Relinquish: Book II of the Rising Trilogy

by Miles, Amy

  I can hear Bastien swallow beside me but don’t have the energy to turn and look at him. I know what I would see if I did. The hollow man, broken and mortally wounded, but this time it wouldn’t be me that lands the fatal blow.

  “Sticks and stones, my dear.” The wide sleeves of Drakon’s robe waft side to side as he raises his hands. He looks almost feminine in his royal-blue attire. His face is still gaunt and bird-like, his nose severe, and his brow large and prominent with his receding hairline.

  “Niyah has her own reasons for betraying you. She has done a great service to our king and will be greatly rewarded for her actions today.” Drakon sweeps his arm back behind him, dismissing her. “You may go.”

  Niyah hesitates, her gaze shifting rapidly between Bastien and Drakon. “I played my part. Now give me what is mine.”

  Drakon’s booming laughter echoes off the metal walls. “Stunning but naive. Surely you knew I would never keep that promise. Bastien is far too big a prize just to hand him over to the likes of you.”

  Her face blots with crimson. “You tricked me! You promised Bastien would be free.”

  “And he will be… eventually.” Drakon’s bloodshot eyes look crazed as he turns to appraise Bastien. “Did you think I would give up the chance to torture the man whose life is a constant reminder of my shame? No, my dear, I will have my revenge.”

  “I won’t let you do this.” She whips a laser pistol out from the back of her pants, lowering it to aim directly at Drakon’s heart. “I’m taking him with me.”

  His smile wanes. “I grow tired of this. If you wish to live, leave now. I don’t give second chances.”

  Black-clad soldiers slide out of the shadows, surrounding us. A dozen lasers glow a swirling crimson as they train on her. I watch as the fight dies from Niyah’s eyes, enraged to see that she has resigned herself to Bastien’s death. A veil of red falls over my vision. How can she turn her back on him so easily? Without a fight? What kind of love is that?

  Niyah nods and glances back at Bastien one last time before walking away. “Coward!” I yell.

  Bastien’s arms tremble with rage. I can only imagine how deeply her betrayal cuts him. Not just of us, but of her men. It is unthinkable.

  Drakon waits until the door closes behind her before ordering his men to lower their weapons. His smile is dripping with venom-laced honey as he approaches. “I had thought you would put up a bigger defense. How disappointing. And me with so many men aching for a good fight. A pity.”

  “Well.” He shrugs. “I suppose we might as well get on with this. You don’t want to keep the king waiting.”

  I can feel my anger slip away as cold dread washes over me. “And Bastien?”

  “He is no longer any of your concern, my dear. I have plans for him.” The crazed look returns to his eyes. He claps his hands in front of his chest, gleefully awaiting what is to come.

  “He comes with me,” I growl, fighting to keep my head upright.

  “You are in no position to be making demands, I think. Unlike last time, I have the upper hand. Too bad. I would’ve liked to see you in action one last time.”

  One last time… His words spiral through my mind as darkness closes in on the edge of my vision. I can tell Bastien is struggling to keep me upright as I become dead weight in his arms.

  Drakon motions for the soldiers to approach. “Escort her to my chambers. The boy goes in his cell.”

  Bastien reacts before I have a chance to process that I’m no longer being held upright. I stare in horror as a tawny-haired alien in front of me pulls the trigger of his gun, aiming his green stun laser directly at Bastien’s chest.

  “No!” I shout as I crumple to the floor.

  Bastien cries out at the brunt of my mental push. He slams into the wall, his head connecting with a crack. He slumps to the ground, unconscious.

  “Well.” Drakon chuckles. “I suppose that couldn’t have gone any better.”

  In a swirl of blue, he marches over to Bastien. I watch as he closes his eyes. Bastien’s back arches; his mouth hangs open in a silent scream. A tear seeps from his unseeing eyes.

  “Get away from him,” I growl as I shove with my mind. It is a weak push but enough to knock Drakon off his feet. I collapse back to the floor, my arms too weak to hold me upright. I pant, watching as my breath appears and disappears against the slick floor.

  Drakon brushes himself off as he rises, patting his hair back into place. He tosses a sickening grin at me before he slams his boot down onto Bastien’s leg. With a nauseating snap, his lower leg rolls to the side.

  Bile rises in my throat at the sight of his shattered leg. Drakon rears his leg back and slams it into Bastien’s ribs repeatedly, grunting with exertion. Bastien’s head lolls toward me and I can see his pain, but he can’t seem to scream.

  “Stop,” I plead, pressing my face against the cold floor. I am helpless to aid him.

  Drakon straightens his robe and steps back. Bastien curls inward, his leg twisted. “As much as I would love for you to watch me torture your lover, we are on a tight schedule.” Drakon snaps his fingers and a soldier rushes forward. “Get that out of my sight. Make sure he is locked up tight. I don’t want him tearing apart the ship in search of her.”

  Two guards rush forward, stooping low to loop their arms through Bastien’s. “And, Amden, make sure you double the guards. This one has a few tricks up his sleeves. We’d hate for him to be harmed while trying to rescue the girl.” His snicker lands like a punch to my gut. “That’s my job.”

  Tears well in my eyes, streaming down my nose and pattering onto the floor as I watch two guards drag Bastien away. His head hangs low to his chest and I pray he has passed out from the pain.

  Shiny black boots pause beside my chin. Drakon crouches beside me. The hem of his robe falls about my face. “No cutting remarks today? I do so enjoy your fiery spirit.”

  I spit on his boot, enjoying the way the glob slowly slides down the side. Drakon growls, wiping the offensive fluid from his polished shoes. “You will be taken to my quarters. Don’t bother trying to fight. I assure you, you won’t win.”

  The soldier named Amden lowers his weapon and kneels beside me. He wraps his arm about my waist and hauls me to my feet. My knees buckle and he grunts as I nearly spill both of us to the ground. He hoists me into his arms, carrying me like a small child.

  “What are you going to do with me?” I ask, my head resting upon the soldier’s chest. His arms are long and lean, clothed in fine muscle, easily able to hold my weight.

  “I’m going to collect my reward when I present you to my king.”

  The smug look on his face makes me wish I could summon enough energy to yank down the roof and kill us all. “I’m sure he won’t be quite so pleased when he hears how you have treated me.”

  A knowing smile spreads along his sallow face. “You have nothing to fear. I know my place. No one shall lay a finger on you. You are safe… for now.”

  A deep sense of loathing seeps into my soul as Amden carries me past. “Wait,” I say and he pauses, undecided. He turns to look back at Drakon, and I get my chance. “I will have you killed for this once I am queen.”

  I feel a thrill of triumph as Drakon’s haughty smile falters as I am carried through the door.

  The room is spinning. Not a gentle spin, but a horrendous, vomit-inducing spin. I clutch my head and pray for an end that comes slowly. The air smells odd, almost as if the room has been doused with smoke and pine. A deafening hum stabs at my eardrums, making me clutch my ears to try to block out the sound. A ticking, rhythmic and constant, makes me clench my eyes shut as it hammers into my head.

  “What is that awful noise?” I groan and roll to my side.

  Blinking several times to clear my vision, I see a tall wooden box standing before me. It has a glass front, a small square at the top, and a longer piece at the bottom. A pendulum swings to and fro in exact time with the ticking.

  Pushing myself up from the bed, I reali
ze this is the source of my pain. I stare up at the box, looking at the numbers fashioned in a circle. “It’s a clock,” I whisper, lowering my hands. I’ve never seen one of these that actually still works.

  I turn to survey my surroundings. The overhead lights are dim, allowing my eyes to adjust with minimal pain. Spreading out my hands, I realize the bed I’m lying on is unusually firm, almost as if the thin layer of mattress has been laid over a slab of rock.

  The air is cool against my skin. Panic seizes me as I realize I’ve been undressed. I cinch the bed sheet about my neck and peer into the corners of the room, searching for a guard, but see none.

  The walls are curved near the ceiling, off-white and shiny, as if glossed. There are no windows in the room. The only light comes from a circular lamp that hangs above my head and small lamps scattered about the perimeter of the room.

  There are no decorations to speak off. No pictures or mementos. The room is barren of all evidence of life.

  I shiver, wishing I had more than a sheet to cover up with. Leaning to the side, I try to see if my clothes have been left by the bed, but they are gone. “Figures,” I mutter as I rise, wrapping the sheet twice around me and tucking it in at the top to hold.

  The floor is soft and warm against the pads of my feet. The sheet whispers across the plush carpet behind me as I walk toward a darkened room to my left. As I lean to peer inside, a brilliant light flares to life, startling me. Before me, I see a small yet efficient bathroom.

  Dread sinks into my stomach as I press my hand to the wall, feeling the source of the hum ripple up through my hand. An engine. I’m on the ship and it has already left Earth.

  I lean against the wall and press my palms against my eyes, fighting to shove down my fear. Where is Bastien? Is he still alive?

  Pushing back my shoulders, I march back into the room, determined to find some clothes and then him. I’ll tear this ship apart if I have to.

  I press a small, nearly concealed button on the wall, and a closet door slides open. My lips press into a thin line at the sight of men’s uniforms, neatly pressed and hanging in a row. All of them bear the red phoenix emblem over the chest, but they also bear the insignia that belongs to only one person: Commander Drakon.

  I’m in his room.

  Darting a glance around, I narrow my gaze on the walls, hunting for a secret compartment. If there is one thing I learned during our last encounter, it’s that he likes to keep weapons close at hand. Hugging the wall, I trail my fingers over it in search of a seam.

  I whip around and drop into a crouch when the door on the far wall hisses open. A young girl enters, carrying a washing basin and an armful of towels and linens. She seems startled by my defensive stance but offers me a wide smile and passes by. She moves into the bathroom and sets down the basin. I can see steam rising from the water.

  “I thought you might like to have a wash before we arrive, my lady.” She glances at my face and I wonder if I look as awful as I feel.

  The girl can’t be much younger than me. Perhaps sixteen or seventeen. Her skin is smooth and milky, her eyes a beautiful shade of violet. Her lips are pale rose and full, boasting tiny laugh lines at the corners. Her smile is sweet and genuine.

  She holds out the towels to me expectantly. I rise slowly but make no move to approach. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Alesta. I’ve been chosen to have the honor of serving you, my lady.” Her voice is high and pleasant, like the trilling of a songbird.

  She stares at me with underserved awe. I shift uncomfortably. “There is no honor in serving a prisoner.”

  Her brow furrows with confusion. “I do not understand. Commander Drakon never said—”

  “Of course he didn’t.” I sigh, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. I rub my temples, wishing the droning hum would cease. “He wants people to think I came willingly.”

  “You didn’t?” she whispers.

  When I look up, I’m surprised to see moisture in her eyes. What is with these people?

  I bite back a cutting remark. “When will I be presented to the king?”

  “Oh.” A flush rises along her cheeks. “That will be within the hour.”

  “An hour?” I gasp. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Nearly three days, my lady. The commander ordered that you be left alone, so I have been waiting for you to wake.”

  “Three days,” I whisper, closing my eyes as I press my hands against my stomach. Bastien.

  I open my eyes and rise swiftly. “A friend came with me onto the ship. A boy. Dark hair. About a foot taller than me. Did you see him?”

  She hesitates, shifting her gaze. I quickly close the gap between us and force myself to touch her hand. “Please. He means a lot to me.”

  Alesta scrunches up her mouth, debating. “I’m not supposed to say…”

  I take a calming breath, forcing myself to stop and think instead of just react. I’m in Drakon’s territory now. His ship. His rules. But that doesn’t mean I can’t bend them.

  “Why do you call me my lady?” I ask.

  Her eyes widen. “Because you are to be my queen.”

  “And does that mean you must serve me? Do as I ask?”

  She nods her head enthusiastically, eager to serve. I smile. “Good. Then I require to know the whereabouts of my friend.”

  “I…” Alesta pales and lowers her head. “He is down by the engine room. No one is allowed in apart from the commander. I know nothing else.”

  “Have you seen him?” I press.

  Tiny ringlets of mahogany bounce about her face as she shakes her head. “No, but I have heard… screams.”

  My hand slips away from her as I clench my fingers into fists at my sides. Alesta raises her gaze to meet mine, and I realize she is a couple inches shorter than me, petite and beautiful. “Thank you, Alesta,” I manage to say before turning my back on her.

  “The commander spent little time with him, though,” she says in a rush, almost as if she needs to please me. “He had to see to preparations for your arrival.”

  “Is my friend hurt?”

  She hesitates. “Not as bad as he could’ve been.”

  I can feel my anger swirling with maddening speed. I twist my wrist, clenching my fingers. The sound of crumpling metal beside me startles Alesta. Her tiny hands cling to my arm as she steps away from the demolished closet door. “How did you—”

  “It doesn’t matter. What will happen to him when we arrive?” I glance back at her over my shoulder.

  “He’ll be taken before the king. His fate will be decided then.”

  I don’t like the way that sounds. No doubt Drakon will plead for Bastien to be turned over to him. And I… Will I even remember who Bastien is to claim him for myself?

  “I need clothes.” I turn to look at her and see fright mingled with awe. It makes me sick. “Alesta. Focus.”

  Her hands tremble as she holds out the towel. “You need to wash first.”

  “I don’t have time—” But this time she is the one who cuts me off. I’m not sure where the commanding voice comes from in such a small body, but she manages to make me pause. “I am here to assist you in preparations to be presented to the king. If I do not, I will lose my head.”

  I blink. “Literally?”

  She nods solemnly. “The king does not like disappointment.”

  I blow out a weighted sigh, shaking my head. My heart yearns to go to Bastien, to free him from the chains Drakon has bound him in, but I can’t just leave this girl to the king’s mercy either. She is my people, one of the people I gave Bastien up for in the first place.

  “Fine.” I growl, not feeling overly hospitable, but I see no way around it. I need to bide my time. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  Alesta’s stern expression melts away as she scurries across the room in a rustle of silk. She presses a hand against a hidden wall panel and removes a small vial from the lower shelf. There are many vials within. Some glowing a bright flame
-orange, others black and murky. The vial she selects is a calming aqua. “Here. This should help with the headache.”

  “I never said I have one.” The small glass bottle has a black cork on top. I raise the vial and shake it. It bubbles slightly but settles back into its clear state.

  “Human’s don’t travel well the first time.” She watches expectantly as I remove the stopper. I glance at her, praying it is right to trust her. What reason would Drakon have to harm me now that he is about to get exactly what he wants? I down the medicine. It feels like ice upon my throat. “You will feel the effects rather quickly.”

  A strange fluid sensation flows over my body, reaching from toes to ears with amazing speed. Even as the pounding in my head begins to fade, I realize the stiffness in my neck and back begins to ease. The tender flesh about my waist, leftover from my initial hike with Eamon, heals over. I press my hand to my stomach and realize the pain is gone, as is the soreness in my calves and blisters upon my feet.

  Alesta shoots me a knowing smile as she motions for me to follow her into the bathroom. “This stuff is amazing.”

  “It should be. It’s my special recipe.”

  “You made this?” I glance back to the wall at all of the multi-colored vials. “And those too?”

  “Yes. My mother was a healer. She taught me how to use nature to find the same essence in flowers and plants when I failed to inherit her gift. I may not be a normal healer, but I do all right on my own.”

  “So you’re an herbalist?” My thoughts drift to my best friend Aminah and her skill for making salves and tinctures from the forest. She would probably have much to discuss with Alesta if she were here.

  The girl frowns. “I don’t think I know this word.”

  “It’s pretty much the same… Oh, never mind. It doesn’t really matter.”

  Alesta drops her head. “Yes, my lady.”

  “Okay.” I place my hands on her arms and wait for her to look up at me. “We need to set some ground rules here. First off, as nice as you seem to be, I don’t need a servant. I’m perfectly capable of caring for myself. And secondly, don’t call me a lady. I’m not royalty.”