Beyond the Rain

by Jess Granger

  Not until now.

  “You’ve manipulated my entire life. You turned a blind eye to the others’ attempts to kill me.” Cyani’s seething hate boiled in her throat as she tried to force words out.

  The Grand Sister let out a dismissive huff. “I made you stronger than any other warrior the Elite have ever known. I needed to know you could best any of them, and survive any attempt on your life.” She placed the whip on her desk, but kept her palm on the handle. “I’m dying, Cyani. All I have is my legacy. That legacy is you. Think of what you could do for Azra. Think of the power.”

  So that was it. All the power in the world couldn’t save her aunt from death. Only an heir in her likeness could maintain her rigid control on Azra and make her mark on their world last.

  She had her puppet. She made sure Cyani’s strings pulled tight. For more than half her life, Cyani had never fought them. No wonder the old woman thought she could still pull them now. The Grand Sister had no idea who she was dealing with.

  Not everyone craved power. Cyani didn’t want the throne. She wanted peace and safety. But like a snake, the call to duty crawled into her heart. She could dispense justice. She could bring light and order to the underbelly of their world and lift the innocents back into the fold of their society. She could instill the representative government her mother had been ruined for and revolutionize Azralen culture.

  She alone could save her planet.

  And due to the conniving of her aunt, she had the strength to fight off any assassins that tried to stop her. Once the others knew she was the true blood of Fima and Cyrila, they would fall in line. She would have justice for her people.

  But she would never know peace.

  She felt the chains that had tied her to the Elite constricting even tighter around her heart. She would have the power to change her world. She had to return.

  She couldn’t leave her people in the darkness, not even for the promise of love.

  Her fate was sealed.

  She felt the Grand Sister’s bony grip close around her arm. “You are Fima reborn. My blood, my daughter. Cyani the Ruthless, the next and greatest Grand Sister.”

  A ringing chime echoed through the room.

  “What is it?” the Grand Sister asked without bothering to hide the aggravation in her voice.

  “There is a Union representative here demanding that Captain Cyani depart with him,” a disembodied voice announced.

  With a grumble, the Grand Sister slowly lowered the mantle over her shoulders and marched out into the throne room with a slight shuffle in her deliberate steps.

  Cyani continued after her with a new wave of panic. What was Cyn doing? He was going to be recognized.

  The Grand Sister stopped just short of him and looked up into his disguised black eyes. He smiled at her.

  “Cyani has been relieved of her duties and belongs to me,” the Grand Sister announced.

  Cyani watched Cyn carefully. She could barely recognize him. Even his expressions seemed different as he calmly addressed her as a Union diplomat.

  “I apologize for the misunderstanding, but Captain Cyani has not been cleared of her final mission. She is to aid me in my current assignment as is clearly stated in the log orders filed U.C.O.-55467.82 section L. Until I sign her clear, she is under the jurisdiction of the Union Treaty of Common Arms and is subject to criminal prosecution under military tribunal if she rejects this assignment. Surely you don’t want to break the Treaty of Common Arms, your holiness. The Union and Azra have a long-standing alliance in good faith. It would be unfortunate to have Union rights enforcers rethink your exemptions from the T.C.R.” Cyn prattled in the flawless Earthlen accent he had undoubtedly picked up during his leisurely youth on Earth, while Cyani suffered through the trials for his freedom.

  The Grand Sister flushed, though her face remained as stony as ever. She brought up the holo-screen and scrolled through the standing orders. As she read, her lips pressed into an even harder, thinner line.

  “Earthlen,” she grumbled. “We had an incident on the landing platform where your ship is docked. It seems a trans-shift energy pulse went off. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? Because deliberate interference with our communications systems could be viewed as an act of aggression on Azra.” The Grand Sister carefully studied him, but Cyn didn’t even blink.

  “I apologize. My discharger must have been damaged during my last assignment. No offense was meant. As you can see, my ship never left the landing platform.” He bowed to her.

  “Indeed.”

  “And after your very thorough search of my ship, I trust that you are satisfied with the confirmation of your security measures.” Cyn smiled his most charming smile.

  The Grand Sister drew a long slow breath before turning her back to Cyn and addressing Cyani. “I expect your return,” she stated. “You know what’s at stake. If you fail me, I will send Yara to the ground cities for your brother. Are we clear?”

  Cyani fought the urge to look at Cyn. In the corner of her eye she could see him absentmindedly study the carvings on the Azralen throne as if he had not just heard orders for his own execution.

  Yara was the best, the only member of the Elite capable of beating her during a sparring match, though their record was about sixty-forty in Cyani’s favor. Yara was relentless, driven, efficient, loyal, and very, very good at striking when least expected. If she had a weakness, it was her adherence to her training instead of instinct. Yara had never been in a fight for her life, but Cyani had no doubt the woman would be deadly if unleashed. Cyn wouldn’t be able to hide from her, even with his Earthlen disguise. She would find him. She was the Grand Sister’s true puppet. Yara would obey orders, even if those orders were to kill.

  “I see we have an understanding. Good. We have much to discuss when you return.”

  The Grand Sister gathered the edge of the mantle and, with a flourish, disappeared back into her chambers.

  Cyani felt dizzy and sick as she drew her gaze to her brother. He had no idea what she had just been through. From the revelations of her family ties, to the heavy weight of her future on Azra, she needed time to adjust to her new future.

  And then there was Soren.

  She would honor her promise and see him reach home, but how would she find the strength to walk away?

  Cyn offered her an understanding smile. “Get your things, Captain. It’s time to leave this place.”

  18

  IF THE GRAND SISTER DIDN’T MURDER CYN, CYANI WAS READY TO DO IT HERSELF. What was he thinking walking directly into the snake pit? Cyani had just discovered her brother was safe. Safe from himself? That was another matter. She was grateful she’d be able to see Soren safely home, but it wouldn’t change anything.

  She had to return.

  She held the future of Azra in her hands.

  She lifted Vicca into the ship, thankful that the Grand Sister hadn’t been able to take her away without giving Cyani another scout to replace her. For the moment, Vicca was safe.

  The thought of returning to the halls sent a cold chill down her spine. She couldn’t dwell on it. Like learning nerve strikes, it was best to take the pain quickly and be done with it. She had to get Soren home as fast as possible and say good-bye, before her heart could betray her head.

  She glanced up and locked gazes with Soren. He reclined in the corner of a bunk, holding a sleeping toddler with the tell-tale dark hair of a ground dweller. Soren’s eyes faded from their clear violet blue to a deep blood black.

  “Where is your necklace?” he asked as his brow lowered over his dark eyes.

  Cyani felt sickening unease crawl through her gut. Shakt, she didn’t want to hurt him, but what did he expect? She wanted to tell him what had happened, that the necklace had been ripped from her. She had not given it up. That part of her wanted to collapse into his arms and just cry for the loss of it, but she couldn’t. She had to sever her connection to him, even though it would be like slicing out a part of her
. Perhaps it was best that the necklace was gone. Now she couldn’t cling to it, and it couldn’t tie her.

  “What are you doing with a ground baby?” she asked instead, keeping the conversation from her necklace. How did he get a ground baby? Gracious Esana the Noble, they had gone to the ground. His eyes darkened even more as a muscle twitched in his clenched jaw.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “And you didn’t answer mine.” What had they done?

  Vicca leapt up on the bed and licked the baby’s elbow.

  “I’m helping smuggle them out of this blighted place,” he snapped.

  “They aren’t properly smuggled until we get them off the planet,” Cyn interjected as he passed between them into the cockpit. He released Bug, who went to work touching off launch codes on the copilot side. “We’ve got to move, now. You two can fight later.”

  “Girls, are you strapped in?” he shouted.

  Cyani spun as a young girl streaked through the hold and launched herself onto the bed with Soren. She giggled as Vicca licked her face. What was going on? How many kids were on the blasted ship?

  She felt the presence of another. Her heart sank as she turned to a young girl, no more than thirteen, her abdomen swollen with pregnancy. Her long dark hair rested on her shoulder in a neat braid, but her haunted eyes studied Cyani with a wary resentment.

  “You are one of the Elite,” the girl commented.

  Cyani felt like she was staring into her past, a past that hadn’t been, but could have been. This is the girl she would have been if she hadn’t fought, if she hadn’t killed.

  “I am,” Cyani whispered. She didn’t like the accusation in the girl’s eyes.

  Why didn’t you save me?

  The girl’s hands strayed over her distended belly as she lowered her head in reluctant submission and passed Cyani on her way to the bunks.

  Cyani braced herself in the doorway. She didn’t want to look Soren in the eye. He rested his cheek against the curls of the baby boy as the little girl pressed into his side, snuggling Vicca.

  Cyn had taken him into the ground cities. She could see a new understanding in his eyes. He had empathized with her before based on his own darkness, but now he knew the truth. Cyani felt ripped open and exposed as the thread of a new intimacy wove between them. He knew her.

  The Elite never braved the shadows, but he had. He knew.

  Her hand strayed to her necklace, only to touch her bare collarbone. She clenched her fist and slammed it against the wall. Every foul curse any of her men had ever uttered in the thick of battle raced through her mind.

  “Hold on,” Cyn announced as the ship wobbled as it rose off the landing pad then streaked out over the swaying green tops of the high canopy. The ground plummeted out from beneath them as they flew over the savage ocean. Then the nose of the ship lifted, and with a sudden push of acceleration they launched out of Azra’s atmosphere into the black emptiness of space.

  Cyn punched commands into the controls and the ship surged forward into macrospace. Cyn stretched his shoulders and entered the now crowded quarters. “We have to make a stop near Fagawi to meet with a friend of mine. He’ll take the children the rest of the way before we continue on to Byra. Soren, what are the coordinates?”

  “What coordinates?” he asked.

  “For Byra,” Cyn prodded.

  “How in this blighted pile of rot would I know?” he snapped.

  “Easy, tiger. I was just asking. Cyani, do you know?”

  “The Union doesn’t have a clue where Byra is. That’s why they’re paying you, remember?”

  “So you’re telling me, none of us knows where we’re going?” Cyn growled. Bug zoomed around, either confused or amused by Cyn’s irritation.

  Cyn vigorously rubbed his shorn hair and ran his hand over his face. “Fine. I’ll ask Xan when we meet him. If that old space rat doesn’t know where it is, then we’ll have to get creative.”

  Soren didn’t like the sound of that. At the same time, any delay in reaching his home world was a blessing. All that waited for him there was the grave. As long as he remained with Cyani, he had hope.

  But she had taken that hope and left it behind. It was nice to know that it only took an hour or two for everything they had shared, everything they had survived together to mean nothing to her. She looked hard and regal in the white clothing of her planet.

  He had offered her a way to escape, and time and time again, she returned to her duty.

  He loved her so terribly it was going to kill him, and yet he came second to her orders.

  And even with all of that, he could see the price she paid for her duty. It was killing her, too. The way her hand had strayed to her neck hadn’t escaped him. She wanted the necklace. Her face seemed shadowed and hidden, as if she were trying to hold back from him.

  She should have known she couldn’t do that.

  “What duty did the Grand Sister lay on your shoulders?” he asked. At the very least she could tell him why she chose her path instead of his.

  Her eyes slowly pulled up as her full lips pressed into a stiff line. “It’s nothing,” she mumbled.

  “No, it’s not,” he countered. He was losing her, and with her, his life.

  The gut-dropping surge from the drop out of macrospace caught Soren off guard. He cradled the baby closer, protecting his little head with his palm.

  “Right on target,” Cyn commented as Soren caught a glimpse of a large, tattered ship orbiting a deep blue and gold moon.

  “Damn it, Cobra, do you have to jump down so close?” a very deep voice boomed through the popping static of the communication channel.

  “I’ve got three for you, Xan. Keep it down, the baby’s asleep,” Cyn answered. He carefully maneuvered the ship above the much larger one, and with a shuddering clunk, they docked. “Are you ready to go, little ones?” Cyn asked the young girl.

  She clung to his hand. “I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you.”

  Essa put her hands on Calya’s shoulders as Soren stood up from the bunk, still carrying the baby. He understood. He didn’t want to let go either.

  Cyn knelt down. “I’m sorry, princess. I can’t go with you. You can trust Xan. He will take you to your new home.”

  “I’m scared,” she admitted.

  Just then the hatch opened and a hard-looking man with shoulder-length barley gold hair entered the hold. He had the confident swagger of a man who started fights—and won them. Even though he wore dark eyeshades, he lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the dim light.

  “For the love of a fat woman, Cobra, are you trying to blind me?” he grumbled. “Again.”

  The pirate crossed his thick arms and squared his heavy shoulders over his somewhat stocky build. He cocked his head to the side.

  He gave Cyn a quick appraising look. “You look too damn respectable. Who do you have for me?” he asked before glancing at Soren. “A Byralen? Where’d you find him?”

  Soren felt his eyes flash in warning. Calya tucked herself behind his thigh.

  Cyani crossed the quarters to stand at his side. “Don’t worry, Soren, he’s Hannolen.”

  “He’s scary,” Calya commented.

  The pirate laughed, then knelt down and motioned for Calya to come closer. She peeked from behind Soren’s thigh, but wouldn’t budge.

  “It’s okay, duckling. I’m going to help you.” Like magic, with a flick of his wrist, he pulled a scarlet flower out of thin air. The little girl reluctantly came forward only a centimeter.

  “You look like a very bad man,” she scolded.

  He smiled. “It’s a disguise,” he admitted in a conspiratorial whisper.

  “That’s true,” Cyn added. “He’s really a prince.”

  Calya looked up at Cyn, then back at the pirate, who managed to glare through his dark shades.

  Essa took Calya’s hand as Soren reluctantly handed the baby to her. “Don’t worry, Calya, I’ll protect you,” she stated, thoug
h her voice wavered. “Thank you, both of you. I will keep them safe.” She nodded a quick good-bye and joined a sweet-faced female crew member of Xan’s ship who helped them through the hatch.

  Soren’s arms felt very empty and cold. He took a step closer to Cyani, but she closed herself off from him. Vicca wound around his legs, but it was little comfort.

  Cyn and Xan clasped hands like old friends.

  “I wouldn’t ask this of you, unless I had to,” Cyn began. “We need to know the coordinates for Byra. The Garulen know where it is.”

  “I haven’t come across it, or heard of anyone who has. If the location of Byra became common knowledge . . .” The Hannolen tipped his head to the side.

  If the location of Byra were known, Soren’s home would be overrun the way Hanno was.

  “You could ask your people,” Cyn suggested. “The ones still held by the Garulen might have heard something.”

  The pirate stiffened. “I’m going to forget you just said that, and don’t ever ask again.” He turned back to the hatch. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help.” He glanced up at Soren, “Good luck finding your way home.” And with that, he disappeared.

  “Now what?” Cyani asked, collapsing into the copilot’s seat.

  Cyn shrugged and stalked over to the cramped galley. “I say we get drunk.” He poured a glass of amber liquid from a silver cylinder, and tipped it toward Soren. Soren flicked his wrist to take him up on the offer. He could use a drink.

  Cyani shook her head at them, but Cyn just smiled at her. His face fell when the ship detached and shook with the force of Xan’s ship departing.

  “Godspeed, little ones,” he muttered and lifted his glass. Soren solemnly took a sip and nearly choked. The liquid burned like fire down his throat and left his mouth filled with the taste of smoke.

  “Well,” Cyn mentioned, cracking his knuckles. “I guess we’d better do this the hard way. Tell me everything you know about Byra. Start with your star system. Do you have any moons?”

  “One, it’s small but close. And there is another world in close orbit with ours.”