Sunset Over Abendau (The Inheritance Trilogy #2)

by Jo Zebedee

  The Empress turned away and Kerra felt a rush of relief, making her ears thunder, so she could hardly hear anything else: they were going to let her go to her room, and at some stage maybe she’d see her mum. Her elbow was taken by a soldier and she let them lead her away. They passed the main staircase and walked to the back of the palace. Her head came up and she tried to drag her feet – didn’t they know this wasn’t the right way? They kept pulling her along.

  “No!” she shouted and looked back at the Empress, who didn’t turn. The boy beside her did, glancing back over his shoulder.

  “Stop them!” she yelled.

  He looked for another moment and then turned away, but not before she noticed again how like her dad he was, and then it clicked, who he had to be. The guards forced her to walk, and she let them, mind whirling. She had a brother? Who was on the Empress’ side?

  She stumbled along. The understanding of what it meant sank in. The strength in her legs left her. She would have fallen but for the guards. They didn’t break their step, ignoring her pleas to let her go upstairs to her room.

  They pulled her into a part of the palace she’d never been in before, through a heavy door which slammed behind them. A corridor stretched, with doors on either side, and they pulled her to one of the doors.

  “Please, don’t,” she tried again, but they pushed her through. The door closed after her, and she looked around, shivering. It was a small room, with a bed and – and that was it…. A cell. She stood for a minute, dancing a little; she really needed the toilet. She started to feel around, looking for a door to a bathroom, but there was none – the walls were smooth and unbroken. She got back to where she’d started and turned around, having to cross her legs and count to five. There was no toilet. She brought her hand to her lips, bit her nails, and wondered what to do. Something metallic under the bed caught her eye and she bent down, pulling it. She set it in front of her, wondering why they’d left a bucket–

  She looked around once more. In the corner there was a remote camera, focused on her. They’d see her pee. She shook her head, her hair whipping around her face as she did. She was damned if she’d stay in a cell and pee in a bucket. She focused on the door, on the locking mechanism, imagining how it must look, the turn it would take to open the door, and then she pushed out with her power. Nothing happened. She tried again; still nothing. Realisation dawned, of what the injection must have been, and how she was trapped, and panic reared up in her.

  Another rush of need hit her and she realised she wouldn’t be able to hold on, that she needed the toilet right now. She went over to the bucket and closed her eyes; if she didn’t look, maybe the camera wouldn’t, either. She went as quickly as she could, but when she pulled up her trousers she realised she’d wet all down the back of them. She stood for a moment, not sure what to do, and then pulled them up anyway, the damp patch against her back.

  She put the bucket into the corner, behind her, and moved to the bed to wait. The camera followed her movements and she glared at it. She thought she’d do nothing other than sit there, but she was drained and shivering. She curled into a ball, pulled the thin blanket over her and closed her eyes. Sleep took her from the cell, up through the palace to her room with its toys and its sunny yellow walls, and somehow, at the edge of sleep, she knew she didn’t want to wake up until it – whatever it was – ended.

  ***

  “Where would he go if he was in Abendau city?” Another question, all about the same thing.

  Sonly looked across the table to where the master was sitting and blinked, trying to moisten her tired eyes. She huddled into her thin top and fought to keep her voice steady and proud.

  “I really don’t know. Lichio’s a spy-master, for heaven’s sake. No one could know what he might do.”

  The master looked at her, and shook her head in disappointment. Sonly didn’t respond – the fact they hadn’t harmed her so far was giving her some hope that they wouldn’t, not while they needed her cooperation.

  “And your husband: do you really expect us to believe he walked away from it all?”

  “He was very shaken up by the attack; he was on heavy painkillers. If you know anything about my husband, you must know it was possible.”

  “I don’t believe you. He wasn’t in the compound; where is he?”

  Sonly’s heart hammered. It was the second time they’d made reference to taking the compound, and she wasn’t sure if they were bluffing. Both times, she’d had to fight not to ask if they’d got Kerra. Each time she told herself if they had, she’d know – they’d make sure she did.

  “I don’t know. Can we stop? I’ve told you everything I know.”

  “When I say so, Sonly.” The master passed a piece of paper across the desk to her. Sonly didn’t look at it. She knew what it contained: she’d read it earlier.

  “I will stand down when you guarantee me Kerra is safe.”

  “Sign it now.”

  Sonly clenched her fists. “Add the codicil that she is safe, and I will.”

  The master smiled, and Sonly shrank back from the smile. The memory of the night before came back to her, and her bravado faded.

  “Just tell me she’ll be safe,” she whispered. “That’s all I want.”

  “I will give you tonight to think about it, Sonly,” said her master. “There’s something in your cell waiting for you, perhaps to encourage you.”

  “No,” said Sonly, her blood running cold at the thought of any more of their encouragement. “I don’t need to be convinced – I will sign. I just want assurance.”

  “Take her away.”

  Arms grabbed her – not Phelps, she hadn’t seen him since yesterday, but just as unyielding. This time she pushed her legs under her, determined not to give in to the fear. She was damned if she’d give them the satisfaction of letting them see how well the night before had worked. The woman across the table smiled at her, and Sonly’s blood ran even colder. Please, let them be bluffing.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sonly,” said the master. She paused, her eyes knowing, and Sonly shivered. “You’ve done well today, but I want you to think – carefully – about your brother, about Kare, and about your position. Should we fail to finish this ... things will move on. In the morning, you’ll get the chance to make a choice as to where things go. I’m sure you’ll make the right one.”

  Sonly pushed against the arms holding her, but the soldier took her from the interrogation room, back to her cell. The door opened and she pulled back, fighting against being returned. They pushed her in and the door slid closed behind her. She leaned against it, exhausted.

  A movement made her jump. She looked over at the bed and there, sleepy and confused, a bruise darkening her forehead, was Kerra. Sonly sagged against the door, glad it was there to hold her up.

  “M-mummy.” Kerra’s voice cut through Sonly’s fear and she pushed away from the door. “I w-wet my trousers.”

  Sonly ran to the bed and pulled her daughter to her, savouring the feel of her thin body, the way it fit against her own. She tightened her grip, laying her cheek against Kerra’s warm skin.

  “It’s all right,” she said, almost crooning it, as if Kerra was a baby again. “I’m here and I’m taking care of everything. I’ll get you out, honey.”

  A choice, she thought dismissively. The master had no idea what it was to be a mother, evidently; when it came to Kerra, there was no choice. She’d do what it took to keep her safe, and that meant getting a formal guarantee in place. Until then, there was no choice. About anything. She kissed the top of Kerra’s head.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Lichio scanned the streets as they passed through one of Bendau’s poorer districts. Not that there were many affluent areas; the Empress’ hatred of her father’s city had led to decades of neglect, not fully reversed despite Sonly’s efforts. His focus switched to the sky, checking for ships, and back to ground level. On balance, he’d preferred the fighting
. The road was strewn with rubble, and many of the buildings had fresh scorch marks, but for now the streets were eerie and deserted, their inhabitants either in hiding or fled.

  A muffled explosion echoed through the still morning air and he tried to pinpoint where it was from – the centre, he thought, near Palace Square. He glanced at Simone, hoping the relief that someone was still battling didn’t show in his eyes; he’d been sure, once the compound had fallen, Bendau would have been taken. Unlike with Abendau during Kare’s rebellion, the Empress would have no compunctions about destroying the city from space – she hated the place. He’d have to congratulate Perrault.

  “Any comms yet?” he asked. “If they haven’t taken the city, there might be coverage.”

  Simone glanced at her unit. “Nothing.”

  “Scan again, please.” She set the unit to range for a signal – with the military interface down, they’d had to fall back on city’s outdated intra-system – and he wanted to take it from her and make it bloody work. He was going into a war zone blind; he might as well paint a target on his back and ask them to shoot.

  “Sir.” Simone glanced at him. “There’s weak coverage.”

  “Get me Colonel Per–”

  The roar of an approaching ship stopped him. A Roamer freighter – he was pretty sure it was the one the ambassador had flown – was coming in much too low and fast. Behind, four fighters were in pursuit, shooting at intervals. Most of the bolts were being repelled by some sort of shield, but Lichio noticed scorch marks on one of the freighter’s flanks.

  “Do we know why he’s here?” he yelled.

  Simone shook her head. Another volley of shots lanced across the sky and the freighter banked hard to avoid them. Far in the distance, coming down from the high atmosphere, Lichio could make out darts of silver. Cruisers, at a guess, holding near space.

  The Roamer ship flew past the port, before circling back on a landing trajectory, but was forced to pull up, shots chasing it. One impacted, making the ship lurch, and Lichio winced, ready for it to fall. A long thrust brought the ship around to face the fighters and weave through the bolts, but he could tell it was yawing a little on the right flank. If it came into contact with a cruiser, the freighter would be finished.

  “Give me the comms unit.”

  Simone handed it to him and he connected with the port in Bendau. “This is General le Payne. The Roamer ship: give it some backup, get it into port.”

  “Sir, we have had no landing request from the ship.” The voice was harried at best, panicked at second-best. “Sir, the port’s barely holding. One major hit and we’re gone.”

  The cruisers could finish that job, as well as the Roamer. Two for one. It was going to be a long day.

  “When did you think he’d call in? Before or after he crashes and takes out what’s left of Bendau? Get those fighters out of my air space, and let the Roamer land. Now.” He tightened his hand on the comms unit. “And tell Lyle he may have attack cruisers coming in. Get whatever we have up there to repel them.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  He handed the comms unit back to Simone.

  “You know the pilot?” she asked.

  “I think I’ve met him.”

  “Is he an ally?”

  A squad of fighters bearing the emblem of the New Empire came up from the port, firing on the freighter’s attackers. A second squad followed, breaking for space. God help the pilots – the first run must be close to a suicide mission.

  The Roamer joined the attack, darting and firing, more nimble than its size hinted at. It took out one of its pursuit fighters, bringing it down over the desert in a shower of flame and sparks. Lichio waited for the impact to die away, and said, “Well, he certainly doesn’t appear to be theirs.”

  ***

  Farran landed at the port, still grinning. It was good to stretch the old flying brain. He glanced at Nina, saw how pale she was, and his smile fell away. The flight across Belaudii must have been terrifying for her, although her kid had been up for it. It had been the only thing that had stopped his tears, although since the landing they’d started again, joining the baby’s incessant screams. What a mess: Sam Prentice was dead, Karlyn had been taken, and the mesh was drained. Worse than that, the mesh’s new centre couldn’t work with it. He got to his feet; he’d deal with that later. For now, he had a war zone to contend with.

  “How’s the arm?” he asked Nina.

  “Not too bad.” She lifted the wet cloth and he looked at the angry burn. She had guts, if nothing else – with everything that had happened in the last day, she’d have every right to fall apart. Anyone would have.

  “Get it seen to, all right?” he said. She nodded, her face not just pale but a little green too, and he smiled in sympathy. “Fresh air will help.”

  He led her down the access corridor to the hatch, and sped up at the sight of Cai already waiting there. Deftly, he moved Cai away from the force-field’s control panel. The child had fingers intent on pressing buttons, and a curiosity to match.

  The hatch lowered, revealing a docking bay, much older and more beaten-up than the one in the compound. Fresh air, already hot, came in through the open bay doors. No force-fields at this port, or fancy commercial shopping areas. Somehow, Farran liked it better.

  A man limped across the bay, stepping past a refuelling truck, and it took a few moments to match Lichio le Payne, in torn cargo trousers and a filthy shirt, to the previously smart general. Probably best not to comment, Farran decided.

  He stepped down from the ship. “General. I have bad news.”

  ***

  Lichio put his arms around Nina. “I’m so sorry.”

  She shook her head against him but it lacked any real strength. “Sam couldn’t have done anything else.”

  Lichio glanced down at Cai, taking in his bruised eye, how pale he was. Logically, he understood. Of course he did – anyone faced with their family being hurt would understand. But Sam had known what he was sending Kare to, had seen more than any of them…

  He tightened his embrace; it was done, and there would be enough fallout without him adding to it.

  “We’ll get things sorted out,” he said. “And the kids off Belaudii to safety, if I can.”

  Which might be easier said than done, as long as the Empress’ ships blockaded near space. But they couldn’t stay in the port, either – at some point the cruisers would break through, and then Bendau would be razed.

  She nodded, and her eyes met his. She knew, of course, what she was facing. He pointed across the port.

  “You see where Perrault is?” He never looked at Jean Perrault without remembering him from the quarry breakout – the youngest of the squad, only a private at the time, and as brave as any of his seniors. “Good. Make your way over there. Tell him I said you were to find a place in barracks. Get the kids sorted out, okay?”

  She left and he took a deep breath – where to start? There was nothing he could do about Kerra apart from sending scout ships, and he had none to spare. Besides, if she was in the desert the tribes would have already found her. And if she was dead in a ditch, he’d change nothing. His throat tightened, and he pushed that image away. Later: he’d deal with that later. And Sam.

  Kare? He was, presumably, on his way to Abendau and all that entailed. Not dead, but off planet, damn him. He frowned, thinking of Phelps and his carefully laid plans: he hadn’t expected Lichio to be in Bendau, ordering a defence. He rubbed his arm, absently, trying to find any advantage in that but, apart from his knowledge of the wider picture, there was little he could do that Perrault wasn’t already. He limped across the port. Without the compound, he had no easy way of taking back Abendau. Hell, without the compound, he’d lose Bendau in a day.

  Farran kept pace, avoiding his eyes; Lichio’s disdain for the decision to take Kare on a jaunt had obviously made an impact. His mouth twitched: King of the Roamers. Trust Kare to get landed with something so bloody usele
ss. Still, at least when his empire fell, Kare might still have a job. If he was still alive. If any of them were.

  “Your ship wasn’t damaged in the fight?” he asked. “Not at all?”

  Farran shrugged. “Nothing the internal systems can’t put right after a diagnostic.” He jerked his head back. “The ship’s working on it now.” He grinned. “I meant what I said about our ships. They’re at your disposal, and will be a substantive fleet.”

  Four enemy fighters, and Farran said he’d managed to lose at least three others, and had brought down one. The Roamer ships could make a difference. But, enough to attack? It was either that or wait for Bendau to be taken….

  “Come on,” Lichio said. “I have a command meeting before the next sortie comes in. You can sit in on it and tell me what your people can offer.” He slowed a little and lowered his voice. “You’ll be under my command, Farran – I’ll expect full cooperation.”

  They reached the control room, and Lichio gestured for the Roamer to go through. He nodded over at Perrault and Lyle – that the Air-Commander had made it to Bendau and taken charge of the defence had been key – and then at the Roamer. “Farran has command of a fleet of Roamer ships.” He limped to the desk and sank into a seat, barely concealing his groan of relief. He pointed at Farran. “Tell me what you have to offer, then liaise with the port personnel. They’ll provide what you need for your pilots.” He turned to Lyle. “You’re running the air, Tom, so work the Roamers in where they’re of most use; Jean, the ground forces are yours. Let’s get ourselves dug out of the mess we’re in.”

  Lyle leaned forwards and his eyes showed that he knew how desperate their position was. Lichio glanced at Perrault and saw the same knowledge in his. The Roamer cleared his throat and looked between the three of them. He must know too; if Kare had trusted him enough to bring him in, he’d have given him some sort of briefing. Play along, urged Lichio. Don’t admit we’re fucked, or I’ll have to.