by Ford, Lizzy
Without its people, Anshan would die. Kiera had struggled with the foreign concept of a living planet, one with its own spirit, as alive as any of the people who lived on its surface. Able to feel Anshan in the air around her, it suddenly seemed far less complicated. She no longer dwelt on how or why a planet could be alive and instead, focused on the emotions of a being she was connected to yet unable to communicate with. What made a planet living mattered far less than saving the being who was dying before her eyes.
A’Ran couldn’t have known how his actions would affect the planet itself when he blew up the surface and made it impossible for the Anshani to return to their beloved home. She knew from her time as a battle commander that a small ground force of Anshani had remained on the planet after the Yirkin invasion to fight for A’Ran’s claim.
The planet’s fate had been dire with such a small contingent, but without any Anshani at all, it was outright dying, unable to heal itself, unable to repair the damage A’Ran had unknowingly caused by making it uninhabitable.
Anshan didn’t just need its nishani. It needed all of its people or as many as she could bring back to the planet.
The bear pawed at the air before her.
“I know, I know,” she murmured. “I think I know what to do.” She cast another worried look at the ceiling, wishing she could see the sky and moon beyond or send word to those off planet somehow. “I don’t know how to do it, though.”
Chapter Eleven
A’Ran’s newfound instinct, the one connected directly to Anshan, led him towards the mountains, but not in the exact direction he preferred to go. He was taking a leap of faith and trusting his planet to guide him. Gage was forefront in his thoughts, and he mentally calculated how much air she had every time he paused to rest the battered left side of his body. The fear of losing her drove him, along with the knowledge Kiera was a prisoner somewhere within these same mountains.
And … there was another reason nagging him, one he didn’t want to acknowledge. This range had been the seat of Anshani royalty for many generations, the location of the only palace his family ever built, the center of Anshani trade, power and mining operations.
The planet was taking him home, and he didn’t know exactly what he’d find once he arrived. Was everything he remembered decimated? Had he destroyed millennia of Anshan heritage?
Had he lost more than he saved?
The world around him grew dark as he reached the draws and spurs of the foothills around the mountains. As a child, he had played in the underground caverns and tunnels running beneath the surface. Anshan had been a mining community long before the true value of the metal became known. The world beneath its surface was as rich as that above the ground, but it had been too long since A’Ran explored the underground. He didn’t recall much about the maze of hallways running through the mountains.
He paused to rest his left leg and readjust the sling across his chest. Hunger and pain were distant in his thoughts. He had grown used to physical discomfort in exile, and the physical sensations did nothing to distract him from his goal of finding somewhere safe for Gage. With the emergency respirators, she likely had a full day left. He hadn’t yet reached the point where he needed to turn back. After a breather, he continued on, following the invisible, insistent energy trail.
The pulse of the navigator beacon became the only light, further limiting his sight, and he slowed to place his feet carefully as the sloping path became littered with shale and loose rocks. He reached a stone wall and slid into the depths of a shallow draw, stopped to right the bone bandage starting to slide out of place, and continued walking.
Draws hid many of the entrances to the underground world. The energy remained strong within him, and he walked carefully until he reached the metal door. A’Ran waved his armband before the hidden access pad at one side. The door opened, and he stepped into the tunnel system of the mountains.
Quietness descended upon him as he entered the caverns. Warm light sprang up on either side of him, and he observed the condition of the ancient tunnels briefly. They appeared to have been spared the worst of the damage, perhaps protected by the mountains. He touched the nearest wall, the cool stone welcome to his senses.
Gage would be safe here. He turned to leave and waited in front of the door. It didn’t budge. A’Ran waved his hand before the access pad. No response.
The energy was prodding him away from the entrance as well, tugging him towards the depths of the tunnel.
He pushed at the door only to find it secure.
Glaring at it, he finally turned away and started into the tunnel. He had trusted Anshan to guide him thus far, but he wasn’t certain the planet understood his sister was in danger.
It didn’t appear ready to let him leave now that he’d entered the tunnels.
A’Ran calculated Gage’s air once more and quickened his step to a jarring jog that sent spirals of pain shooting through him. The faster he got to wherever he needed to be, the sooner he could return for his sister.
He was disappointed to realize how unfamiliar the underground world was. He recalled so little of his life before war and battle, and he didn’t know for certain if he’d ever be able to return to the home that had been his growing up.
A’Ran moved through the hallways and corridors. They expanded as the tunnel system merged with the above ground corridors of the palace he vaguely recalled. His childhood home had once teemed with people and light. It was a skeleton of what it had been, an abandoned wasteland. He found himself stopping before a set of familiar doors with the symbol of the dhjan carved into them, almost able to remember when he had last stood in this spot.
A sense of loneliness followed him, not fully his own, though he felt the silence of the hallways as a weight on his shoulders, a reminder of everything that was missing from his home. Uneasiness tightened his chest the further he went into the palace. He had no fear of his home, but the condition it was in left him disturbed. He had seen many abandoned buildings on the moons of Anshan and on other planets. None of them felt abandoned like his former home did.
He entered the wing of the palace reserved for official use. The priceless statues were numerous here, and at least one chamber along the long hall was filled with enough of the gray metal tokens and statues – intended as gifts for visiting dignitaries – to fund the trade for the Five Galaxies for an entire cycle.
Treasure had long since taken a back seat to concern for the safety of his people and planet. A’Ran began to remember the purpose of each room as he passed. He spotted the open doors of the throne room and slowed his pace, drawing a dagger. No one should have been at the heart of the Anshan civilization, and any Yirkin or Qatwali or other unwelcome visitor wasn’t going to leave with his head if he came to steal what remained of Anshan’s history and wealth.
He slid into the chamber – and froze.
Kiera. And … some weird creature. It wasn’t Anshani or anything he’d ever seen on any of his visits. The creature was lying on its belly, dozing, clearly not a threat to his Kiera.
His heart somersaulted at the sight of his beautiful, brilliant lifemate, as it did every time he set eyes on her. This time, he felt the same sense he had when they first met – the near painful experience of intense energy shooting through him. It came from the planet and jarred his mind, rendering him breathless and setting his injuries on fire.
A’Ran braced himself against the wall, waiting for the sensations to pass.
“A’Ran!” Kiera’s gleeful cry pulled him from the pain of his body.
Before he could react, she’d thrown herself into his arms. A’Ran sighed deeply and hugged her to him hard, swearing never to let her go again. He breathed in her scent and marveled at the feel of her warmth and softness. He hadn’t let himself experience the fear of possibly losing her, but it hit him now, cored him, made his insides run cold even with her warm frame in his arms.
“I cannot bear to lose you,” he whispered fiercely and held her to him more tightly.
>
“You’re hurt!”
A’Ran closed his eyes, enjoying the attention. “I am well, nishani.”
“Stupid warrior,” she retorted softly. She clung to him and fluttered kisses over his features.
A’Ran opened his eyes. “How did you find this place?” he asked, gazing down into her multi-hued eyes. He cupped her cheek in one hand, needing to touch her more, to reassure himself she was truly alive and in his embrace.
She cleared her throat, her cheeks flushing pink. “I followed the …” The last word didn’t translate correctly.
“The what?” he asked.
She twisted to point at the animal.
“What is it?”
“You don’t know?” She peered up at him.
He eyed the beast. “It is not Anshan.”
“Whatever it is, it brought me here. How did you find me?”
“Anshan brought me.”
She smiled. Kiera lifted on her tiptoes and touched her lips to his in a light kiss.
No small kiss was going to appease the fire and relief in his blood. A’Ran responded by capturing her lips and deepening the kiss, wanting to devour his lifemate in passion right then and there. Kiera melted into him as she always did, and her arms went around his neck. He kissed her long and hard, hoping to convey his worry and love for her with a single kiss, because it was all they had time for now.
He broke away long before he wanted to, aware they had more challenges than time. He listened to her ragged breathing, unable to help the surge of need and heat roiling through him.
“We must go,” he said and nuzzled her hair.
“You have a communicator?”
“No,” he replied grimly.
“A’Ran, we have to contact Mansr. I know how to save Anshan.”
Startled by the calm announcement, he shifted back to search her face. “How?”
“Anshan needs its people back. All of them.”
“We cannot return them to a toxic planet.”
“We can. We have to,” she said. “A’Ran, the planet is dying. It’s the only way to fix it.”
He considered the confirmation of what they’d both suspected. Releasing her reluctantly, he started towards the door. “Mansr is close. He came with the Qatwali to search for you. When we reach him, I’ll tell him we need to the atmospheric cleaners online immediately.”
“You’re not understanding me.” Kiera’s hushed tone stopped him. “We don’t have a cycle or half a cycle to wait for the air to be cleaned. We don’t have time at all.”
“I can’t endanger my people any more than I already have. The air must be clean first,” he said firmly.
Kiera’s gaze was troubled.
“Trust me, nishani. I want what’s best for our people and planet,” he added. “We cannot know how long the planet has.”
“Yes, we can.” She stepped away from him. “I didn’t have a dream about it dying, A’Ran. I know it’s dying.”
He tested the energy within him. It felt strong and stable.
“A’Ran, I’m dying, too.”
His world seemed to stop at Kiera’s sad words. The anguish and sorrow he experienced when he thought he had lost her weeks ago returned, stealing his breath. “What do you mean?” he asked and drew near her once more.
“I went to the medic, and he told me my cells were rapidly degenerating, and there was nothing he could do to fix it,” she explained, averting her eyes. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“This is why you have been so worried?”
She nodded. “I thought you would exile me. If I couldn’t perform my duty and save the planet, if I couldn’t have children, if I couldn’t even stay alive long enough to be of any use …” Her voice broke, and tears were in her eyes.
“You thought this of me?” he asked hoarsely. “You thought I would send you away?”
“Like Gage.”
What troubled A’Ran the most: it wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities he’d consider exiling her – if he were still the man he was before they met. If he hadn’t fallen in love with her. If he hadn’t learned love trumped duty. If he didn’t openly acknowledge she was the center of his world, the only hope of his people, his anchor in a universe that had never been kind to him.
Kiera was more than his lifemate. She was his life.
He didn’t know how to express any of this and clenched his jaw.
“Would you?” she whispered, gazing up at him. “Or … will you?”
“Never.” It was the only word he could utter.
She searched his features before wrapping her arms around him once more.
A’Ran held her to him tightly, feeling as if he’d never properly appreciated his family in his life, if his sister opted for suicide and his lifemate kept such a secret from him. What good was all he did, if he sacrificed those he loved?
“Never, Kiera,” he said more vehemently. “I will exile no one, and you will never be farther from me than my eyes can see.”
“You will spare Gage?”
“I will. I have told her she can choose her own destiny. I offer the same to D’Ryn and Talal. You have shown me a better way than what I knew, and I will see them safe for my sake and happy for yours.”
She gazed up at him, tears glimmering in her eyes, and a smile on her face.
“But you will not keep secrets from me anymore, Kiera. I will not be swayed to change in this regard. We are one with each other and Anshan,” he added sternly. “You cannot be dying.” He brushed the pad of his thumb across her soft cheek. “I cannot lose you.”
“You might not,” she said, her smile fading. “I thought … well, felt it had something to do with the planet and when I got here, I kind of knew it to be true. Anshan is dying. I’m dying. There’s only one way to save both of us – by saving the planet.”
His chest was too tight to breathe, his thoughts at first silent then raging.
“Your people have to return, as many as possible, as soon as possible,” she continued in a whisper. “They can go to the caves where the Yirkin are or maybe I can make another jungle like –”
“Yirkin?”
“Oh. I forgot about that part.” She offered a weak smile. “There are thousands of them trapped in caves beneath the Anshan surface. They were able to evacuate part of their population before you blew up everything.”
“They brought you here?”
She nodded. “Their leader, Turi, heard the nishani could heal the planet. So either I succeeded in healing it so they could leave or he was going to use me as a hostage to negotiate for their freedom.”
“I will crush every last one of them!”
“That’s what got us here,” she pointed out. “And I made a vow, in your name, not to hurt any of them.”
A’Ran had a few choice words for anyone negotiating a peace treaty with his mortal enemies on his behalf, but he swallowed them, studying her features instead. Of everything going through his mind, only one thought stuck. What if this was one of the last times he looked upon the face of his lifemate? What if he failed her as he had his planet and people?
These questions sucked his anger from him, left him with the sense of despair he’d known as a prince living in exile watching his people and planet perish before his eyes.
“I made a jungle,” she said again. “We can put some people there and there’s tons of room underground. I think we can fix the planet as we go, but Anshan needs help fighting to live. It needs its people.”
“Then we will bring them. For both of you.”
“Thank you.”
The strange creature grumbled from its position at the foot of the thrones. A’Ran glanced up then back. It struck him where he was, in the place where he’d last been fifteen cycles before. Hastily elevated to the position dhjan in this very room, after watching his parents die, he’d shortly after been swept away by Mansr for a brief ceremony in the traditional place and taken by his father’s personal guard to a spacecraft before the Yirk
in’s invading forces reached the city.
The heart of Anshan was before him, the chamber that marked the beginning of his rein far quieter than it had been during the chaotic ceremony cycles ago. It felt like a completely different life, a different world.
It was no coincidence Kiera had been led here by the unfamiliar animal.
“How did you come by this creature?” he asked, moving away from her. He slid his hand into her as he stepped away, not ready to stop touching her. They approached the creature seated on its hunches.
“It found me in the jungle,” she said with a shrug. “I thought it was an Anshani animal.”
“I do not know what it is.”
“It kind of looks like a …”
The word didn’t translate correctly, but it was familiar. “The beast from the Gol-dee-locks tale?”
She nodded.
“Perhaps Anshan saw it in your mind and made it to guide you here.”
“It tried to mash something from my world with yours,” she said, considering it. “I did ask Anshan to help me in a way I understood. I was thinking of a letter or something, though.”
“It is possible it took this from your mind and tried to recreate it, thinking you would understand.”
“How incredible is such an idea?” she whispered in awe.
“You are never alone if you are an Anshani. The planet is always with you. When we are in pain, it is in pain.” He eyed the beast once more before facing her. “We need to alert Mansr immediately, but I must bring Gage here first.”
“Gage?”
“She’s on the planet. She ran away when she discovered I wanted to exile her.”
Kiera raised her eyebrows, and a familiar spark was in her gaze.
“Nishani,” he growled before she could lecture him. “I have learned my mistake.”
“I hope so. You don’t usually get second chances like this, A’Ran,” she said.
“I know.”
“I’m proud of you.” She squeezed his hand. “Is there a communicator here?”
“Everything was destroyed when we left. It is protocol not to leave anything the enemy can use,” he replied. “Mansr is on the surface. I know about where he will be. You must stay here. I will–”