Her Merciless Prince

by Daniella Wright

  “That,” Starz agrees, “is what Time Agents are all about. Having all the time in the world and yet having none of it at all.”

  I nod. I really have nothing to add.

  “But this, Prince Eron, is the heart of being a Time Agent. So, remember. We will always remember a part of it, no matter what happens.”

  “Thank you,” I say. He might be telling me this because my parents would be placed in here eventually, and this would become their crypt.

  He might be telling me that he’s not sure if we can save them, but that he would remember, along with me, what truly happened to them.

  Or he might just be telling me that everything just passes, and nothing really matters, because time, our only true commodity, is not fluid, but air.

  And, someday, we’d all run out of it.

  “The radiation storm is much bigger than anticipated,” Starz mumbles, looking down at the readings just as we pierce the atmosphere of the planet.

  We’re heading straight for the city where my parents were going. If they made it off of their ship, that’s where they would be.

  Even if the ship had been hit while they were still on it, they would have made some attempt to reach that area if they survived the initial blast. It was the only lead we had, the only thing we’d been able to come up with in days of planning.

  I look down at the readings. This was a bad radiation storm.

  “What’s causing all of those spikes?” I ask. I didn’t like the look of them at all.

  “Umm.. those are a lot of different types of radiation. I think we may have underestimated this a little bit!” He chews on his lower lip as he focuses on navigating us down.

  I help as much as I can, but I’m not exactly as trained with this shuttle design. That’s why he’s here, after all. I’m still not sure why I’m here, except that, hopefully, I can help find my parents’ bones.

  My wolf sense of smell might just come in handy.

  “Clearing the atmosphere,” I report. That much I could read. The shuttle shakes, like an earthquake, except we’re not even on the ground. It’s the turbulence of the air shaking us around.

  “It was hard to tell how bad this would be from above,” Starz stutters as he holds onto the controls and tries to keep us as straight as possible, heading towards the city. “I guess we underestimated it.”

  “You already said that,” I respond, grabbing hold of the secondary controls and helping him hold us steady. But it barely helps as we jostle back and forth. Our belts are keeping us secured to our seats. Everything we haven’t secured flies about the shuttle. Thankfully nothing is very big.

  The console lights up red as we lose main engine propulsion. I look over to Starz who looks at me. His eyes are much wider than I ever thought they could be.

  “Hang on,” he says, and I do. I hang on for dear life as we go bouncing down through the storm, lightning rippling around us as we cross the threshold of the clouds. I see the ground below, but it’s gray and brown, only lit by the lightning.

  And the lightning? It’s not just the greens of my own home world. It’s yellow, and orange, and red, and purple. It’s angry with radiation, shooting down towards the earth as though trying to pierce it, to make it pay for some sin that it had committed against the skies.

  “The city should be over there,” Starz says. I look, and it’s just a barren landscape. Some fields, most of them destroyed. A couple struck by lightning, smoke smoldering. There’s no rain, which is eerie. It’s just radiation, thundering down onto the world. Here the clouds don’t weep water but weep the weapons that destroyed the earth. The weapons that turned the earth into this tired husk.

  The ground is getting closer. I lean back in my seat but hold on to the controls. I glance over at what Starz is doing. He seems to be holding us as steady as he can, but it’s clear that we’re heading straight towards a field. It’s as smooth a landing as we’re going to get.

  Around the fields are forest, mountains, cliffs, some rivers. We pass one field. If we don’t land in the second one, we’re going to hit one of the forests. That’s going to be much harder to manage smoothly. And to survive.

  Starz dips us down a little.

  “Hang on!” he screams.

  We hit.

  It’s like thunder itself is inside the shuttle, ripping throughout it. The sound of us impacting the ground, me flying against the consoles like lightning striking my mind. I blink away a few stars.

  We’ve landed. Starz is alive, and we’re okay.

  “We can’t get out yet,” he reports, already gathering his wits about him as I’m still trying to blink the stars out of my eyes.

  “The radiation is too high out there, we have to wait until the storm passes. Even then, when we can step out, let’s make sure to wear survival suits, Prince Eron.”

  “Now that we’ve almost died together,” I reply, giving him a thin smile, “how about you drop my little and just call me Eron?”

  Starz looks pleased. “I am honored. For now, let’s weather this storm out… You want a snack, Eron?” he asks, slapping me on the shoulder as he stands up to go in the back and look at our supplies.

  I don’t answer. I lean back against the shuttle seat, pray to all the blood moons, “Thank you for letting us land safely.”

  And I look outside to a strange world riddled with colorful lightning and radiation.

  How in the Blood Moon are we going to find my parents’ bones in this wasteland?

  Chapter 6

  Sybil

  Morning breaks with lightning dancing around the land still. Most of the villagers watch.

  Our instruments are fairly clear that it’s going to end in about thirty minutes. Not very long to wait.

  I’m watching with my parents in some untouched fields. Several of the lightning bolts have struck them. Some fires here and there dance in the radiation dust. We’re safe now behind our own little shield systems. Not the windows of my dreams, but radiation catchers— basically like lightning rods. They’re spread out all around our village, but we don’t have enough of them to protect all of our crops. There are only so many resources to go around, after all.

  The crops usually survive. That’s why we make them so tough. But it’s not the fire that concern me right now. It’s that beast, or whatever it is, that’s been damaging our crops.

  If we can spot it in action, maybe we can understand it better. Stop it. How exactly is it even doing what it’s doing? How does it destroy entire fields by just strolling through them? Does it even make sense?

  Maybe it’s not a beast. Maybe it’s some kind of infection, something that also affects the surrounding area. And the fire marks, maybe they’re pure coincidence. After all, science is just a string of theories. Theories that don’t always pan out.

  And this one had definitely not proven anything so far.

  I hear a gasp behind me, and a shout. I look up towards where someone points.

  Up in the sky, descending at great speed is something. What is it?

  “That looks like a shuttle,” my father mumbles.

  “It’s definitely a shuttle,” my mom agrees. “We haven’t seen one come down from the sky in almost a generation !”

  I stare at it, fixated on the dark object not quite falling from the sky. An orange and a purple lightning bolt strike it. Its metal glows as the lightning dances around it, the orange and purple turning bright white before dispersing.

  I don’t think it’s doing so well. I’ve never seen a shuttle, but I’ve heard stories of them. When they land, they come slowly, and they target somewhere safe.

  The inhabitants are generally peaceful, ask a few questions, do some trade, give us some technology to help us, and then they go back up to whatever worlds they come from. Worlds that I hope to visit myself someday.

  This shuttle isn’t coming gently. This shuttle doesn’t look like it’s about to land, it looks like it’s about to crash.

  “It’s heading straight for our fi
elds!” my mother says.

  “Hopefully it’ll hit the already damaged one,” Dad mutters.

  It skips over the field that still has crops intact, thankfully, and lands hard in the damaged field. Soil flies behind it before it skids to a stop. And then in smoke, it waits, silently.

  We all stare at it now. It’s dark, almost black. I can’t make out any symbols on it but it’s too far away to be sure. There’s no light, no indication of life, but that might be on purpose, maybe to avoid being seen? Maybe they hadn’t meant to come crashing down.

  “We can’t go out and see if they’re okay,” Dad says. “The radiation - it’s still too strong.”

  I look at the readings. A great board just at the exit of the caverns measures exactly how much is in the air. It warns that it’s not quite safe to step out yet. Twenty minutes remain for the storm. Twenty minutes, and then the radiation would be down to a tolerable level. The lightning would stop once the radiation dropped, since the radiation is what carried the lightning bolts down to the ground.

  I stare at the shuttle, wanting so badly to know who’s in there. Maybe someone who can help us. Maybe someone bringing new technology to protect us. Maybe someone who could help us save what remained of our crops, while our people still survived.

  Within half an hour, several of us from the village stand around the shuttle.

  The radiation is down to a tolerable level again. There’s barely a tingle on our skins. The sky is still gray as usual, but the lightning has stopped dancing down. It’s still rumbling up in the clouds above. I see some purple streaks jumping from one cloud to another, and some green. Some orange over there, and some pink.

  Without the radiation, the lightning can’t travel down to reach us, that much we know. Even if one or two bolts can come down, our lightning rods will be enough to handle them at this point.

  We’re safe. Safe enough to find out who just arrived on our planet. It’s been generations. I’m excited, but I try not to show it. Jordain hovers near me, and I don’t want to give any emotional beat that he might interpret as excitement toward him.

  He glances my way, trying to look callous and tough.

  My parents, ever the scientists, look very excited, ready to take notes.

  Glast, as the unspoken leader of our group, heads forward towards the door.

  “You can come out now.” he says.

  “I’m not sure that they’ll be able to hear you,” my mother tells him. He ignores her. She looks at my father, and rolls her eyes a little. I try not to giggle.

  A clank. Some steam, or something, comes out of the ship. The door opens down sideways, and then a ramp comes down to reach the ground.

  I hold my breath. I’m so excited and terrified all at once. What if these visitors aren’t peaceful? We’d never even discussed that. Why would we? Most of those who came before had been peaceful. But these? We wait.

  The mist dissipates. The ship’s atmosphere growing accustomed to our own. Two men step out, or at least I think they’re men. One is much taller than the other. The other is about the same height as my father - human height, although a little bit taller, perhaps, than usual.

  They’re wearing spacesuits or something like it. Red, marked with black.

  The taller one looks down at some indications on a small screen on his arm. Data streams across it, but I can’t read it. I want to read it, but I’m not sure I even know the language.

  He says something to the other man in a language I don’t understand, and they nod to each other. Their hands come up to remove their masks.

  “I guess they decided that the atmosphere is okay.” I hear someone say. We all wait, Glast trying to look important up front.

  The tallest man takes off his mask first. He looks almost like a snake! His eyes are slit. There’s a forked tongue that I can see when he speaks, though I don’t understand what he says. His skin is scaly.

  A few villagers step back. He holds up his hands in an appeasing gesture, or what to us would be one— but what does it mean to him?

  The other man finishes taking off his helmet. I watch as he reveals his face and his features. Strong jawline, dark hair. A little stubble. And those eyes… those intense eyes are orange.

  I stare at him. And I think he may be staring back at me, probably wondering why I’m looking at him like that. I don’t know how to explain it to him. I don’t know how to explain it to anyone, not even to myself.

  He stands before me, as he has many times before. Except, before, he only appeared in my dreams.

  I can’t believe it.

  I’m staring right at the man from my dreams.

  Chapter 7

  Eron

  I can’t stop staring at her. I try not to show it and look towards Starz instead. Then towards the other villagers. Towards this Glast man — proclaimed leader of these villagers. Not everybody afforded him the respect that I would expect as the leader of my people.

  But still, despite my best efforts, my glance travels back to her, like I’m still caught in a dream. Even as they greet us, explain about their planet, and as Starz hands out communication devices that they can latch onto their own ears so that they can understand what we’re saying to them.

  Even as all of this is happening, I still find myself drawn to her. Her blonde hair is tied back now. But I can see it tumbling down her back. I’m so familiar with it. Those blue eyes, serious, currently analyzing everything around her. But I know what they look laced with passion or laughter.

  Her skin is covered by clothes now, some skins, some textiles stitched together, mostly in shades of brown. I know what her skin looks like under that. I’m intimately familiar with every inch of her body, and I’ve never met her outside of my dreams.

  Until now.

  There she stands before me, and I can’t stop staring at her. It’s a good thing I don’t travel off planet too often. Some diplomatic king I’ll be if I can’t stop staring at the first girl I meet. But how often do you meet girls from your dreams, anyway? Girls that you’ve dreamt about since you were old enough to notice that girls were interesting?

  I want to ask Starz what he thinks, but I’m certainly not going to, not now while surrounded by these villagers. What’s most disconcerting about the whole thing is that I think she might be staring at me, too. Furtive glances, our eyes meeting once in a while before we both look away. I try to focus on whatever business is being discussed and the pleasantries that are being exchanged, while we walk back towards their village, leaving our shuttle behind.

  She walks beside me. She’s close. I can feel her heat even from here, in the chilly morning. I want to lose myself in her scent, in her presence. But I can’t.

  I try to distract myself with the conversation. Maybe the sound of her voice is different from what I’d imagined, and what I’d heard in my dreams.

  “We’re surprised to find any survivors here,” I say. Good start.

  “Well, I’m surprised to see people come down from the skies!” she answers, the laughter in her eyes so familiar— and her voice is exactly as I remembered from my dreams!

  It feels like meeting an old friend again - someone that I hadn’t seen in years, and yet it felt like no time had passed at all. Except I’d never met her. Except in my dreams. I have to remember that and not confuse her with a figment of my imagination. I have to try, anyway.

  It’s hard not reaching over and holding her hand as she walks beside me.

  “Your planet looks so beat up from up above,” I continue, “we thought for sure that everyone would be dead here. I mean, the radiation alone! That storm!” I stop.

  I lose my train of thought as I stare at her, and our eyes meet. She glances away, her pale skin flushing a bit. Am I imagining that she looks at me the same way I look at her? Like someone she’s known for a while, too?

  It can’t be. I’m imagining it to give myself permission to become familiar with her. And that’s not right— she’s asked for none of this and doesn’t know m
e. Her people are being kind to us. I have to keep my brain active, although right now I’d prefer reverting to my more primal instincts.

  This whole situation with time travel and losing my parents, it’s gotten my head wrapped up in places it shouldn’t be.

  Thankfully, she breaks the silence.

  “There are pockets of survivors here and there. Some villagers. We have some trade going on, a bit, but not much. I mean, the radiation storms are frequent enough, and if you get caught in one of them, you’re as good as dead.”

  “What keeps you safe?” I ask, desperate to keep looking ahead.

  “We have shielding devices, some technologies given to us by other shuttles in the past, that we’ve adapted. I can show them to you once we get to the village. It’s right there.” She points over to an outcropping of rocks and cliffs. I can’t really see much. I can see some caves leading inward, and there’s technology around them. Tall-reaching spires of metal with wires reaching down from one another.

  She points to them.

  “Those are the radiation rods and the lightning rods,” she says. “They keep some of the radiation out of our village, at least. Especially when the levels get too high. A few surrounding caves have them, too, for travelers caught unaware. Our crops aren’t protected though, and we’ve been having a hard time with those.”

  “Oh?” I ask. Suddenly concerned at the worry in her voice. That’s not a tone I’m used to hearing from her.

  Not that I’ve ever met her, I remind myself. At least, I don’t think I have.

  “I’m not sure what’s happening with the crops,” she says, growing animated. “I mean, every morning for the past couple of days, we wake up, and one of our fields is dying. I found some scorch marks near them, which is great. It might point to an animal, or something, or something that’s bringing in extra radiation that our crops can’t survive. But, I’m not sure.”

  She looks frustrated.