The priestess clearly did not understand the reference, and she ignored Sera completely. Turning to Theyn, Alaia said, “It’s time for you to go among your people.”
Beno stood between Theyn and Alaia and her armed guards. He crossed his arms and glared at the priestess. “To what end?”
She smiled beatifically. “To work miracles, of course. If you would accompany us, Prince Theyn, your loving followers await you.”
“He’s not going without me,” the dark-skinned Ylian objected.
“Of course not. It would ruin the effect of the probes going off if he couldn’t witness it.” She turned her smile onto Theyn. “But then, I don’t think any of you will be saying anything you shouldn’t. Will you?”
He took a deep breath. “No. Of course not. It would help if you would tell me what I am allowed to say.”
She gestured to the soldiers, who walked further into the room. Instead of the usual complement of three, this time there were six armed hybrids, all of them grim-faced. They arrayed themselves around the three bond mates and stepped closer, creating a living cordon around them. Bracelets with triggers adorned every wrist.
“Two bracelets each?” Sera said. “Pardon the pun, but isn’t that overkill?”
“One bracelet per guard activates your collar, Selected. The other bracelet activates the Companion’s,” Alaia explained. “At any moment, any one of them can eliminate one or both of you.”
Theyn pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed. He took another deep breath. “What do you want me to do, and what do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell them that relief and the Burning One are close at hand. I want you to tell them that you’re here to lead them back to freedom. And I want you to tell them that you will restore the merging ability to Ylians and Ylian hybrids.”
Beno squinted. “Ylian hybrids never had the ability to merge.”
Alaia chuckled. “Ah, but the Burning One can do anything, can’t he? Or should I say, she? Your daughter is an extraordinary little girl.” Sera went cold. She turned back to Theyn. “If there are injured people, or sick people, you are to use your healing ability to help them, but not all of them. Only one per crowd. Only a demonstration of the Burning One’s goodness and power. Am I clear?”
He opened his eyes again and looked at her with such a defeated expression that Sera wanted to take him in her arms and comfort him. Theyn said, “Clear.”
“And as for the two of you,” Alaia said, looking from Beno to Sera and back again, “you are to say nothing and do nothing but stand there. You are supporting the prince, nothing more. If you open your mouths even once to do more than breathe, we will activate your probes. Do you understand?”
Sera wanted to say something, but she was certain it would go badly for her if she did. She only nodded. Beno stared at Alaia with a stony face, not responding. She took his lack of comment as acceptance.
“Excellent.” The priestess nodded to the guards. “Let’s go.”
They left their cell and followed Alaia into a large and well-appointed elevator that gleamed with highly-polished faux stone floors and walls. Sera put her hands against the veneer on the wall nearest her, and it was cool and smooth to the touch. The stone the veneer mimicked was sand brown with shades of pink shot through it in irregular stripes, not too unlike the pattern of swirls in marble. It was beautiful, but like everything else she’d seen so far on Bruthes, it rang false.
The lift continued to rise toward the surface, and she wondered exactly how far beneath the ground they were. It seemed to be taking a very long time to get to their destination, even though it felt like they were moving very fast. The lift shuddered softly once, then shifted its direction to move to her left instead of up. She grabbed Theyn to steady herself at the unexpected change in direction, and he squeezed her hand. Through their bond, she could feel his anxiety as acutely as if it was her own, and her heart skipped faster in response. A feeling of dread settled over her that she couldn’t explain. On the other side of the cab, Beno turned to her, his green eyes somewhat less luminous than usual, his dark lashes lowered. She could not read his expression and his mind was uncharacteristically closed to her. She decided that he must have been hiding his fear from her, trying to stay brave for her and for Theyn. It made her love him all the more.
The cab sped along for several minutes, then abruptly headed upward again. She had a mental image of riding a ball through a hamster cage with a million tubes. She wondered facetiously if there would be treats waiting for them at the end of the maze.
The lift stopped moving, but the doors didn’t open. The soldiers wrapped them in brown hooded robes, lightweight but dark-colored and totally concealing, like a cross between a medieval monk’s habit and a burqa. Alaia told them, “Say nothing. Keep your eyes shaded and do not look up. Watch the ground and follow where we lead you.”
“Why?” Sera asked.
The priestess sighed. “Must you always be so difficult?”
“More or less.”
“We will be taking you out of the temple and into the settlement as a whole. We may meet up with Taluan patrols before we get to the safe house.”
“This place is a temple?” Sera was surprised. “It doesn’t look anything like what I thought a temple would be.”
“This is a Ylian temple,” Alaia sniffed. “I don’t expect a simple Earthling to understand what that means.”
They allowed themselves to be swaddled in the voluminous robes, and Theyn told his mates, ‘These are what temple acolytes wear before they achieve the priesthood.’
‘Stylish.’
Once they were fully wrapped up, the doors to the lift were opened. A blast of hot, dry air nearly knocked Sera off of her feet. A strong wind laden with fine brown dust rushed into the cab, and before they took two steps, they were coated with it. Alaia pulled up a hood from her white robe and covered her elaborate hairdo and make-up. When she was prepared, she nodded to the leader of the squad of soldiers, and he stepped out of the lift ahead of them.
“Make way!” he shouted. “The High Priestess passes!”
Sera struggled to resist looking through the fabric that covered her face, wondering who the soldier was yelling at. She kept her eyes downcast as she’d been told, aware that the glowing of her newly Ylian orbs would be very noticeable amid all of the shades of brown. Their group walked slowly forward, and she could see dozens of pairs of feet, some in brown boots, some in sandals, some unshod. They were surrounded by people whose feet looked very human, except for the smattering of osteoderms that covered them. There were crowds in this place, and she wondered who they were.
She thought of all the temple complexes she had ever studied and attempted to extrapolate from what she’d known. There was probably a market of some kind at the base of the temple, selling objects to be used as offerings, or possibly just banding together for a little simple commerce in a common meeting place. She heard what sounded like animals bleating, but it sounded unlike any animal she had ever encountered. Obviously, here on Bruthes there were no goats or sheep like the ones she had known on her own planet.
Her own planet. She still couldn’t believe that she wasn’t even on Earth anymore.
A babble of voices filled the air as they made their slow progress through the throng. She heard Ylian words and what she assumed was Bruthesan, and here and there she even heard English, spoken in American or Canadian accents. She wanted to look at the speakers, but if she dared to do such a thing, she’d attract attention and probably would end up with her frontal lobe scrambled. She listened to the familiar sounds and kept walking.
A bitter scent wafted past her nose, sour like acid and just a little fetid. A guttural voice barked something at them, and Alaia stopped short. The guards tensed, and Sera could feel a frisson of fear from Beno through their telepathic bond.
‘Taluans?’ she asked.
Her mate’s mental voice was tight, and she could feel the skin on his back prickl
ing. ‘Yes.’
The stench came closer, and through her eyelashes, she could see scaly, three-toed feet. The claws on the ends of those toes were long as knives, and she imagined the scythe-like weapons of velociraptors. She wondered if Taluans used them the same way.
She remembered the hideous lizard-like beings she had seen in Beno’s memories, and the one that had crash landed at Asa’s ranch. She remembered the smell of its dead body, and the brutality they had visited on her mate when they had him in captivity all those years ago. These monsters were the ones who had destroyed Ylia, who raised humans and human/alien hybrids for food, and who would happily rip her own world apart if given half a chance.
She hated them.
“What is this about, Priestess?” one of the Taluans asked, his voice sibilant and gravelly at the same time.
She answered calmly, “I am escorting these acolytes to the hospital to do their charitable work. I have been granted permission for free movement through the city.”
The Taluan rasped out what might have been a laugh. “Nobody is stopping you from moving through your designated areas. Let me see these acolytes. Have they been vetted?”
“They are breeders. They are not to be culled.”
A scaly snout appeared in Sera’s line of vision, and the creature sniffed at her. “Hmm. Yes. This one has borne a child recently. I can smell the milk.” He reached out and grabbed at her chest, pinching her sore and heavy breast. She recoiled with a cry of disgust and pain, and he laughed. “Still nursing? So tender?”
“Kindly refrain from handling her,” Alaia sniffed. “You will frighten her into drying up.”
The Taluan laughed again. “Heh. Mammals.” He stepped back. “Go on to your hospital.”
“Thank you, Captain.” The priestess bowed to the alien, and then the little group continued on their way.
Beno was burning. ‘Are you all right?’
She knew that he and Theyn could probably feel the throbbing from her bruised bosom. ‘Yeah. I probably have a thumbprint in a rude place, but I’m fine. Handsy bastard.’
They walked for at least a mile, possibly two, through tightly winding streets. The heat was oppressive, and the sunlight was brutally bright even through the robes that they wore. Everything Sera could see was brown – the fabric of her robe, the skin of the people they passed, the dirt and sand on the ground. The dry, sour smell of Taluans was everywhere, curdling in her nose and making her stomach twist.
After passing through a nearly vacant plaza, they reached a heavy titanium gate with a key scanner that opened with a press of Alaia’s palm. As they passed through, Sera could see that the road ran to the left and right from where they entered. She could smell something now in addition to the stench of Taluans, and she pressed her hand over her mouth and nose. It was the smell of death and feces and old blood, the reeking of an abattoir. She shuddered.
Alaia spoke as she led them to the right. “The hospital is in this direction. The other side of the compound is the meat packing facility.”
‘I’m going to be sick…’ Theyn thought.
‘Right behind you,’ she agreed.
“Meat packing facility,” the prince said aloud. “What a lovely euphemism for a slaughterhouse. How many of our people have you sent there, Priestess?”
Alaia stopped in her tracks, and then she turned to face him. “As many as I needed to send to keep the majority of our people alive and as close to free as possible. Do you think I enjoy this life? Do you think I get any satisfaction from knowing that our people are being killed and cut up into handy serving sizes for these bastards? I hate it, but I also know that cooperation is the only thing that stands between the last of the Ylians and utter destruction.”
“Cooperation of that kind only forestalls the inevitable,” Theyn told her quietly.
“Yes,” she agreed, “and that’s why the temple is doing what it can to shelter and support the Resistance. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” He took a breath. “I understand very well.”
“Good.” She stepped back. “Now follow me. There are people in this place who need you.”
They passed through an energy field, and Sera felt her entire body tingle as she crossed an invisible barrier. On the other side, the stink from the slaughterhouse was gone, and only the sterile, chemical smell of antiseptics remained. They walked a few feet more and went through another energy barrier, then into the hospital itself.
It was cool and dim, and Sera told herself she would never complain about the smell of a hospital again. It was so much preferable to the other aromas she had encountered in the city. Doors were closed behind them, and they walked down a long hallway through another set of doors, which also closed after they had gone through. The guards stopped them and took the robes from their shoulders.
“Look up,” Alaia told them.
They did. They were standing in a ward room filled with beds and hovering seats that were the Ylian answer to wheelchairs. Sick and injured Ylian females and hybrids of both genders lay or sat all around them, matching looks of hope and reverence on their sallow faces. They looked at Theyn with wonder, and slowly, they all put their hands over their hearts in a sort of salute.
Their mate took a breath and whispered, ‘Give me strength…’
Beno asked, ‘Is that figurative or literal?’
‘Both.’
The Martial Ylian nodded. ‘I give you my energy,’ he told his partner. ‘Take whatever you need.’
Theyn cast a brief, wan smile in their direction, and then he walked toward the waiting patients, his chest already beginning to glow with the power of his healing talent. The hoverchairs inched closer to him, surrounding him, as he went to one of the beds. A Ylian woman, a full blood, lay there in obvious pain. She held a trembling hand out toward him.
“Oh please,” she whispered. “Bless me, O Burning One.”
Theyn took her hand in his own, and the glow from his solar plexus traveling down to where their fingers touched. “I am not the Burning One, merely one of his servants and descendants, but I will do what I can to help you.”
He closed his eyes and brought his other hand forward to rest upon her abdomen. Sera could feel Beno funneling his own life force into their mate, giving him strength to power the healing he was trying to do. Theyn took that energy and somehow channeled it, pushing it through his palm and into the woman before him. She began to glow softly, as well, and she inhaled sharply in surprise and possibly a little pain. Theyn bowed his head, his lips moving. Sera supposed he must have been praying. She tried to add her own energy to the effort.
Whatever Theyn was doing, it did the trick. The woman’s color improved, and the glow in her yellow eyes grew stronger. Her body relaxed as she let go of her pain. The prince opened his own eyes and smiled at her.
“I am blessed,” she breathed.
He nodded. “You are whole.”
A hybrid woman nearby began to weep, and others murmured words of prayer and thanksgiving. The assembled faithful bowed deeply to Theyn, all but worshipping him. Sera could tell how uncomfortable he was to be at the center of such attention. She could also tell that Alaia was well pleased.
“Hail, Prince Theyn,” the priestess said, her voice floating above the whispering of the crowd. “Hail, Bright God!”
The people pressed closer, and Theyn reached back to grasp his mates’ hands so they wouldn’t be separated. The three of them stood in the center of a mass of adoration, the hands of eager strangers reaching out to touch them. Fingers stroked Theyn’s hands and his face. People touched his arms and his body, trying to gain some sort of blessing from the contact. Others, unable to reach the object of their devotion, pawed at Beno and Sera instead, opting for the next best thing.
It was unnerving. The press of people was too close, and the desperation behind their outpouring of joy was too palpable. The crowd pressed even closer, crushing them against one another.
‘They’re going to love us to d
eath,’ Sera thought to her mates.
‘Get us out of here,’ Beno requested, transmitting his request to Alaia and her soldiers.
The priestess nodded to them, and the guards pushed forward, shoving and elbowing the people away from the three bond mates. The crowd moaned in disappointment but backed away reluctantly. The soldiers surrounded Theyn and his mates, protecting them, weapons turned out toward the people.
Theyn held up a hand. “There is no need for weapons, gentle beings,” he said. “And there is no need for this pushing. I will see as many of you as I can. Please see the Mother of Flames - she will help you to arrange yourselves to reach me. I am only one man. There is only so much that I can do.”
“No!” a woman cried out. “You are more than a man! You are our god!”
Another woman took up the cause. “You are the Burning One!”
Somewhere above them, a door opened, and Sera’s senses exploded with the nearness of her child. She looked up at a balcony hanging over the room, and there stood Nima, little Kira in her arms.
She cried out mentally and physically as soon as she saw her. “Kira!”
Beno and Theyn saw and felt her, too, and they were struck with the same horrified panic and deep relief that flooded Sera. Kira struggled against Nima, holding out her arms toward her parents, trying to reach them. Instinctively, Sera reached back, but they were too far apart, just like in all of her dreams. The guards grabbed the three of them and pulled them back, forcing them to retreat through a portal in the wall opposite the balcony. The door closed between them, and as the barrier blocked her view of her child’s face, Sera screamed again.
“Kira!”
Chapter Seventeen
Sera collapsed into the arms of her mates, sobbing her heartbreak as their daughter disappeared behind the closing door. Alaia scowled and pulled back her hand as if she was preparing a slap, but the look on Beno’s face stopped the motion. Instead, she snapped, “Quiet yourself. Be happy that we let you have the look you had.”
Ignition: Alien Ménage Romance (Phoenix Rising Book 2) Page 14