The Diatous Wars 1: Rebel Wing

by Tracy Banghart

  At the sound of her voice, they broke apart.

  “Uh . . .” Aris stood there, still panting from her run, mind whirling. What the blighting hell is going on?

  Without a word Daakon pushed past her, eyes down, the lines of his round face tight. For another second, Aris and Dysis stared at each other, mouths open. Then Dysis moved to close the door, yanking Aris into the room.

  “Dysis, what were you doing?”

  “Don’t look at me like that.” Dysis flopped onto the bed. She propped her head on her bent arms and stared at the ceiling.

  Aris sank onto the edge of her cot, still trying to erase the tenderness of Daakon’s expression from her mind. It wasn’t a look she’d been meant to see.

  And then she realized what it meant. “You told him about us, didn’t you? How could you!” Her voice shook. They’d lose their positions, be sent to jail. Gods, not now.

  Dysis glared at her. “Of course I didn’t tell him. I’m not stupid.”

  Aris relaxed slightly, confusion creeping in. “But then . . . you’re saying he thinks you’re a man?”

  “He doesn’t seem to mind, does he?” Dysis’s broad cheeks were flushed red as boiled crawgigs.

  “What exactly was going on? Because it looked . . . well, it looked like—”

  Dysis sighed. “It was nothing. We’ve been doing extra training together, that’s all. He’s been helping me a lot. He’s actually really nice, you know?” She paused, but when Aris didn’t say anything she continued, “We just . . . started talking.”

  “You were talking?” Aris bent to pull off her boots. Had she imagined it? No, they’d been holding hands. And Daakon’s dark eyes had been locked on Dysis’s. It had almost looked like they were about to kiss, or they just had.

  “Yeah, talking.” The hard edge was back in her sectormate’s voice. “About Jax. Lieutenant Daakon seemed okay with me asking, so I kept pushing, hoping he’d have information for me.” She sat up, drumming her hands on her knees. “And then, I don’t know. He seemed interested.”

  “You can’t let him be interested!” Aris stood. The panic was building again, tight in her chest. “What happens if he touches you? Or takes your clothes off? He thinks you’re a man and you’re not! Do you think he’ll just smile and say that’s okay? Not to mention he’s an officer! If he finds out, we’re gone.”

  In a flash, Dysis was off the bed and standing nose to nose with Aris. “I know. Don’t you think I know? But he’ll tell me, now, if he hears news of Jax. He’ll—”

  “So you’re using him? That’s your big plan to find Jax? Seduce the Lieutenant?” Aris gave her a little shove, forcing more space between them.

  Dysis threw up her hands and turned away. “Yes, that’s my plan,” she said, but there was bitterness as well as anger in her voice.

  “But that’s . . .” Aris didn’t know what to say.

  “What? Terrible? Cold?” Even though Dysis’s voice was soft, it hummed with tension. “I don’t have a choice. Jax isn’t safe, like Calix.”

  Before Aris could protest, Dysis went on. “And so what if I did have real feelings for Daakon? It’s like you said. Nothing can ever happen between us.”

  Aris stood in the center of the room and watched Dysis pace. It was like being in a cage with a lion. She had the sense that if she moved, even a little, Dysis would snap. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, trying to calm her own pounding heart.

  Dysis didn’t say anything. She moved to the doorway of the washroom and stared at herself in the mirror. Her face twisted, and then she was scrabbling at the back of her neck. There was a click, and as the veil shimmered and melted away, her face crumpled, and tears ran down her soft female cheeks. She turned away from the mirror, her head down. “Holy hell, I can’t do this.”

  “Dysis . . .” Aris held her hands up, palms forward, in a placating gesture. Without warning, the taller girl threw herself into Aris’s arms.

  “I can’t. I know I shouldn’t like Daakon, but I do. And every single time he looks at me, my heart breaks because he doesn’t see me. He’s not looking at me that way.” Dysis sobbed against Aris’s shoulder. “And you know what I see everyday? I see Jax. Every time I look in the mirror, I see him staring back at me. We always looked alike, but now, with this. . . .” She threw her diatous veil onto her pillow.

  Aris led Dysis to her cot. They sat, Aris’s arm still around her sectormate’s shoulder.

  Dysis sniffed. “I have nightmares,” she whispered, “Jax is in a hole in the ground, and there are worms crawling on his face, and I’m there, right beside him, and I can feel them, too, against my skin . . .”

  Aris tightened her arms around Dysis, trying to banish the awful image called up by her words. “Shhh . . . shhh . . .”

  “I’m here to find him, blight it, and then I’ll catch myself making moon eyes at Daakon and wishing I really was a man!” She choked back a sob. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

  “Dysis, you’re Jax’s sister. And you’re a gunner. That’s who you are.” Aris swallowed her own sob. “It’s all going to work out, remember? You’re going to find Jax, and I’m going to find Calix, and in the meantime, we’re going to keep on saving lives. Remember what we said?”

  “About winning the war?” The bitterness in Dysis’s voice was an ugly thing. “Grow up.”

  Aris gave her a little shake. “Stop it. What we’re doing here matters. You know that! We found that family in Tarik, didn’t we? Because of us, Ward Nekos has proof that Safara is killing innocent people. We’ve already made a difference.”

  Dysis pulled herself slowly from Aris’s arms. Her face was red and streaked with tears. She shook her head, as if clearing it. “They would have found that family, that whole village, without us. You’re here for Calix, and I’m here for Jax. That’s all. We’ll stay until we find them, fight with them as long we can, but when they go home, we’ll give this up. Go home with them. That’s all this is.”

  “Is it?”

  “You know it is.”

  Aris twisted her hands together. Would she really leave her unit, just walk away, if Calix returned to Lux? “I forget sometimes that we’re not real soldiers.” She glanced at Dysis. “We’re not, are we?”

  Dysis heaved a deep breath and wiped at her face. With a final sigh, she straightened her shoulders and carefully replaced her veil. In a moment, she looked like the Dysis Aris knew—square jaw, steady brown eyes. “Well, we are for now.”

  Chapter 35

  Pyralis sank onto the edge of his bed with a sigh. The meeting with his advisors had run long—hours and hours too long—and he wanted nothing more than a hot shower and the oblivion of sleep. Not that he’d find oblivion.

  He kneaded the perpetual sore spot at the base of his skull. These days, when he finally closed his eyes, all he found were endless parades of numbers. Numbers of soldiers dead. Numbers of villages razed. Refugees. Civilian victims. The months it would take Tech engineers to develop new, more effective weaponry. The number of times he thought about comming Galena, only to change his mind before hitting send.

  She was back in Ruslana now, buddying up to Ward Balias. Letting Atalanta burn.

  What he couldn’t figure out was why. What could possibly have happened to make her change her views so completely? Was it the memory loss her menders spoke of? Some other, more nefarious design? Was she being coerced? Threatened?

  He kept playing their last conversation in his head, wondering if he’d missed something. Her blank politeness. Her shock when he’d touched her hand. Was it all some kind of message? Was he meant to know something from what she didn’t say? How she didn’t act?

  But his spies had found nothing suspicious. And his feelings were just that. Feelings. No proof that she’d done anything but change her mind.

  He dragged off his clothes and stepped into the shower, his thoughts as tangled and elusive as a basket of writhing snakes.

  He’d thought he could trust her, that their past connec
ted them. When she’d been willing to help Atalanta, he’d hoped she might even have forgiven him. But she’d made it clear her support had nothing to do with him. The sanctions and all the rest were because she believed it was the right thing to do. She wouldn’t make his dominion pay the price for his transgressions.

  When he’d moved to Ruslana so many years ago, he’d just been selected for Military. He was young, Promised, and bright-eyed at the thought of learning Military strategy from some of the most influential officers of the Ruslanan Military.

  He’d met Galena in a park. It had been freezing, snow was falling, the world was white and gray. She was dressed in a yellow coat, like a bolt of sunshine. When he’d said hello, that’s all it was meant to be. Just a short conversation among strangers enjoying the chilly afternoon.

  It was never supposed to go as far as it did.

  Pyralis let the hot water run over his face and rush in his ears. He’d thought he was doing the right thing, leaving her. He had his commitments back in Atalanta. Bett was waiting for him. He’d thought it was the noble, honorable thing . . . ripping out his own heart for his dominion. And the Promise he’d sworn to keep.

  But he hadn’t thought about what his decision would do to Galena, or what would become of her heart. And he never guessed how his choice would haunt him, what it would cost him, even after twenty-five years.

  There had been bitterness in her eyes often enough recently. Perhaps despite her noble words, she’d let the ugliness, the pain, win. It was disappointing. But who was he to pass judgment? How could he expect her forgiveness, when he’d never forgiven himself?

  Chapter 36

  Commander Nyx called an early-morning formation to announce the next mission. “We’ve received reports that a combat wingjet went down last night in a particularly hazardous portion of Mittaka. From radio transmissions, it is believed at least one of the soldiers survived. There were three men aboard. Because of the terrain and number of targets, we’ll be sending only one recon and transport jet for this mission. Haan, Lieutenant Wolfe, you’re our flyers. Latza, gunner. Galec, retriever. Stay here for briefing with Major Vidar. The rest of you are dismissed.”

  Aris stood at attention as the rest of the soldiers filed back inside the building.

  Please let it be Revening or Mekia this time.

  She told herself that’s what mattered, finding Calix, but truthfully, she’d settle for any mender stationpoint, Calix or no Calix, if it meant the soldiers they were retrieving were still alive.

  “Specialist Latza, you’ll be gunner for Lieutenant Wolfe,” Major Vidar said. “Aristos, I’ll fly with you.”

  Aris flicked a glance at Dysis, surprised. It was the first time she’d been called for a mission without her sectormate as her gunner.

  As Aris climbed into the recon beside him, she tried to divine the reason he’d chosen to fly with her. Did it have to do with the last mission? Was it some kind of test?

  She tightened her damp palms on the controls and fought to keep her face still. She would keep it together this time. It was her job. She would do it right.

  “First time out on your own?” Major Vidar asked, after they’d flown in silence for a while.

  She covered her start of surprise with a shrug. “What do you mean, sir?”

  “This your first time out of Lux?”

  “No, sir. I’ve spent some time in Panthea as well, sir.”

  “I’ve never been to Lux. You like it?”

  Granite cliffs and the yellowy green of the olive groves filled her mind. She smiled. Her hands relaxed a little on the wingjet controls as she pictured the turquoise of the ocean, the loveliness of the scenery. “I love it there. It’s as beautiful as the women, sir.” Men always talked about women when they mentioned home.

  “Are you Promised?”

  “No, sir.” She was going to leave it at that, but heard herself saying, “I have a girl, back there. But I didn’t think it would be fair to ask her to Promise when I would be gone, not knowing when I’d return.”

  “Chivalrous, Aristos,” Major Vidar said, sounding amused. “Don’t you worry she’ll decide to Promise to someone else? Or ring around?”

  “Of course I—she wouldn’t do that,” she blurted, the question throwing her off. She snuck a glance at him. He’d raised an eyebrow, which pulled the scarred corner of his mouth up, accentuating his perpetual sneer. Flustered, she kept talking, “My girl . . . she’s loved me since she was twelve, sir. She told me before I left that she’d wait, no matter how long it took. She wanted to Promise.” It was strange to talk about herself this way, as if she were Calix.

  “Ah. But you weren’t ready.” Major Vidar nodded.

  “No, I was ready, sir. I just thought . . .” She didn’t like the conversation all of a sudden. “Promise is all about growing closer, learning about each other. And we couldn’t do that with me here. As soon as I get home, we’ll be together.” She could hear the defensiveness in her voice as she gave Calix’s reasons.

  Major Vidar seemed oblivious to her inner turmoil. “And what is she doing, while she waits so patiently for you?”

  “She’s just a village girl, sir. Works on her father’s farm.” That life seemed alien now. She could be describing a stranger. She tried to imagine going back to Lux with Calix, spending the rest of her life dusting olive groves. But all she saw was her father, leaning against an olive tree, smiling, hand up to shade his eyes as he stared along the line of softly rustling leaves.

  That was his place, not hers.

  Without warning, tears built behind her eyes. She fought them back, refusing to explore the tangle of feelings clogging her throat. This wasn’t the time. Major Vidar wouldn’t be so understanding if she got emotional now, with no dead bodies or danger threatening.

  “And what about you, sir?” she asked, pushing back just a little. “Are you married?”

  Major Vidar laughed, but the sound had a bitter edge. “Not even close.” He shifted in the small jet, his shoulder brushing hers. “You know what they say about women and scars, Aristos?”

  She had no idea. “Yes, sir.”

  “Don’t believe it. More frightening than appealing, I’ve found.”

  She snuck a glance at the pink line that ran along his pale skin. Personally, she thought it was neither frightening nor appealing. More . . . intriguing. She cleared her throat and returned her eyes to the nav panel.

  He sat up and pressed the button on his helmet. “Lieutenant Wolfe, I’ve got a lock on the location. Going in for a closer look. Stand by.”

  “Standing by, sir,” Wolfe’s voice scratched over Aris’s headset. At Major Vidar’s order, she dove and glided closer to the tree line. Vidar switched on the heat-seeking setting on the nav panel.

  Below them a carpet of trees rippled along curving ridges, the remains of ancient roads peeking through the green in twists of pale gray. A flash caught Aris’s eye. At first she thought it was a missile, but her nav panel didn’t go crazy, and Major Vidar didn’t react.

  “Did you see that, sir?” She dipped lower and turned to make another pass.

  “What?” He looked intently out the window.

  “A light—there.” She pointed right in front of them and slowed further to get a better look.

  A rocky hill emerged from the trees, an umber island in an ocean of green. Upon the hill two small figures jumped up and down. One of them held something that flashed.

  “They’re signaling us, sir!” She halted their forward movement and hovered, slowly losing altitude. “Shall I land?”

  Major Vidar stared at the men, eyes narrowed. “No. They’re gesturing toward the trees, perhaps toward their downed wingjet.” He pressed the button on his helmet, “Lieutenant, we have visual confirmation of the target.” He gave the coordinates. “Commence retrieval. Haan and I are going to try to find their jet; still one soldier unaccounted for.”

  He turned to her. “Can you see the direction they’re pointing? To the West.”


  “Yes, sir.” She tipped her wing at the men, to acknowledge their message, then wheeled away in the direction they’d indicated.

  “Do you think their comrade is still alive, sir?” she asked as they flew over the trees, looking for signs of the crash.

  “He survived the landing, at least. Those men wouldn’t be sending us elsewhere unless they believed he was still alive. But he’s injured, or he’d be with them.”

  “Sir, why wouldn’t the Safaran soldiers who shot them down go after them?” Just the thought gave her chills. According to Commander Nyx, they’d gone house by house in Tarik, executing anyone who wasn’t able to evacuate in time.

  “It’s possible they did but couldn’t find them in the rough terrain. Or they assumed there would be no survivors.”

  “That’s lucky, sir.”

  His voice took on a stern edge. “Luck has nothing to do with it, Aristos. Whatever they did, it was a tactical decision. And we’ve made our own choices in response.”

  Another reflection caught her eye. “Sir, I see something.” As she pointed, a red splotch bloomed on the nav panel.

  He peered down at the wreckage as Aris did a sweep.

  The downed wingjet had dug into the side of a hill; the ground was black and bleeding where the jet had ripped through the forest. There was the narrow, churned-up path through the trees, but no larger clearing.

  “Do you think you can land there?” he asked.

  She tipped her wings and skimmed along the tops of the trees to get a better look. Without answering, she straightened and manipulated the pedals. Soon they were hovering, and she smoothly took them down. At the last minute, she made a slight adjustment to account for a deep groove through the cleared dirt.

  When they were on the ground, she released the glass hatch and climbed out onto the wing.

  “Weapon,” Major Vidar barked.

  She pulled her solagun from its holster. It still felt awkward in her hands. They climbed down to the broken earth and made their way to the wreckage.