Shifting Isles Box Set (Books 1-3): The Prisoner, S.P.I.R.I.T. Division, and Return to Tanas

by G. R. Lyons

  Across the cell, he heard Vorena chuckle.

  “Come on, Hawk,” she murmured, patting the cot as she turned over onto her side.

  Benash hesitated so long that she turned back to look at him with a questioning expression.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Unless you want to keep waking me up with your grumbling.”

  She gave him a teasing smile and turned back over onto her side, putting her back to him. Moving slowly, Benash removed his gun belt, but kept it in hand, as he slid onto the narrow cot, curling his body around hers.

  Vorena settled back against him, even drawing his arm around her and hugging it against her chest as she sighed and fell asleep.

  Benash held her, hardly breathing, closing his eyes and reveling in the sensation of having a warm, soft body pressed against his own. After three decades of always sleeping alone, he suddenly felt a profound sense of something that had always been missing, that this was the way things were supposed to be.

  Taking a deep breath, he hugged her close, and fell asleep with a smile.

  * * *

  BENASH WOKE the next morning, startled at first to feel breath on his face, until he remembered where he was and tightened his arm around Vorena, smiling to himself as he opened his eyes.

  She was turned toward him now, sleeping peacefully, and for a moment, Benash felt as though all the problems in the world had simply vanished while he watched her chest steadily rise and fall.

  He brought his hand up to her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and then trailing his fingertips from her temple down to her jaw.

  Why could I not have had this every day? he thought. Why couldn't we all have had this every day?

  Benash studied her face, tracing his fingers down her nose, across her eyebrows, over her lips. He rested a hand on her cheek and saw her stir.

  “Mmmm,” she groaned. “Getting awful friendly there, Hawk.”

  Benash snatched his hand away, but she reached out to grab it and put it right back on her cheek as she smiled. With her eyes still closed, she rested her hand over his own and gave an easy sigh.

  “Gods…” he whispered, watching her.

  “What?”

  “I–” he began, then hesitated, wondering what she would think of his words, and glad that she wasn't looking at him. Taking a deep breath, he murmured, “I never knew it was possible to have such feelings for someone. Never knew it was possible to feel like this at all.” He paused, his smile fading. “Gods, you were right. The Elders really do have us chained. I always believed them when they said it was unnatural to have feelings and preferences, and always felt so guilty when I found myself even just liking one man over another, but now, here with you…this feeling…and such intensity…” He paused again, sighing. “Gods, why couldn't I have met you years ago?”

  Vorena opened her eyes and met his gaze, though her expression was carefully blank. She looked away, biting her lip, and asked, “Would you do something for me?”

  “Anything.”

  She laughed quietly, a hint of color to her cheeks, and asked, “Take me outside?”

  Benash stared at her, so intently that she met his eyes again.

  “I would if I could, Vorena, you must believe me–”

  “No, no, not literally,” she said with a bittersweet laugh. “No, I know that's impossible. Just…show me outside. Show me a sunrise.”

  Benash frowned. “Do you know, I don't think I've ever actually seen a sunrise.” He paused, recalling his mornings as a youth on the banks of the Pascatin. “At least, not in many years.”

  She looked at him again, sadness in her eyes, but she put on a smile and asked, “Then show me your world. Show me something from your life.”

  Benash closed his eyes and opened his mind to her, showing her the only things he could: his usual morning routine, his walk to work, his temptation at the fork.

  What brought me to you, he told her as he showed her his hesitation where the path split.

  He felt her smile as he led her on his first journey down that forbidden path, and his stop partway in as he looked up at the mountainside and saw the clearing for the first time.

  I've wanted so much to go up there, he said, for no other reason than the novelty of it. I kept wondering what the view would be like.

  He felt her smile. That's where we were headed. My camp, I mean. There was a rumor of a Gate somewhere up there, and that's where we were going the day you caught me.

  But you were alone that day.

  She shook her head. The camp was mostly scattered, true. We had split up and spread out, trying to free others, but I was traveling with my cousin and his daughter. They got away before you knew they were there. I saw you and told them to run.

  Benash shook his head with a laugh as she showed him the memory. I thought for sure you were alone. Gods be damned, your minds are strong. I had no idea there was anyone else nearby. So where does this rumored Gate go?

  Agoran, so we were told. That was always the dream: Get off Tanas, go to Agoran, live free lives. It was one thing to sit around the campfire and tell stories of freedom to entertain and inspire the children. Would be quite another to actually live such lives ourselves. Make our own choices. No longer be chained by government and regulation. Not have to watch our children become mindless automatons.

  Benash opened his eyes, studying her face as she lay there with her eyes closed.

  Do you… he started to ask, then swallowed heavily and continued, have children?

  Vorena snorted. Gods, no. Never even been kissed, let alone loved a man. There was always too much work to be done. Some of the women in the camp managed to travel with child, but I wanted to wait until I got to Agoran, where I could raise a child in safety and freedom rather than always on the run.

  Benash fought a smile, feeling oddly giddy at the thought that she wasn't tied to anyone.

  So what would you do on Agoran? he asked her.

  With her eyes still closed, Vorena laughed and shook her head. By the gods, that's a huge question. She paused, smiling, and said, Take Rothbur for a surname—you know it's common on Agoran to have family names, unlike here–

  Rothbur?

  She shrugged. 'Free slave.' Seems fitting.

  Ah. Indeed.

  Find work somewhere, she continued, start earning a living for myself. Marry someone by choice and for love rather than by law. Have a daughter. Name her Saira. Teach her to treasure her freedom. See a music performance. Visit a construction site to see how a building is raised. Try every type of food or drink I come across, just for the variety. Learn to read, and read every book I could get my hands on…

  Her thoughts trailed off, and Benash saw a bittersweet expression cross her face.

  If I could get you out of here–

  Vorena opened her eyes, pressed her hand over his mouth, and shook her head. It's no use, Benash. I'm dying.

  Benash held her eyes for a long moment, feeling his chest constrict with pain.

  “By the Gods, I swear it,” he whispered fervently. “If there is any way—any way at all possible—I will get you out of here. I'll get you to your people, and to that Gate. Surely there are doctors on Agoran who can help you–”

  A resounding bang startled them both, and they looked up to see Officer Garl standing at the cell door, glaring at them, his truncheon in hand.

  “Aren't you two cozy,” the man sneered.

  Under the pillow, Benash slipped a gun free of the holster and held it ready.

  “The Collision is coming in two days,” Garl taunted them. “Half past midday on Thrysday. I hope you're ready to die. Time is running out. Tick tock.”

  With that, he gave them another sneer and strode away.

  It was a few moments before Benash let out the breath he was holding.

  “Two days,” he murmured, staring at the cell door. “Gods be damned.”

  He looked back at Vorena, who smiled at him with resignation
.

  But Benash wasn't yet ready to give up.

  I must find a way…

  * * *

  BENASH SPENT that day and the next studiously observing the movements of all the officers, but no solution presented itself. At one point, he became so desperate that he even resorted to threatening and even begging some of the younger officers to let them out, but their duty was so ingrained that they refused to help.

  During the brief moments when Vorena was awake and coherent, she tried mentally picking the lock on their cell door, but even with Benash's assistance, they could never seem to muster the right amount of force to get the lock disengaged.

  Sighing with frustration, Benash sat down against the wall and held Vorena's hand as she collapsed back into sleep.

  “Oy, Benash.”

  He looked up and saw Garl standing on the other side of the door, his arms crossed over his chest and a grin on his face.

  “Look at what we have here,” the man taunted, and waved an arm to one side.

  A moment later, a boy in an officer's uniform approached and stopped at Garl's side. Benash stared, wide-eyed, as his breath caught in his throat.

  The boy was his eldest son.

  “What do you think of our new recruit?” Garl teased. “Had to fill a space once we all got promoted in your absence. I'm sure he'll make a good, obedient officer.” The man paused, turning to the boy. “You see what happens when people break the law?”

  The boy nodded, speaking mechanically as he said, “My father is a disgrace. I'm glad to see him behind bars, where he belongs.”

  Benash jumped to his feet and approached the bars, holding out both hands. “Son, think of what you're doing–”

  “Silence!” Garl roared.

  “Use your mind,” Benash persisted.

  “Shut up!”

  “Don't let them destroy you. Don't let them–”

  “STOP!”

  Benash saw the color drain out of Garl's face, and turned to see Vorena lying on the cot, shaking and pale, but aiming one of his guns directly at the officer on the other side of the bars.

  “Go away, or so help me,” she gasped, struggling to breathe.

  Benash stepped back slowly, took the other gun from the holster where it lay on the bed, and held it ready.

  Garl had his hands hovering near both his weapons, but the boy beside him looked so startled, he clearly wouldn't know what to do.

  The four of them stared at one another, silence filling the cavern as everyone held their breaths.

  “Know this, Benash,” Garl growled, eyeing the guns warily, but fighting to maintain an authoritative pose. “This boy will be obedient. He'll never be a traitor like you.”

  Garl spat on the ground, and made a deliberate show of unclasping his key chain from his belt and handing it over to Benash's son. The boy looked both startled and awed at earning such a display of power and control.

  “Just try it,” Garl taunted. “I dare you. Try to get him to turn over those keys to you.” He stepped closer and narrowed his eyes. “He'll never do it. You're going to die down here and you know it.”

  With that, Garl turned and strode away. The boy stared down at the bunch of keys for a long moment, then he straightened up, clasped the key chain to his belt, and gave Benash a dead, blank look as he walked away.

  Benash sighed and lowered his arm, turning just in time to see Vorena collapse back onto the pillow.

  “Gods,” she gasped, her hands trembling as she handed him his gun. “Your son. I'm so sorry.”

  “Shhh,” he murmured. “It's alright. Just rest.”

  “Benash–”

  “It's alright. I should have seen that coming.” He paused and brushed the hair back from her forehead. “Go back to sleep. It'll be alright.”

  Vorena shook her head, but slipped into unconsciousness before she could say anything more. Benash watched her for a moment, then turned to look back at the spot where his son had been standing.

  His mouth formed a grim line as he thought of the uncertainty he'd seen in the boy's eyes.

  Well, he thought, it's worth a try.

  Chapter 37

  THE DAY of the Collision came, and Benash lay awake, listening, knowing exactly what was happening when the hour of morning shift change came and went, leaving the prison oddly quiet.

  He laughed bitterly to himself and shook his head.

  “And they call me traitor,” he muttered.

  No officer came in for a usual morning round. No sound of voices floated in from where the officers should have been checking in for the day.

  They'd all abandoned, avoiding a painful death.

  Benash held Vorena as she slept uneasily, and felt the weight of a heavy silence that filled the underground prison.

  No one spoke, nor was there much sound of movement as the prisoners waited, counting down the hours until the Collision was meant to hit.

  They were trapped, and they were all going to die.

  Out of the silence, a muffled voice echoed throughout the underground space. Benash turned his ear toward the cell door, straining to listen, and heard scrambling footsteps along with a repeated call:

  “Hello? Hello?”

  The voice sounded frantic, and even more so the closer it got. Easing Vorena down onto the cot, Benash stood and went to the bars, looking through as he heard the clangs and scrapes of the cavern door being unlocked.

  Leaving the door standing wide open, Benash's son tore into the cavern, a panicked look on his face.

  “Hello?” he called out, looking around wildly. “Where is everyone?”

  Benash hung his arms over the bars of the cell door and murmured, “They're all gone.” The boy whirled around to face him, breathing heavily. “The Collision is coming. They've abandoned.”

  “But they can't!” the boy cried. “They can't disobey the Elders!”

  Benash held out one hand toward him. “Come now, son. Do the right thing. You know we'll all die if we stay down here. Let us out, and we'll all get away and live.”

  The boy backed away a few steps. “Let you out? You're mad!”

  “So you'd rather die down here with the rest of us?”

  His son flinched, and backed up another step. “I…I don't want to die, but…the Elders…it's our duty to…”

  “Please, son,” Benash said. “You know this isn't right.”

  The boy shook his head frantically, backed up a few more steps, and drew his guns on Benash, his arms shaking as he tried to aim.

  Moving slowly, Benash drew his own weapons, seeing the color drain out of his son's face as Benash stood there, calm and steady, while the youth continued to tremble.

  “Use your mind,” Benash murmured. “Think past your blind obedience. Come now, son, put the weapons away and we can all get out of here.”

  The boy shook his head, retreated another few steps, and was suddenly tugged back against the bars of a cell. He yelped and dropped his guns, struggling to get away from the hands that held him through the bars. After a moment, the prisoners released him and he stumbled forward, darting to the center of the room where no one could reach him.

  “It's alright, boy,” Benash said, lowering his weapons but still keeping them ready in case the boy took up his own again. “Just–”

  With a panicked look in his eyes, the boy scooped up his guns and fled, not bothering to shut the cavern door as he went.

  Benash let out a sigh and drew his arms back into the cell, holstering his weapons.

  “Well, it was worth a shot,” he muttered, and turned away.

  “Hawk, wait.”

  Benash glanced across the space and saw the lovers looking around, straining to see out the cavern, and then one of them slowly extended his arm through the bars and held up his hand.

  He was holding the boy officer's keys.

  “Oh, well done,” Benash said with a laugh.

  He watched as the two men reached through the bars and struggled to fit a key into the lock,
but even with Benash's better vantage point and guidance, they couldn't quite get the key to the right spot.

  “No, more to the left,” he softly called, and saw them move the wrong way. He growled to himself and corrected, “Sorry, my left, your right. More to the right.”

  When they finally found the lock, it was the wrong key. After trying and dropping the bunch several times, and all the while listening for any sound of the boy returning, the two men sighed with frustration.

  “Here,” one of them called, and stuck his arm through the bars, swinging the keys back and forth and finally letting them fly across the cavern.

  Benash watched the bunch sail across the space and land with a dull clatter in the midst of the room.

  “Shit,” the other one muttered.

  “Sorry, Hawk, I…”

  Benash shook his head and dropped to the ground, thrusting an arm through the bars and reaching for the keys. No matter how hard he strained, he couldn't get his fingers anywhere close to them.

  “Gods be damned.”

  He tried again, but even with his shoulder wedged between the bars of the cell door, there was no way for him to reach the keys.

  Propping himself up on his elbow, he glanced around, but the only loose objects he could find to extend his reach were his guns and his truncheon. He drew out the truncheon and reached again through the bars, but still came up short. He thought about waking Vorena and having her attempt it with her mind, but he couldn't bear the thought of disturbing her rest.

  “Someone's coming,” one of the prisoners whispered.

  Benash listened, and heard scrambling footsteps somewhere in the prison. He stretched out his arm again, straining as much as he could.

  Come on, Benash, he thought. You can do this.

  Narrowing his eyes, he stared at the bunch of keys, willing them to move closer.

  You can do it. You know it's possible. Come on, you can do this!

  With his arm stretched as far as it could go, Benash stared at the bunch of keys, trying to see the air around them the way Vorena had described, trying to generate whatever current was necessary to get the keys to come to him. His hand shook, and sweat broke out on his forehead as he strained.

  “Gods damn it all, come on!” he growled, slamming his fist on the ground and reaching again, panting as he focused on the keys.