The Iron Altar Series Box Set One: Books 1 to 3

by Casey Lea

  Darsey twisted savagely in an effort to wrench free from the stranger. She spun and looked up into a face distorted by fury. She paused and breathed in sharply, struggling to control her com’s surging battle mode. Her body quivered on the edge of lashing out, but her opponent was familiar.

  “Wing?” she croaked, and got a snarl in response. “Nightwing? What the hell?”

  “What… are… you… doing?” he panted, and she realized his anger was no act. His fury at seeing her here cut soul deep.

  Darsey took a calming breath, but it was useless and, despite her best efforts, her own anger flared. “I’m escaping,” she bit back. “All by myself, without any help, because, oh yes, there was no help.”

  Nightwing glared at her and in the sudden tense silence she heard his teeth grind together. Her temper rose further on a fresh swell of indignation. Words long unspoken crowded for release, but before she could tell the kres exactly what she thought of him he spun away.

  He turned without explanation and stalked further into the darkness. Darsey knew she should walk away too and continue her escape, but she was spitting with fury. She strode after him instead, trusting her com to stop her from running into anything before her eyes could adjust.

  Darsey slowed her pace when a dim figure appeared ahead and squared her shoulders, but before she could start shouting Wing moved. The grainy shadow of his arm punched forward to collect the greater darkness of the wall. His fist slammed into it and the concussion was deafening.

  She flinched at the noise and the metal beneath her feet thrummed in response to the blow. There was another impact, louder than the first, which almost covered a furious shout from the kres. She struggled to keep her balance and to understand that primal cry of rage and frustration. Ahead of her, Wing pummelled the shuddering wall and the hangar rang like a bell in response.

  The Bizarre Bazaar started to sway above their heads and Darsey ducked automatically when it swung past, but Wing spun to kick the now-buckling wall. He continued his assault in oblivious fury while the hanging shop started to oscillate wildly. Its supporting straps groaned and Darsey took the deepest breath she could, to yell with full com force, “Wing!”

  Darsey’s hands flew to cover her ears and Wing was thrown against the damaged wall. The echoes of his name rang around the station with ten times the force of his recent attack. “Drak,” he swore, and clutched his head too.

  Out in the brighter light of the hangar, the few shoppers who had stayed during the earlier disturbance stood frozen within their protective fields. Everyone was staring into the shifting shadows beneath the Bizarre Bazaar.

  “Gods drakkit,” Wing’s lips shaped, but Darsey could hardly hear him. His face creased in pain and she would have felt guilty, if he didn’t so thoroughly deserve it.

  He shook his head, then closed his eyes against it instead, squeezing them tightly shut. “We kres have most sensitive ears,” he eventually pointed out.

  “I know,” Darsey flashed back, but Wing ignored her attempt at provocation.

  “I’m sorry,” he said simply. “Truly sorry. I left you feeling your escape was needed and I should have known you’d manage such. It’s my failure that you’re here. I should have thought forward and guessed that you’d best Jileea.”

  “I didn’t,” Darsey answered shortly, struggling with her emotions and Wing’s unexpected apology. “Best Jileea, I mean. I made a trade with her instead. My freedom for a future favor and for you.”

  His eyes narrowed at her admission. “You offered me as trade?”

  “Not exactly, but you’re part of what she wants. So I suggest you get lost.”

  Darsey turned away without further explanation. She strode out of the drifting shadow cast by the still-swaying Bizarre Bazaar and away from the kres as fast as she could without running. She glanced up at the fabric shop when she passed beneath its open front and the worried face of its proprietor quickly disappeared behind a bolt of cloth. Along the line of hanging shops, other curious faces vanished just as fast, but she forgot them the moment Wing matched stride with her. She tried to ignore him, but he had the check to step in front of her and block her path.

  “How did you trade me?”

  Darsey managed to stop herself just shy of the loathsome alien. She glared up at him, but he looked completely unrepentant. Perhaps kres didn’t feel guilty, even when they were back-stabbing weasels. She took a deep breath and hoped her voice wouldn’t shake.

  “So now you want to talk. Now that it’s all about you. Well you’re way too late. I don’t want to talk to you ever again. I don’t want to help you in any way. Nothing could induce me to spend a single, excruciating second longer in your company. Go. Away.”

  Darsey tried to walk around Wing, but he stepped sideways too and blocked her again. “Move,” she ordered, and felt a rush of energy that matched her anger.

  Wing stepped back a pace, so he must have seen she was combat ready, but then he stopped and held his ground anyway. “All you say is true. I won’t ask more of your deal with Jileea, but please, most please, let me help. There’s more of danger here than you might think. I found you because I bought word of you from a child. A boy called Malik saw passage energy when you first arrived and sold news of you through the station com. He called you mermaridian, but I bought the visual because I feared it might be you, and it’s well that I did. It showed you passing through a guard rail and it might have been bought by any-all Rim scum.”

  He snorted in apparent disgust at such an idea, but Darsey wasn’t so easily fooled. She started him down and tried not to flinch when his hand landed gently on her shoulder. “Instead, I paid the chick for his trace so that no other will see it. Is that not proof that I want you all-times safe? I truly want to find passage for you and see you set for home. I swear it.”

  Darsey backed away, tossing his hand off and Wing had the grace to look down.

  “I’m shamed that I’ve earned such distrust.” He looked up quickly as if sensing her anger flare. “I know I deserve it and I’ll make no protest. My actions to you seemed cruel.”

  “They were cruel. You were cruel.” Darsey stopped, breathing hard, and Wing actually offered a human nod in response.

  “I know and I deeply regret it. I’ll tell you all, explain everything, after a passage is safe booked. Agreed?”

  “Do you really think you can explain abandoning me? Just walking out? And leaving me a slave?”

  Wing sighed and shrugged a shoulder. “Probably not. Can we find a safe ship first and then you can judge all?”

  “I don’t think so. I can find my own ride and every second you spend with me brings Jileea closer. She placed a pretty obvious tracer in my com, after using some equally obvious reverse psychology to try to make me look for you.” She offered Wing a challenging stare and flipped a hand to shoo him away. “So go. I know you don’t want Jileea following you.”

  “I don’t care,” he said firmly. “I won’t just leave, Darse. Not ‘til you’re safe-set for home. I owe you that and more.”

  Darsey stared along the row of shoddy shops and struggled to remember that the kres had already left her once. She needed to do this alone. “No. Depending on you is a bad habit. It never works out and it makes a mess of my self-reliance. So get lost, okay? Just go away. We both know you’re good at that.”

  Darsey stepped around Wing and this time he let her go. She moved on unhindered, heading for a small shop, tethered high above them with a rope ladder dangling from its front. However, when she reached the ladder, she realized there was still someone close behind her. She swore under her breath and turned to face Wing again. “What?”

  “Just a sugges-”

  “Yes?” Darsey asked in an ominously clipped manner.

  “Small travel agents are not best honest. They charge top credit and then book passage on any ship, even one on an opposite route. The worst will simply sell you to Harvesters. The smart move is to book direct with a ship’s cargo senior. You
can check the ship first. Its route, usual cargo, affiliations, past performance… they’re all public knowledge. I can show you the station access.”

  Wing’s reminder that Darsey could find herself in a slave pit again was instantly sobering. She was forced to face her own unavoidable ignorance and, although it galled her, to admit that she still needed him. She told herself she had no intention of relying on the kres again, not in any serious way, but using him? That was quite another matter. “All right,” she agreed brusquely. “Show me.”

  Wing instantly turned away and backtracked toward the metal gantries. A frond twitched back over his shoulder to check that Darsey was following, so she kept close behind, almost on his heels. He stepped over the chasm with casual ease and dove back into the crowd as if challenging her to keep up.

  Darsey’s jaw set and she increased com power before leaping after him. He set a rapid pace, ducking and diving through the throng, jumping stairs and stepping onto railings to climb straight to higher levels. She had to push hard to keep up, but she managed and found their increasingly rushed passage unexpectedly thrilling.

  Darsey took the risk of pushing past a mutt and finally drew level with Wing as they raced each other upwards, toward the outer shell of Gratuity. They reached the final superstructure together, but she swung round an upright post that marked the edge of the docking rim to land on its metal expanse first.

  Wing hit that shiny surface a second later and they shared a grin. They’d halted at the foot of a ship’s ramp and Wing turned to face it. Darsey stared past him, up an unusually long gangway to a giant, spiral seashell floating above.

  “Are we there?” she asked, and was disturbed to hear the disappointment in her voice. Her smile disappeared and she stepped away from Wing.

  His grin faded more slowly, but he stepped away too, increasing the distance between them.

  “My recommendation, ye. Com says this is best.” He turned and gestured toward the grimy metal tongue extended from Gratuity’s latticework of passages to connect with the loading bay of the strange shell. Darsey looked up at that multi-colored hull with its odd patterns in renewed doubt.

  “You’re sure this is the best?”

  “Certain-sure. There’s not much of choice at the moment. Only Harvesters are docked, or the three t’ssaa ships on farside. Do you fancy such?” He raised an eyebrow at Darsey, but before she could answer, an energised disk flashed from the darkness of the ship’s hold. It hummed and glinted once in the light as it slashed toward Wing’s legs.

  He leapt back and the weapon buried itself at his feet. “A sh-tar,” he stated calmly while it sank into the dock with a hiss of steam and the stench of melted metal. He exchanged a glance with Darsey.

  “Friendly,” she said, but he just shrugged in response and turned back to the unwelcoming hold.

  “Hey! Ship’s owner!”

  There was no answer. The oval opening at the top of that steep ramp was as dark and silent as ever. Darsey’s breath escaped as a short, impatient snort, but Wing was undeterred.

  “We bring trade,” he called confidently into the silence.

  She tipped her head to look up the ramp again and this time there was movement. She almost missed that faint stirring in the dark, when a sliver of black slipped out of the greater darkness behind it. A further fluid step brought the stranger into the light, but, surprisingly, it was no easier to see. Its outline shimmered when it moved from the darkness, shifting from black to a bewildering array of colors. The different shades blurred, then blended, to subtly mimic the environment behind it.

  Darsey guessed that the creature’s clothes must adapt to copy its surroundings. The camouflage was effective and she had to watch closely to track the alien’s rapid progress down the ramp. It came to a halt a metre ahead of her and was instantly still. It vanished completely and, if she had missed its initial movement, she would never have noticed it. There was little to betray its position, not even the glimmer of its eyes.

  However, the creature did have eyes and Darsey recognised them when they flicked toward Wing. They were surprisingly dark, with huge irises nearly as black as the alien’s pupils. They would have shown as holes in the camouflage, if not for improbably long eyelashes. Darsey had a profile view of the strange captain and caught the flutter of multi-hued and feathered lashes when it risked a more open examination of Nightwing.

  “What trade, male?” it demanded in a voice that, while curt, was surprisingly deep and mellow.

  “Passage,” Wing answered just as succinctly.

  The only response was a clipped sound of obvious annoyance and the alien flickered into sight when he took a step back up the ramp. However, Wing raised his hand in quick reassurance and gestured at Darsey. “Not for both, just the female.”

  The alien halted again and there was a moment of silence and stillness before those dark eyes opened fully and turned to Darsey.

  She made no effort to look inviting and scowled instead. She could feel Wing’s frustration at her hostility and glared harder. Annoying the kres was unbelievably satisfying. However, the alien smiled at her response, to show an unexpected gleam of teeth against lips as gray and grimy as the loading ramp.

  “A new species,” he observed in a baritone that showed no trace of offence. He looked straight past her com’s mermaridian glamour, with the insight of a natural expert in disguise. “I like her attitude.”

  “Amazing,” Wing muttered, and matched Darsey’s scowl with one of his own when she turned her glare on him. “Truly,” he continued, “the rest of her is equally pleasant.”

  Her eyes narrowed in disbelief at such criticism from the person who had so recently sold her.

  “Slaver,” she hissed, but was unable to say more before he threw back his own insult.

  “Dumb gat.”

  “Excuse,” the alien interrupted, but Wing ignored him.

  “I'm no slaver and you ignore me more-on-more than any-”

  “I ignore you. Arrogant pig.”

  “Arrogant? Justly proud perhaps-”

  “Yeah, we’re all proud of your selfless compassion.”

  “What’s ‘pig’ anyway?”

  “You are and a jackass too-”

  “Excuse.” There was a brief, charged silence and then two heads turned together to sight the alien.

  All Darsey could see clearly was a pair of heavily fringed eyes, which widened further while they studied her. “You wish passage, female?”

  She tensed, but then sagged when all tension left her. She felt strangely flat, and shrugged without looking back to Wing. “I suppose.”

  The alien chuckled in response and Darsey watched him warily, but still started when a hand appeared in mid-air before her. Its coloring changed from an exact copy of what was behind it to a startling blue that fluoresced to green around its now clear outline. The alien twitched three of his visible fingers, beckoning her closer and Darsey moved cautiously forward to step onto the ramp.

  She used the faintest of outlines that seemed to trace the alien’s head to judge that he was actually not much taller than herself. The newly visible hand moved again, this time stretching out toward her. It stopped, palm up, in clear invitation.

  Darsey hesitated, but only briefly, before offering her own hand. Those alien eyes continued to study her intently as surprisingly warm and smooth fingers closed around hers. Darsey looked down in astonishment while the alien drew her hand closer.

  Her eyes confirmed what her fingers had already told her. She was touching skin, oddly colored skin, but bare skin all the same. She had only a second to wonder about the rest of his body before she was distracted by distorted movement. The alien’s head ducked forward, over her hand, and she tensed when her arm seemed to disappear beneath his camouflaged body. There was a sensation of air passing over her knuckles and the clear sound of sniffing.

  “What the-?” Darsey protested, and he instantly dropped her hand before straightening and backing up the ramp.

>   There was another moment of stillness when he stopped, to disappear against the background again. Darsey took a shaky breath, and then retreated down the ramp to reassuringly level ground.

  “Definitely no kres,” the alien’s voice stated, and Darsey shook her head vehemently.

  “No,” she confirmed with deliberate emphasis.

  There was another flash of teeth from above. “Good. You have some days ‘til ovulation, but I will accept passage any-all. Four thousand credits.”

  Wing hissed in outrage at the price, but Darsey hardly heard him. She was too busy being outraged herself while simultaneously trying to work out if the alien was right. She’d lost her contraception along with her med-chip and she realized that the outrageous merchant was probably correct. She accepted his judgment with an internal shrug. She may have been fertile again, but that fact was presently irrelevant and likely to be irrelevant for some time.

  However, the alien’s sexual interest in her was a cause for concern. Even Wing seemed to agree and abruptly turned her away from the ramp. He took her by the elbow to steer her back into Gratuity.

  “What happened?” Darsey wondered, and he glanced at her with a raised eyebrow.

  “The deal for passage is done. I’d normally barter more with a ch't'kar, that price was high-as, but we’ve no time. I’m busy and your ride will lift as soon as the ch't'kar has it prepped.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” she protested, and dug in her heels against his steady pressure on her elbow.

  The kres cursed under his breath and retained a firm grip on her arm, but his other hand, which was against the small of her back, stopped pushing her forward. Despite the halt, she could feel his impatience. The set of his body and the tension in the fingers now around her wrist, their strength held rigidly in check, all screamed of impatience.

  “What?” he demanded, and, although the clipped word was quiet, it carried the emotional force of a shout.

  Darsey turned toward him, but slowly, and her free hand rose to cover a deliberate yawn. She expected further anger, but Wing sighed instead.

  “All right,” he conceded, and relaxed a little. He was still poised to move, but ready to give her at least a moment’s attention. “Darsey, I’m sorry. I know he seems strange. Truly, all ch't'kar are odd. To us herd sentients anyway.”