by Amy Miles
“Bastien,” I whisper. “Let him speak.”
I can see his reluctance when he slowly lowers Coen to the bench and steps back. His muscles ripple along his arms as he tries to control his anger.
Coen rubs his neck. The red marks from Bastien’s fingers linger on his throat. “When you saved Bastien’s life the night Aloysius died, you altered the future. You know this because that was the last time you could see your future. I had not thought it possible, but you proved me wrong.” He offers me a wry smile. “Sariana did say that if anyone could do it, it would be you.”
“No,” Bastien growls. “You told us that.”
Coen dips his head in agreement. “True. The point is, the prophecy as I told you was true...at that time. Illyria changed all of that. These people are a peaceful people, but under Aloysius’ rule they could have been deadly.”
“Aloysius? I thought he was trying to prevent the war,” Bastien frowns.
“He did, the first time around. The thing you have to realize is that we are dealing with multiple timelines. Aloysius went back in time. Illyria altered time. None of this was ever supposed to happen. It certainly makes being a seer a very trying job.”
I glance at Bastien. “So if this is all true then why did I still marry Eamon if the prophecy no longer applied to my fate?”
He turns to look up at Bastien with a knowing gaze. For a moment I watch Bastien, seeing the internal battle taking place before his shoulders slump and he sinks onto the end of my bed and buries his head in his hands. “I did that. I made the choice for you and changed everything.”
Coen nods. I can see the movement from the corner of my eye but do not turn to look at him. “You did what you thought was right,” I tell him.
“As do we all,” Coen inserts, “but that does not change the fact that I could no longer see your future. That terrified me. Though I could not see your future, I could see that of your children.”
I stiffen and turn to look at him. “They have a future even if I do not?”
He dips his head with enough hesitation to send a ripple of apprehension up my spine. “At the moment they do. I can’t tell what will happen after today. It all goes black.”
“So we are all going to die?”
“That, sadly, is an answer that I do not have.”
Bastien wipes his hands across his face. “And what about Eamon?” I whip my head around to look at Bastien, startled to hear my husband’s name.
Coen’s smile doesn’t fully form and I get the distinct feeling that Coen cares deeply for Bastien. If it is true that he has been following us all this time he must have grown attached. “He is on his way.”
“Eamon?” I gasp. “He’s alive? He survived the attack on the palace back on Calisted?”
“Yes,” Bastien nods. “He survived.”
I nearly whimper with relief at the thought. Eamon can be here to see our children born but the instant the thought forms I feel a stabbing in my chest as Bastien turns to look at me. My lower lip begins to tremble as I press my fingers against my mouth. “I can’t do this again, Bastien. I can’t pretend that I don’t love you.”
His pained smile breaks my heart. “I know,” he whispers.
Tears fall freely from my eyes as he shifts to pull me into his embrace. I wrap my arms about him, desperately clinging to him. How can I endure this again? Two times is not enough to appease my cruel fate that it would demand a third farewell?
“Bastien,” Coen calls softly. Bastien presses his lips against my forehead once before he looks up. “Do not forget what I told you before. Though Illyria may have changed the need for the prophecy, part of it still stands. Only one of you can survive.”
I cling to Bastien as he slowly nods. “I know,” he whispers, his arms tightening around me. “I have always known.”
“No,” I cry out, refusing to let him pull away from me. “Get out,” I shout at Coen.
I don’t even hear him rise. I barely recognize the sound of the door closing as my heart shatters within my chest. The sound of Bastien’s resignation terrifies me. I know that he believes he will be the one to die, to sacrifice himself for me as he has done countless times before. I can’t let that happen. I changed fate once. I will do it again if I must.
“I need you.” I cling to him, pulling him as near as my swollen belly will allow. Tears dampen my hair, plastering it to my cheeks. “I can’t live without you again.”
Bastien lifts his hand and gently dries my face. “I hate how much I love to hear you say that.”
I laugh and press my cheek against his shoulder. His arms envelop me and I breathe him in, capturing this moment in my mind, sealing it away where no one, not even Kyan, could wipe away that memory.
“I won’t lose you again,” I whisper, curling my fingers into the fabric of his shirt. “I can’t.”
“You’re married.”
“I know.” I clench my eyes shut, feeling suffocating guilt rise up within me, knowing that with all that I am I wish that I were free to be Bastien’s.
“Eamon did nothing wrong,” Bastien says, speaking over the top of my head. His voice sounds pinched and fresh tears begin to fall. “All he has ever done was to love you.”
“I know,” I cry again, “but he is not you. You are all I have ever wanted. Even when we were apart I dreamed of you.”
Bastien’s hands tighten as he pulls away to look down at me. “You dreamed of me?”
“Yes,” I whisper, staring up at him through damp eyelashes. “That is how I knew you. I think a part of me was never allowed to stop loving you.”
Bastien swallows hard and glances away. I reach up and gently pull his face around. “You have always been mine and I have been yours. Our love may not have been easy, but it has always been worth fighting for.”
His eyes clench tightly shut. I can feel him fighting to remain in control of his emotions, desperate to do the right thing but this once I wish that he would let go.
“Kiss me,” I whisper.
Tortured eyes look down upon me. “If I do I may never let you go again.”
“Would that be so terrible?”
“No,” he groans and plunges his hands into my hair, drawing my face to his. I can feel his hands quaking as he holds me, staring deeply into my eyes. “There has never been anyone like you, Illyria. I have never loved anyone so entirely before.”
“And now?” I ask breathlessly.
“And now I know what I want.” He smiles and glances down at my lips. “With all of my heart I want you to be mine.”
He brushes his lips against mine with such sweet tenderness that it takes me by surprise. All the passion that he has withheld for the past year should have come bursting out but instead he holds back. I can feel his need, his desire, but also his determination to be delicate with me.
“I love you,” he murmurs as he presses his lips to the corner of my mouth, to my cheek, to my nose. His lips trail toward my ear and down to my jaw. My breathing hitches as he dips low and nuzzles the hollow of my neck.
“Bastien,” I whisper, tugging on his arm. He rises and stares at me, a warm smile tugging at his lips. “I just need to tell you--”
An explosion slams me back against the wall. Warmth seeps from a newly formed gash along the crest of my head. I slowly slide to my side, my vision blurred. I feel separated from my body. Not exactly floating overhead as some people might be prone to describe it as. More like I am trapped within my body but feel disconnected from my limbs.
I am distantly aware of pain tearing through me but can’t quite seem to care. A shadow settles over my face and I hear a voice calling my name, but it is distorted around the ringing in my ears.
I blink several times, trying to clear my vision, but I realize that the blurry quality is created by the cloud of smoke spilling in through the hole in the wall behind Bastien. As I look up into his face, the blood seeping from his brow looks in stark contrast to his pale skin.
“Illyria, are you ok?�
� I hear him shout. I groan and raise my hand, slamming my palm into my ear. He grabs my hand and pulls it away. “The ringing will stop eventually. Just hold on. I’ll get you out of here.”
THIRTY-FOUR
My head bobs against Bastien’s chest as he picks his way through the collapsed tunnel. Coen is nowhere to be seen. For that matter...neither is anyone else. I can hear the hum of lasers and the hiss of Drach’s soldiers from further down the hall. A part of me wishes that I could have seen the snake leader, to thank him for saving my life. I can only hope that I will have the chance to tell him that I misjudged him.
The compound rocks and crumbles around us. The outer walls tremble under the force of the laser battering rams. Brick dust hangs heavy in the air. The lighting overhead flickers, dangerously close to going out completely. “Hendrix has found me,” I mutter.
Bastien presses his lips into a tight line. “I’m going to get you out of here. Eamon should be here soon. Drach sent a distress signal the instant Coen arrived with word of your location. We just have to hold out long enough for him to get here.”
“But that could take days for them to arrive.” My chest clenches at the thought. What if Eamon arrives too late and we are already dead?
“Have a little faith.” Bastien smiles down at me. His face is coated with scratches and soot, but his smile is broad and brilliantly white against his darkened face. “Eamon will move planets out of the way to get to you in time.”
I close my eyes and press my hand to my forehead. The ringing in my ears has become an annoying background noise. Now I can hear shouts and screams. People are dying. I wonder how long the outer walls can last before Hendrix’s men breach through. When will this war ever end?
“He doesn’t know,” I whisper as I think about the shock that Eamon will suffer when he does see me. Fully pregnant and missing a limb. What will he think when he sees me? Will he be disgusted? Terrified? Eamon always said that he wanted children but I’m pretty sure he didn’t intend for it to happen like this!
Bastien grunts, raising his knee to help support my weight as he adjusts his grip. “Well, then he’ll have some catching up to do when he gets here.”
He shoves his elbow against a door panel and the door slides open with a hiss. Humidity, hot and stifling, slams into me and I realize that the roof has collapsed in. I can see the canopy through large holes in the ceiling. Bastien slams the control panel a second time and rushes on, not waiting for the door to close.
“Is there somewhere safe we can go?” I ask. I press my hand to my stomach, feeling a growing discomfort from cramping. I try to ignore it, to focus on the task at hand: surviving.
“I don’t know. We need to find Coen.”
“I’m here!” A shout comes from down the hall. I roll my head to the side to see him rushing toward us. The right side of his face appears to be burned, the flesh red and raw. Bastien hesitates but Coen does not as he slips his arm around me and eases some of my burdensome weight off Bastien. Together they carry me down the hall.
I cry out as a wall behind us collapses and a laser cannon spears through the hall. It swivels, taking out the upper portion of one wall and then slowly turns, locking us in its sights.
“Down!”
Coen shoves Bastien and me aside as he dives to the ground. I hit hard, much too hard for my stomach to be able to handle. I shriek as pain tears through my stomach. Bastien throws himself over me, covering my ears with his hands as the cannon blast sends lava spiraling through the air. I stare up into Bastien’s eyes, see them tighten with pain as the blast begins to heat up the material on his back, and then it is gone.
I can hear the grinding of wheels as the vehicle clambers over the outer wall and moves toward the interior. The thrum of returned laser fire gives me hope that Drach’s men are still fighting back.
“Are you ok?” Bastien coughs as he rolls his weight off the top of me.
I bite down on my lip as another wave of pain shreds my lower half. Bastien’s gaze lowers and then widens. “You’re wet. Are you bleeding?”
I shake my head, in too much pain to be able to speak. Coen appears beside Bastien and his face grows grim. “She has lost water.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“No,” Coen says, waiting until Bastien turns his full attention on him. “I mean she has been thrown into labor.”
“Now?” Bastien glances toward me and places a hand against my cheek. I bite down harder, unwilling to let him hear my screams.
“We have to get her out of here.”
“You think?” Bastien grunts as he raises me up. A shriek escapes my lips and he pales visibly. “Hold on, Illyria. I’m right here with you. I’m not going to let anything happen.”
The sounds of pounding boots fills the hall behind me and I can feel my terror mounting despite the pain. “Bastien,” I whisper and point over his shoulder. He turns to see men with raised lighted swords emerging from the wreckage behind us, picking their way over the debris. It won’t be long before they will be able to spy us through the thick cloud of smoke.
Coen throws out his hand, pointing down the hall. “Three doors down on the left. Take that hall. It will lead you to the landing bay.”
“What good is that going to do us?” Bastien grunts as Coen helps him lift me.
“Trust me. Eamon will be there.” Coen places a hand against my heart. “Take care.”
“Wait,” I cry out as he turns away. “You’re coming with us!”
“No. My time has come.” His face begins to change, distorting then sharpening. He sinks to the ground and when I look back I blink, shocked to find myself lying in his place.
“Bastien,” I call out, clutching my stomach as another pain strikes. A breath hisses through my teeth as he struggles forward. He slams his fist into the control panel on the third door then looks back.
He seems startled to see me lying in the hall, clutching my stomach in agony. “I’ll never get used to that,” he mutters and turns his back on Coen. I glance back one final time and look straight into my own eyes. I smile, silently thanking him for saving my life yet again.
I try to help Bastien as he slowly moves along the hall, but hopping becomes a near impossibility as another contraction hits me. I bite down so hard on my lip that I can taste blood seeping between my teeth.
“Almost there,” he grunts. I know that he is hurting, that he is exhausted and yet he doesn’t give up. He can’t. He will fight to his last breath to protect me.
I turn my head and press my lips against his neck as the contraction begins to ease. My breathing grows a bit less labored and I retract my nails from his arm. “Almost there,” he mutters again and I know that he is trying to reassure himself of our progress.
I can hear shouting from behind the closed door that we entered through. They have found Coen. How long will it take before they discover our ruse and put him to death?
Bastien stumbles and we slam into the wall. He breathes heavily in my ear as he grunts and forces himself to stand upright. My hand drapes down his back and he cries out. I yank my hand back, realizing that my hands are dark with soot and fresh blood. “Your back!”
“I’m fine,” he insists and stumbles forward again. I can tell that he’s not. He’s moving too slow.
I stare at the door at the end of the hall and realize that we still have too far go. “Leave me.” I push against his arm. “Go get help and come back. I can’t go any further.”
“Why do you always say stupid things like that when you know it’s not even an option?” He adjusts his grip again and presses on, using the wall to help him push us forward.
“I’m serious.” I clench my teeth as I begin to feel my muscles contract. I know the pain is coming, hard. I don’t know how much longer I can hold back my screams. I clench my fists tightly, digging my nails into my palms as a deep groan echoes in my throat.
“Bastien,” I growl, and shove against him. Surprised by my push his arms come free from around
me and I collapse back into the wall. I hardly feel the pain in the back of my head as I slump to the floor, breathing hard and fast. Bastien recovers quickly and is at my side long before the contraction hits its peak. “Do it. Go get help.”
His face is a mask of misery as he glances toward the door. “You know it’s the only way.”
“I can’t leave you,” he protests.
I hiss as my contraction spikes. My fingers dig into the wall and ground beside me. My teeth grind hard enough to fear breaking a tooth off. “I’ll die if you don’t,” I grunt.
The pain is all I can focus on. I try to look at Bastien, to focus on his face but it isn’t enough. I am quickly losing myself to the agony.
“Please,” I beg, though I’m no longer sure what it is that I am begging for. Relief? Safety? Pain medicine? Probably all of the above!
I feel his hand clench mine and then he is gone. I slowly slide down so that I am lying on the floor. It is hard to breathe with the smoke billowing in through vents in the ceiling. Parts of the compound must be on fire. Is it nearby? Will the flames come for me before I am able to escape?
My hand trembles as I place it over my belly. You sure have terrible timing, I think to my children.
A small flutter in my mind startles me. I blink. Can you hear me? I call again. Another flutter. As the pain begins to fade I feel a smile cross my face. I know that they can hear me. Your father is coming for you. Just hold on a little longer.
Warmth begins to flood into my chest. I gasp, overwhelmed with the sensation. Love, I realize. They are giving me love.
Light comes and goes from the hallway as I lay my head back against the floor, staring at the lamps overhead. The brilliant white light I have grown accustomed to on this planet seems far too dull to be right. It makes the walls look dingy and decaying.
“Illyria!”
I turn my head at the sound of approaching footsteps pounding down the hall. Someone drops to my side and hands clasp my shoulders. I look up into familiar blond hair and smile. “Eamon,” I whisper.