by Casey Lea
“Not only. It happens to humans a lot. My father was a twin. He had a sister, carried and born at the same time. And that’s what we have. Twins.”
Darsey felt the beginning of belief from Wing and let him hold her again. “Twins?” he whispered. “It’s true? It must be if you’ve got a name for it.”
“Sure and triplets for three. Four at once are quads and five quintuplets. Then-”
Wing pulled away again. “Wait. You’re jesting with me. You must be. Four? Five? How’s that even possible?”
Darsey chuckled at her husband’s shock. “I probably shouldn’t mention octuplets yet.” She slid her arms around his waist and snuggled close.
“Eight?” Wing asked of her hair. “Do you mean eight at a time? Is that going to happen to us?”
It was Darsey’s turn to go into shock. “I certainly hope not.”
A soft frond touch and a hand on her back told her that Clear had joined them. Darsey pulled back from Wing’s embrace just enough to free an arm and pull her friend close. Free was still attached to his wife and completed the circle. They stood together in the comfort of a single hug.
Darsey closed her eyes again and shared her friends’ relief. They stood in silence for some time, until the faint ping of hot metal was joined by a mellow whistle. It was followed by another and then a trill of birdsong.
Darsey looked up as the sounds from outside were joined by a sweet breeze that cleared away the acrid tang of burning. High above a silhouette crossed the gash in the ceiling, something small and quick with fluttering wings and she felt Wing’s delight. “This planet feels perfect for kres. I’m just sorry you’re so far from home, love. We’ll get you to Earth as soon as we can.”
“No,” Darsey murmured staring at the creamy sky, “that’s alright. I mean we need to go back, but not for me. The truth is, I’m already home.”
55
Sunset
Sparrow pushed his way through waist deep grass and past stems of tiny flowers that rose to his chest. A cloud of cloying perfume rose around him, while midges darted through it. The sun was very low, washing the valley with gold and it was so still he could hear the sea. He stopped to catch his breath and smiled when a familiar voice snapped at him.
I told you walking was overrated.
Yet very lovely, he mused. This planet was beautifully made. It’s much like our old home.
And totally unnecessary if the Devourer hadn’t filled our world with blizzards.
Sparrow grimaced and took another step, startling something at his feet. A bird launched itself on crimson wings that beat against his face when it flew past. He staggered back and tripped to be swallowed by the grass. He let himself fall and lay in the deep meadow, laughing up at the sky.
Males, Grace complained. If you should drop dead too, then where would we be?
Free perhaps. You’re in a bad mood, dearest.
I’m dead. And the only person who can help is rolling around in a field.
Sparrow snorted at the truth of that, before pushing himself up to a sitting position.
Please smuggle me home, Sparrow, Grace asked more sweetly. Find the pirate wench and buy us a passage.
I am trying, he pointed out, reaching into his robes to fish out the amber gem. He studied the jewel, which was still slippery with Darsey’s blood and checked the absorption rate. A red stain was seeping through the crystal, carrying both organic and exotic matter with it.
“Perfect,” Sparrow breathed, before enclosing it carefully in a storage field and stowing it back in his robes. My dear Grace, you do make extraordinary efforts to secure DNA.
Most funny. If you’re done joking about my death, please arrange my new life.
For sure. The new leader of the BGP manoeuvred himself to his feet and started wading through the grass, following his com’s prompts. He was panting again when he finally saw a nearby glint that was silver, not gold. Mermaridian hair as he’d hoped, but spread across a tangled piece of wreckage that must be debris from the ship.
Sparrow hurried forward in sudden concern, but Jileea was seated comfortably at the base of a newly formed hillock. She sprawled on a warm strip of metal, with her head thrown back and eyes closed to the sun. She was still clutching Darsey’s tattered bouquet.
Sparrow slowed and stopped at her feet. “Are you well?”
Jileea opened one lazy eye. “Certain-sure,” she drawled. “Not even a scrape.”
“You’re lucky. As lucky as our wedded couple.”
“The bride, you mean,” Jileea answered seriously, pressing her thumbs together when she mentioned Darsey. “And no one else has such Luck, certainly not me. Do you interrupt for a reason?”
“Ye, I want to propose a bargain with you. The BGP has made claim to a hundreth of this system and all its passages.” Sparrow paused to let Jileea study the deed of ownership approved by Houses IceFlight and FeatherFlight. Her lips pursed appreciatively at the wealth the document represented.
“We also have considerable assets in the kres Empire. I’m now Leader of the Bureau... excuse me.” Sparrow's face twisted with unexpected grief and he had to pause to steady his voice. “As Leader, I wish to barter for use of your ship.”
Jileea raised a hand to stop the old kres before he could make his offer. “I'll not act against Darsey in any deal. If she wishes first use of my ship, she shall have it.”
Sparrow raised his brows, but his voice was gentle and a soothing frond touch washed over the mermaridian without her being aware of it. “Indeed, indeed. Of course, absolutely. I too will do as the lady wishes. However, my offer will fit her desires full well and in exchange I’ll trade a tenth of our share in this system.”
Gray eyes locked with Sparrow's and Jileea's lips twisted with renewed interest. “A tenth of your share? What do you need in return for such riches?”
“I ask you to return to Gratuity, with my Lady Grace's body and some wreckage from this ship. Claim you found them in a deserted system that links to kres owned passages. It will seem the Grace was trying to flee home when sabotaged. Offer the wrecked ship parts for sale.”
Jileea studied Sparrow warily. “Uh-huh. Why?”
“The Arck will hear what you offer. He will buy it and then pay more to confirm that the corpse is Lady Grace. He’ll believe his traitor succeeded and that all are dead. Then his wretched hunt will finally end.”
Jileea accepted his explanation, but lifted a little finger in query. “It’ll be drakking dangerous to deceive the Arck. What’s my cut of the wreckage sale?” she asked bluntly, and Sparrow hid a satisfied smile.
“All you can make.”
“A hundred percent? Plus ten percent of BGP holdings in this system?”
“Ye,” the kres agreed, before raising his palm to indicate conditions, “but you must also smuggle me home to kres space, the Flare system. Once there I can contact loyal kres, who will hold our secret safe and help me gather colonists. They will then need a ride back here.”
The pirate smiled with grudging admiration. “You barter well for an old kres, and offer huge temptation, but my condition remains. I’ll do naught to cross Darsey.”
Grace’s amused observation slipped from the jewel and into Sparrow’s mind. The human must be the pirate’s new fortune nexus.
“A talisman?” he asked automatically, and Jileea jumped upright to tower over Sparrow.
“Tssss.” She brushed one index finger across another toward the careless kres. “Don’t announce such. I’ll do as you ask, if Darsey says ye.” Jileea turned without further comment and stalked away, striding back toward the wreck.
Sparrow watched her go and then slumped to perch on a ragged mound of earth. We’re headed home, Glam. Whatever price is needed I'll see it paid. I swear to get you safe to the resurrection chamber before your jewel cracks.
He studied his lined hands, waiting for her answer, but there was no reply and the shock of that hit him hard. It was normal for the energy of her gem to freeze in place
, so that her memories were held safe in a crystalline matrix, but never so soon.
This jewel is nearly depleted. Grace’s mental touch was faint and much slower than usual. Each word seemed to take an age to appear in his mind. Its energy matrix is virtually gone and it will hold no more lives.
I’m sad to hear that, love. Also scared.
But not surprised?
My jewel failed after my last transfer. It shattered. This is my final body and when old Sparrow dies, I’ll truly be gone. He hummed quietly while he studied the sky. The voice in his head was gone again and he wondered, with another pang, whether this time Grace had finally been silenced.
How could you not say?
Sparrow started and then looked around to check if anyone else wandering from the ship had noticed.
Relax, chick. They’ll just think you infirm and aged is all. Why did you not tell me all your lives were spent?
However, Sparrow made no effort to answer his leader in words. He sent a brief flash of his love for her, his determination not to pressure or scare her, before waving her question impatiently aside, to ask one of his own. What if the Culling comes too late and we’re gone? Every person in this galaxy will die too.
I know, the old lady's mind snapped back with a last touch of life. Take me home and pray we live long enough. If the Devourer plays coy, we'll have to draw him in while we still survive. You’re right, we can't afford to fail again. This will be our last chance. Everyone’s last chance.
Sparrow sighed but made no effort to rise. He sat back to enjoy the sunset instead and then the sound of laughter, followed by music from the ruined Grace. After all, today was a wedding day and the war would wait. It always did.
Frostbite – Book Two
1
The Beginning of the End
Alliance Year One
Amber Grace had seen thousands of births in her many lives, but never one that scared her so much. She was the baby being born, which was always frightening, but it was more than that. After four hundred and twenty-two thousand years of different lives, she was as used to being born as any person could be. No, this was terrifying because the pain and pressure were beyond anything she had ever felt before. Her body quivered and tried to arch, but despite hours of labor she was still held tight.
There was no air to scream with, so Amber’s mind wept instead, lost in space and time. She’d been on fire so long she should have burned to ash, but still the room spun round her and she was trapped, turning on a spit. Was she truly fighting to be born, or was she somehow stuck within her last body, the familiar withered flesh of Lady Grace, Leader of the Beuro for Genome Protection? It was hard to think past the pain and she couldn’t be sure. Was she actually still an old lady struggling to die? That hardly seemed fair. Explosions were supposed to be quick and this... this was anything but fast.
Amber's silent scream rebounded from the trap holding her to echo uselessly through her head, but at least that told her something. She must still be in her crystal and this was rebirth certain-sure, but it had never hurt so much before and never, ever taken so long. She flinched from her own cries, while her tiny fronds shredded against her neck. Curse all incompetent midwives. If only she could birth herself… no, wait. What was she thinking? This was no time to finally turn senile. There was no midwife for this birth and no mother either. There was only Amber, trapped within a swollen crystal. She had to push herself free, but for the first time it seemed impossible.
Which made her the incompetent one. Too weak. Again. Too late. Again, and as always others would pay for her failure. Sound ripped through her head, the shriek of something tearing. Fresh agony lashed at her, but finally the crippling pressure eased. She could breathe.
Sadly that was worse. Air ripped in and out of Amber’s unused lungs, while her soft limbs windmilled around her, to slam into a jagged prison. This time she could truly scream and although she made hardly any sound it was still a relief of sorts. She whimpered again, but kept hammering at the splintered walls holding her. She needed to be free. She had to push right now, squeeze through the cracks and force her way back into the world, but how could she when she was growing so tired?
At least the solution to her last question was obvious. She needed to rest. Everything would eventually work if she simply closed her eyes and stopped fighting. Just... for a minute... just... stopped.
The pain finally eased and then slipped away. Amber could still hear a beat that sounded like a distant drum, a double tap that pulsed through her small body... but that slowed and then faded too. It had been so loud and annoying, throbbing through her infant ears, but she finally slipped into silence. Her mind began to follow, sinking into that inviting quiet, but something deeper resisted.
No. Amber dragged in a ragged breath and realized it was her first for minutes. She seemed to be sucking in razors rather than air, but the pain was good. Necessary. Oh, she'd just skated far too close to the edge. Hearing returned, and with it the frantic pulse of a heart that had just been shocked back to life. How could she ever have thought that sound was ominous? It was the nicest noise in the world. She smiled awkwardly, her lips jerking up at the corners, while she lay curled around her heartbeat. That steady thud was unexpectedly covered by a deep voice that shook with age or fear. Or both?
“Be strong, love. Fight, my Gracie, fight. You can do this. You always manage. I've missed you these months and I want you back, so push, dearest. Push.”
How strange. The voice sounded even better than Amber's revived heartbeat. It sounded important. Familiar.
“You must push free. Now. The womb is closing as your gem contracts. Push.”
Amber smiled again. She knew the speaker. Knew him well... her baby brother. Yes, but what was his name in this life? There were so many to sort through and for a second her head spun, while her pasts spiralled through her mind. The details brought instant vertigo, but quickly started to fade. Minor memories and ordinary days were lost, as her brain defensively pruned them. Then she had him. His name and their shared history. Sparrow.
Amber felt her body relax for the first time. Everything would be alright if Sparrow was here. So why did he sound scared? She drew a deeper breath to ask him and pain sliced into her chest. Her knees jerked up and she shrank further into a ball, curled around that agony.
Amber’s sudden movement caused a roar that made her shake and clutch her knees tighter. It sounded like an ice sheet was shearing into pieces on every side. The crack and crash of something disintegrating around her was abruptly lost in an explosion and a wave of pressure that stole her breath. She curled tight, trembling in the middle of destruction. This wasn't birth. This felt more like another death.
Amber held herself so hard her bony knees were jammed into her cheeks and a long, silent moment passed before she realized peace had returned. She gulped, but kept her eyes tightly shut. She wasn't sure she could cope with what she might see when she opened them. If she was still trapped in the amber crystal that had housed her during gestation she would scream again. Seriously scream and that would likely hurt.
A groan changed Amber's decision. She was drawn from herself by the pain in that unexpected sound. Someone else was in trouble and she had to help. If only she could move. She breathed in sharply over her teeth and willed her eyes to open. Just that. How hard could such a simple thing be?
Whoever was hurt moaned again and then coughed weakly. Drakkit, she cursed. This was becoming a frustrating day. She wanted to reassure her injured companion- Amber stiffened and panic heated her frozen body. It uncurled, just slightly, at the realization that it was Sparrow who was with her. Sparrow who must be hurt. She could hear her heartbeat again, thudding with fear. She needed her best friend and brother. Needed him desperately. She couldn't even go on, much less save entire worlds, without his support.
“Fine,” a thin voice said and Amber stopped trying to twist her limbs straight. “I'm fine. Truly. Be still, dearest. Your crystal exploded and we bo
th have some damage, but regen is healing us already. I've some cuts is all. Be calm.”
Her crystal was gone? Shattered? Amber lay there, while doubt sank its hooks in her. This could mean disaster.
"Don't despair," Sparrow quavered. "We have this one, final chance and you're still so young."
But you're not, she thought very quietly, so that her brother wouldn't hear, and something sharper than doubt clawed at her.
“Breathe,” that familiar voice murmured beside her and she did, sinking deep into unexpected comfort. A birthing bed must have caught her. It was still impossible to move, but she could feel and hear. Feel the soft resilience of an energy field beneath her and hear the dawn chorus from a Kresynt forest. The birdsong flowed over her, as soft as any silken sheet, ranging from sweet cheeps and tweets to melodious trills. She was home.
Amber's head stopped spinning as her thousands of lives finally slipped away, leaving only the first and the most recent complete, with a single strand of story stretched between. She finally pried her eyes open to the most welcome sight in the universe - the still blurry features of a very old friend. An ancient kres was hunched over her, his face a mask of wrinkles as conflicted as the meandering tracks on a sandy beach. They all lifted together in a sudden delighted smile, but overlaid on the ancient text of his face were sharper red lines. Thin cuts now ran all the way from his chin to his right temple.
Amber winced, but the new lines were already disappearing. Skin that had sagged further around lacerations drew together while she watched. The old wrinkles absorbed those straight chasms until Sparrow's skin was gold again. She searched his healing face for pain, but he was still beaming.
Amber had to swallow, gulping down regret before she could smile back. Her companion had changed while she gestated. His long hair, braided down his back, was now completely white. His gray fronds were sparsely bushed, with only a few bristles left. They looked like the spikes in a gap-toothed mouth. His gray eyes had grown dim too and were almost white.