Girl of Blood: A Science Fiction Dystopian Novel (The Expulsion Project Book 3)

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Girl of Blood: A Science Fiction Dystopian Novel (The Expulsion Project Book 3) Page 22

by Norma Hinkens


  I scan the faces pressing in to watch us as we approach and spot my mother huddled with the other Cweltans from the stealth fighter. I elbow my way through the crowd and run to take her in my arms. “Father … is alive!” I cry out, choking on the emotion surging through me.

  She holds me at arms’ length and stares at me for a long moment, a bewildered expression on her face. She shakes her head. “No, child. Parthelon—”

  “He’s alive! Karad and some of the other elders saved him and hid him. He is weak, but well. He is waiting for you in the Great Hall.”

  My mother continues to stare at me as the import of my words slowly comes together in her brain. “The chieftain lives?” she whispers.

  I clutch her arm tightly. “I saw him with my own eyes. I spoke with him.”

  Without another word, she turns and flees in the direction of the settlement with the speed of only the Cweltan-born.

  “She loves him a great deal,” Velkan says, walking up behind me.

  I nod, blinking back tears. “I know of no greater love than the love they share and bestow on me in turn.”

  Velkan raises my hands to his lips and kisses them. He traces a finger under my chin, tilting my head back gently. “I could love you like that, Trattora.”

  A smile explodes across my face. “And I, you, Velkan of no fixed abode. Will you do me the honor of making your home here on Cwelt with me?”

  “I will,” he says, wrapping me in his strong arms. I inhale the sweet musky scent of his sweat as I rest my head against his blood-spattered chest. This is the man I choose to be by my side when I lead Cwelt into the future, a future I will fill with promise, education, discovery, wealth, and power. Dargonite has haunted us for far too long. It is time to avail ourselves of its potential and make it serve an honorable purpose going forward.

  “Fleet Commander Kuberev and Captain Monrovix will want to meet my father,” I say, reluctantly pulling away from Velkan and searching through the crowd for them. Ayma spots me and waves me over.

  “Congratulations on a successful ground campaign,” Captain Monrovix greets us, as we walk up to him.

  “Thank you for getting here so swiftly and securing our airspace,” I reply.

  The Fleet Commander turns to me. “As I promised, all charges against you have been dropped. Upon my return, I will draft a treaty outlining an alliance between Aristozonex and Cwelt that will guarantee our protection of your territory while you build your own fleet.”

  “A most generous offer. I accept on behalf of my father, but I would prefer you to tell him yourself. He is waiting for us in the Great Hall.”

  The Fleet Commander exchanges a look with Captain Monrovix and then nods. “After you.”

  Velkan slips his fingers through mine and we lead the way back to the settlement. When we reach the steps to the Great Hall, the Cweltans thronging the entryway part to let us through, cheering and throwing their shramskins over one shoulder as they take a knee before us—a reverential act that indicates I have proved myself worthy through my actions today to be their next chieftain.

  As I walk through the doorway, I stare in awe at the beautiful sight in front of me—a sight I thought had been lost to me forever—my father and mother standing tall as they face one another on the dais at the front of the Great Hall, hands clasped together. The light in their glowing faces is the light of love, a love they have poured out on me from the very first day they took me in their arms and sent the traders on their way without me. They have given me everything my birth parents hoped for, and so much more—life, liberty, and a Cweltan legacy that I am proud to own.

  I turn to see Buir and Ghil walking toward us, heads together, laughing as they share a private joke. My heart flips. There is nothing I wish more for Buir than a long, happy life with Ghil, a man who proved time and again that he would lay down his life for her.

  “I have a feeling you have something to tell us,” I say, giving Buir a crooked grin.

  She laughs. “Ghil and I are planning our bonding ceremony.”

  “Congratulations!” I say, a broad smile on my face. “Is your mother in agreement?”

  Buir laughs again. “She’ll agree to anything that ensures I remain on Cwelt instead of returning to Aristozonex. I am the only family she has, after all.”

  I turn to Ghil. “I’m sorry you have no family to witness your bonding.”

  Ghil gives a nod of acknowledgement. “Perhaps it is better that way. Crank died as he lived—a violent man.”

  “Velkan and I will stand in for your family when you take your vows,” I assure him.

  “And have you news of your own?” Buir prods, angling a delicate silver brow.

  I tuck my arm into Velkan’s. “We will be bonded also, but we will invite our birth parents here to witness our ceremony.” I give a sly wink. “I think the Fleet Commander might be persuaded to loan us the stealth fighter for one more trip to Mhakerta to pick them up.”

  29

  The next few days go by in a flurry of unwelcome but necessary activity. We set fire to the Mauler camp and burn it to the ground, along with all the Mauler corpses. As we gather our fallen to take them to a Cweltan funeral pyre on the far side of the settlement, we come upon a horrific sight—Parthelon’s decapitated body impaled on a stick. I’m certain now it was his scalp I saw swinging from the Mauler overlord’s belt during the battle. Evidently, Parthelon failed to appease him when he showed up without the perpetrators of the sand sniper attack in tow.

  I was determined to see Parthelon tried and executed for treason according to Cweltan justice, but maybe it’s for the best that he met his fate at the hands of those he chose to align himself with over his own people. Truth be told, I am weary of our own brutal form of execution and ready to lead Cwelt into a more compassionate and constructive future. I intend to bring the wonders I saw on Aristozonex back to my home planet and watch the delight on my people’s faces as they taste a Propulsion Expresso or an infused ice cone for the first time. And perhaps I can even introduce shram stew to Aristozonex—a new delicacy for a discriminating palate.

  As promised, I hold a state funeral for Meldus, the steadfast young guard who, without hesitation, laid down his life for me on Namuto. He epitomizes everything a faithful warrior should be, and there is not a dry eye on Cwelt when his parents light the ceremonial pyre commemorating his sacrifice.

  “Meldus is to be eulogized in Cweltan history as an enduring example of heroic fealty,” my father declares in an address to our people. “His name is to be engraved on a memorial stone at the entrance to the Great Hall, and this day shall be immortalized as a day of remembrance in his honor.”

  Meldus is not the only hero I pay tribute to. I arrange with Captain Monrovix to send credits to Roma to repay the debt I owe her fourfold. She took enormous risks for me, and helped me even when I had nothing to give her in return. She will always be a welcome guest on Cwelt, should she ever be persuaded to make the trip. Captain Monrovix assures me Jourd has already been well compensated by the Syndicate for the injuries he suffered at Furax’s hands. He will never have to work another day in his life if he doesn’t want to, although I can’t imagine him ever abandoning his stall.

  Later in the week, Ghil and Buir are bonded in a quiet but deeply moving ceremony in Yeltavia’s home. I sob from the moment Ghil takes Buir’s hennaed hands in his to repeat the sweet vows he wrote and asked me to approve. Buir’s love has transformed him on the inside to a far greater degree than the dermal sculpting that altered his appearance and nearly killed him.

  While Phin takes the stealth fighter back to Mhakerta to fetch our birth parents for my bonding ceremony with Velkan, Ayma and I busy ourselves with administrative duties, including attending several key meetings between the chieftain and the Fleet Commander. Many details remain to be worked out, but my father has given his approval for Cwelt to sell a reasonable monthly quota of dargonite to Aristozonex in return for the advanced technology we so desperately need to defend
ourselves against the possibility of another invasion like the one we endured at the hands of the Maulers.

  We are all heartened to learn of the Syndicate fleet’s successful raid on the body poachers at Razaran, and the liberation of the remaining prisoners. With the destruction of the Cryogenics plant, the illegal trade has been effectively paralyzed. No one asked if Sarth’s remains were recovered—no one cared—but I suspect she is still lying where we left her on the other side of the mountain.

  The Fleet Commander invited Rutane to Aristozonex to be recognized at a special ceremony in his honor next month for his bravery in pulling him from the wreckage of his ship. At first Rutane declined, but he is slowly warming up to the idea after spending some time exploring the interior of the Syndicate ships and learning how they operate, although I half suspect he is more interested in his brilliant instructor, Ayma, than in the ships themselves.

  As for Phin, the Fleet Commander greeted him with heartfelt tears, and I know in my heart he still esteems him as a son who will one day lead the Syndicate military in his place. No man deserves the honor more. Phin was fearless throughout our journey, always a soldier first, and I have no doubt that without him at our side we would never have defeated Preeminence, or the body poachers, and that many more Cweltans would have lost their lives to the Maulers.

  My father and the Fleet Commander speak warmly of the great alliance to be forged between Cwelt and Aristozonex. They firmly believe it will stretch long beyond their reigns and be upheld by their daughters, as the future heirs to the seats of power on their respective planets. Through the experiences we shared together, Ayma and I have come to accept our destinies as a privilege instead of a burden, and we are determined to make our fathers proud in all the future joint endeavors we’ve discussed.

  Behind closed doors, my father stripped the elders who sided with Parthelon of all their titles and privileges. Under Cweltan law, he retains the right to punish them unto death for their crimes, but he chooses to show mercy, believing they acted under duress. I too gave them the benefit of the doubt after I found out they cut the throat of Marph as he slept for what he tried to do to Karad. If it hadn’t been for Nalkryie’s skill, Karad wouldn’t be with us today.

  As for Velkan’s nosebleeds, it turns out he is allergic to shram’s wool, which I’m equal parts relieved and horrified to find out. Nalkryie whipped him up a potion that is helping, and I told him he will just have to suffer through our ceremony, which includes the all-important ritualistic draping of a bonding shramskin over our shoulders, without which we will not be truly bonded in the eyes of Cwelt.

  I can hardly describe in words the joyous reunion with my birth father, Oka, when the stealth fighter finally returns. Our time together on Mhakerta was so brief, and so filled with stress, that we barely had time to introduce ourselves to each other, let alone get to know one another. But now I take the time to notice the coloring we have in common and the mannerisms we share, not to mention the identical smiles Velkan jokingly says carve halfway up our faces. Oka is a quiet, but highly intelligent and regal man, and my Cweltan parents take to him like a brother.

  Everyone marvels at how closely Phin resembles his broad-shouldered and brawny father, Gustin Lodowskow—the only parent he ever had—but I’m more impressed by the admirable characteristics they share at their cores that make them men of loyalty, and rocks to those around them. It’s easy to see why they are each other’s heroes.

  Velkan proudly introduces his mother to everyone gathered on Cwelt for our bonding ceremony. Even Justice Kuberev made the trip from Aristozonex to bear witness to our happy union. She makes a point of taking me aside and begging my forgiveness for her rush to judgement. I assure her that her unflinching stance was understandable considering the evidence against me, and that I admire the depth and strength of her love for her husband that drove her to seek justice at all costs. She has more than redeemed herself in my eyes by her unequivocal commitment to care for Ayma’s mother, Dinah, and to provide her with the finest doctors on Aristozonex to pursue whatever degree of recovery is possible from the trauma she suffered to her brain.

  When our bonding ceremony begins at sunset, Velkan and I walk toward each other with a measured number of steps, each one signifying a year in the shedding of our separate lives. I lean on the arms of my fathers as they escort me to the gazebo where Velkan and I will seal our sacred bond before my people. Velkan’s mother kisses him on both cheeks and then takes his hand and presses it to mine in a perfect splay as is Cweltan custom. The heat of the blood in our palms takes my breath away. Velkan and I smile at each other and then turn to face Karad, the elder we have chosen to officiate at our bonding.

  “Beloved Cweltans,” Karad begins, “we are assembled in the sacred triangle this day to bear witness to the bonding of two hearts swearing undying love and companionship to one another.”

  The rest of his words melt away as I look into Velkan’s eyes, liquid with love. From the very first time his fingers briefly brushed mine as I passed him a bowl of Astrofruit in the Great Hall, I somehow knew this man would be a part of my life forever.

  Karad pauses and addresses Velkan. “What is your vow to seal your bonding to Trattora?”

  Velkan grips my hennaed fingers in his. “Hear my vow this day in front of all these witnesses. Trattora, we are each other’s inspiration, we are each other’s delight, we are each other’s comfort. I choose to journey with you through every joy and trial, until the stars cluster above me and seal my eyelids shut, and my time has come. This is my sacred vow to you.” He raises my fingertips to his lips and kisses them, his soft tears running over them in a baptism of his love.

  Karad turns to me. “What is your vow to seal your bonding to Velkan?”

  “Velkan,” I say, my voice catching as the emotion I feel wells up inside me. “Even the stars that light our path are no match to the fire of love I cherish in my heart for you. You are the flame that keeps me alive. I will hold your heart tenderly and love you fiercely beyond time and space. May we always be one in vision, purveyors of peace and harmonious in spirit. This is my sacred vow to you.”

  Karad drapes the bonding shramskin over our shoulders and turns us to face my people. “Let it be known this day that Trattora, daughter of the sitting chieftain of Cwelt, and Velkan, son of Fir Petrop, Premier of Mhakerta, are henceforth bonded.”

  A tumultuous roar goes up from the crowd. Everywhere Cweltans splay their hands to show their solidarity.

  As they part to let us walk between them to the banquet prepared in our honor in the Great Hall, I turn to my beautiful mother beaming at us. Although there will be no Cweltan blood in our lineage, she is satisfied that my heart has chosen love over everything.

  As Velkan and I make our way to the settlement, serenaded by Cwelt’s finest musicians, I can’t help but reflect on the strange journey of my life so far. Some might opt to dwell on the losses I suffered; my expulsion to an unknown world far from my birth father, the fact that I never had the chance to get to know my birth mother. But I have been loved more than most, and have gained many times over what I lost.

  Sometimes when the planets align, redemption comes in ways we never dreamed of.

  END OF BOOK THREE

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  BIO: NYT and USA Today bestselling author Norma Hinkens writes Pretty Gritty Fiction at a pace that will leave you slack-jawed. She’s also a travel junkie, legend lover, and idea wrangler, in no particular order. She grew up in Ireland, land of make-believe and the original little green man.

  Afterword

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you enjoyed reading Girl of Blood as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you for taking the time to c
heck out my books and I would appreciate it from the bottom of my heart if you would leave a review, long or short, on Amazon as it makes a BIG difference in new readers finding the series.

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  All my best,

  Norma

  Glossary

  BodPaks: Body-hugging pouches that come in a variety of shapes and sizes for carrying personal items around in.

  CipherSync: ID and communication device all-in-one that can be worn on the wrist or around the neck. It connects to the Stellarsphere and can also be used to handle financial transactions.

  Cryogenic Trade: Illegal transport of cryogenically frozen heads to be reattached to donor bodies typically snatched from impoverished planets by body poachers.

  DigiPad: Digital notebook.

  ElektroProd: Stun weapon used to immobilize prisoners

  Elevachute: Sleek elevator capable of rapid transportation between floors.

  LevAuto: Levitation autos used for transport on Aristozonex.

  LunaTrekker: Surface vehicle with mesh tires coated with metal strips for traction, and a T-shaped controller for steering.

 

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