“So did mine.” She winked.
“Okay… so I have to make a call before the next explosion takes out this room. Yarin, take them down the back way and to the safe house.” Barton pulled up a vid-screen and his father helped him find members of the Alliance. Abby stayed by his father. “You have to go too.”
“No.”
“Abby, I have a sister-in-law who may not complete the trip without going into labor. And more importantly… we’re under attack. You’re not a soldier.”
“I…I�
�� I…”
“You did great getting me here, but now I need to know you’re safe.”
Yarin put his arm around Abby and pulled her away. She broke from his hold and rushed back to Barton. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she kissed him. Salted tears fell from her eyes and slid between their lips.
“If you die, I’ll bring you back just to kill you again for leaving me.”
“Deal.” Barton kissed her again and prayed it wouldn’t be the last time he looked in her blue eyes. Her hand trailed down his arm and hand as she was pulled away.
“Barton,” she sniffed.
“Yeah?”
“I love you, just thought I’d throw that out there.”
An incoming communication broke the moment and the Chancellor of Wolten appeared on the screen.
“I’m looking for King Nuril.”
“He is indisposed,” Barton growled. “I am Crown Prince Nuril and speak for my whole planet. Cease and desist all military action or we will not only destroy the animals attacking now, we will be forced to go outside our borders for retribution.”
“Crown Prince, we are not engaged in war with you. There is a faction of militants from our planet attempting to claim your land as theirs. We harbor no ill will toward you. I was contacting your father to see if our assistance was needed.”
“Why should I agree to this?”
Five other images appeared on his vid-screen. All seven of the leaders…minus his father who he was being proxy, were now as close as they could be to being in one room.
“Some planets were able to catch the rebellion because they do not have the privacy rules you have. Three were not as lucky.”
Barton saw the leaders of Trueard, Darness, and Perlon were not sitting in regal chambers. Instead it appeared they were in makeshift bunkers.
“We are all here to assist our friends in the alliance.” The Emperor of Asher’s black eyes burned through the vid-screen. “By the time the suspects had been properly… interrogated, we discovered the extent of their plot. It was not just to overthrow our superior lineage, but enslave our loyal military. To say the least the Ascendency is no more on our planet.” The smugness oozed from the vid-screen from the successful takedown of what, to his planet, could have been deemed a playground skirmish.
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