Accursed Space - A Dark Space Fantasy (Star Mage Saga - A Dark Space Fantasy Book 5)

by J. J. Green

  “You came back!” exclaimed Oriana. “What was the battle like?”

  “Never mind that,” said Ferne. “Tell her what we’ve been doing.” Then, without giving his sister a chance to go along with his suggestion, he continued, “We had a battle of our own. We saved the ship!”

  Carina sat very still. Darius’s arms were around her neck and he was sitting on her lap, but she didn’t move.

  She could feel the blood draining from her face as her rage rose.

  Oriana, Ferne, and Nahla gazed at her, their excited, triumphant expressions fading to dismay.

  Darius’s arms slipped away and he climbed off her before standing with his head hung low.

  “What’s wrong?” Ferne asked cautiously.

  “Did I give you permission to leave the cabin?” asked Carina between her teeth.

  Oriana replied, “No, but—”

  “Did I say you could take part in a firefight, for stars’ sake?”

  “We had to!” Ferne protested. “The ship was being boarded at the airlock. If we hadn’t—”

  “He’s right,” said Oriana, her tone defiant. “And we helped. We really did. We Cast Lock, and we Transported some of the enemy soldiers, and—”

  Carina leapt to her feet. “You could have been killed!” she yelled, her hands clenched at her sides. “You could all have died!”

  “Jace was there too,” said Ferne, his lip sticking out stubbornly. “He said it was okay for us to join in, as long as we stayed back.”

  “Jace isn’t your family,” Carina spat. “He doesn’t have the right to give you permission to risk your lives. Stars!” She slammed her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Haven’t you learned anything from the battle on Ostillon? Darius is lucky to be alive. It could all have gone horribly, horribly wrong.”

  “But you—”

  “I know!” Carina roared. “I know I was the one who took you there! I know it was my fault Darius nearly died!”

  She couldn’t bear looking at the scared, confused faces of her siblings any longer. She stomped to the cabin door, pushing past Oriana and Ferne, and left.

  Chapter Twelve

  The soldier wasn’t going to make it. Parthenia had exhausted her supply of elixir trying to Heal him, but his injuries were too severe. He’d been shot in the chest, arm, and thigh. It was the chest wound that seemed to be the problem. Receiving a pulse round in that area had done something to his heart that the Heal Cast couldn’t fix.

  Parthenia’s throat tightened as she knelt next to the dying man, remembering Mother. When life could no longer be sustained and the end came, Heal only forestalled the inevitable. She’d tried over and over again to prevent her mother from slipping away, but all her efforts were useless.

  She looked up, suddenly aware that she and the doomed merc were the only two people remaining in the Bathsheba’s airlock. The fight inside the ship appeared to be over, and the soldiers she’d already helped had gone somewhere else, perhaps assigned new duties.

  Should she tell the man there was no hope? She trembled at the thought of delivering such terrible news. Yet maybe he had some last messages or instructions to leave about things that were important to him. If only one of his fellow soldiers was around, or an officer, or even Carina—anyone else would be better suited to the task.

  The man’s visor opened. Parthenia sucked in a breath. Blood from his chest wound had splashed up onto his neck and face, which was also scorched red and blistered from the heat. His eyes were open and he was looking at her.

  She tried to force a smile, but she feared she was only managing a grimace.

  The soldier’s mouth worked and his neck muscles tightened as he tried to speak. A few quiet words squeezed out. “Thanks…for trying.”

  Parthenia could see the life in his eyes begin to fade. Tears rose up, over spilled, and rolled down her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Did…” the man swallowed “…what you could.”

  She took his hand in both of her own, determined to give him some comfort, at least.

  “Hey, Scanlon,” called a voice.

  In her distraction, Parthenia hadn’t noticed the thud of a merc’s boots as he ran into the airlock.

  “What are you doing there?” Without waiting for an answer, the new arrival went on, “Lazing around again, huh? Move out of the way, please, miss.”

  Somewhat dumbfounded by the merc’s brusque, jokey manner, Parthenia moved aside.

  “He’s…” She wanted to convey the dying man’s state to the other soldier, hoping to prevent his further suffering, but she couldn’t find the words.

  The soldier squatted down and scooped Scanlon into his arms. With a grunt of effort, he lifted the limp form, and then carried him away into the Duchess.

  Parthenia was suddenly alone. She felt numb. How many soldiers had she Healed? She couldn’t remember. They had come and gone so fast. She’d Healed some of them twice—they’d returned to the battle only to be wounded again.

  A heavy blanket of exhaustion settled over her. She felt weak and faint, probably due to the large number of Casts she’d made in a short space of time. But it was more than that: it was the pain, the wounds, the groans and cries of the injured, that had done something to her. Witnessing so much suffering had left an imprint on her soul.

  Slowly, she got to her feet. She guessed the Black Dogs must have won the battle with the soldiers from the destroyer. The vast, dark chamber beyond the Bathsheba’s airlock was empty. Even the injured and dead enemy troops had disappeared. And no sounds were coming from within the Duchess.

  It was time to return to her family and check they were okay.

  Returning to the mercs’ vessel and lighted areas, Parthenia lifted her visor. Distant shouts and thuds came to her from afar. It sounded like something was happening on the other side of the ship. Another fight, perhaps.

  She should go there and help out, but she needed more elixir, and she no longer had a weapon. She didn’t recall what had happened to it.

  The mages’ elixir was stored in the galley, and she decided to go there first. Picking up another rifle from somewhere, assuming she could find one, was probably pointless. She was most helpful to the mercs as a mage, not a fighter, though her recent experience had left her feeling hopeless. The idea of Healing men and women so they could go out and get hurt again, or even die, sickened her.

  She walked along the passage, turned a corner and then another, but then she stopped. She looked around her, confused. She’d thought she’d been heading toward the galley, but she didn’t recognize this part of the ship. She turned around and went back the way she’d come, hoping to return to her starting point and figure out where she’d gone wrong.

  During their journey to the inter-sector vessel, Carina had discouraged her siblings from wandering about, telling them they should stick to their cabin, the mess, the galley, and the few other general-use areas. What exactly her older sister was worried about, she’d never explained. It wasn’t like they could fall off the ship or be captured by one of their several enemies.

  She’d humored Carina for the most part and echoed her warnings to her brothers and sisters, but she was getting tired of her oldest sibling’s constant, overbearing bossiness. For a long time, she’d looked up to Carina and respected her, notwithstanding that time when she’d Enthralled her, but those days were over.

  Parthenia halted again, once more confused by her surroundings. She felt dizzy and nauseated. Putting a hand to her head, she tried to figure out where she’d taken the wrong direction, but images of wounded soldiers flashed across her mind, muddling her thoughts.

  She decided to continue on, hoping to end up in familiar territory, or maybe she would see someone she could ask for help.

  The far-off sounds of battle had faded. She walked slowly on, turning down random passages for several minutes, until suddenly she found herself near the cabin she shared with her family. Her pac
e sped up in her relief at finding herself nearly ‘home’, and she hurried toward the door.

  It opened, and her relief redoubled when she saw all four children safe inside, though Jace wasn’t with them, which was a disappointment. He’d said he would look after them while she was gone.

  An atmosphere of gloom and despondency hit her almost palpably. The glum faces of her siblings pivoted toward her as one.

  “Stars,” she said. “What’s happened? Did we lose?”

  “No,” Oriana replied. “We won. It’s all over. The Black Dogs fought the attackers all the way back to their ship and then seized it.”

  She went on to explain how the enemy had also tried to board the Duchess through one of the airlocks, and that the children and Jace had helped to repel the troops.

  “Carina found out,” said Ferne despondently. “Well, we told her, thinking she wouldn’t mind too much, considering we weren’t hurt at all and we’d done a great job.”

  “Oh.” Parthenia sat down heavily on a bunk. “I see.” After experiencing her sister’s reaction earlier when she’d tried to help in a battle, she could imagine how the revelation had gone down.

  Her siblings’ hurt and sadness cut her deeply. Their sister must have given them a severe tongue-lashing.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “Carina isn’t going to tyrannize us anymore. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  A pile of ancient documents sat in the center of the table in the mission room, between Carina, Cadwallader, and Jace. The writings, charts, and maps represented everything she’d worked for over the last months, perhaps even a year or longer—she’d lost track of the time that had passed since escaping from the Sherrerrs. They represented all her hopes and dreams of a safe, happy future for her family and herself.

  And yet, when she looked at them, in place of the joy and relief she might have expected to feel was only hollow emptiness. The old, dry paper seemed to symbolize what was at the heart of her.

  Someone coughed.

  She looked up. Jace’s gaze was upon her, serious and questioning.

  “So, as I said…” Cadwallader was also watching her intently and clearly annoyed. Apparently, he was having to repeat himself “…we have some closely related decisions to make, and we must make them now, before we set off on our long journey. Firstly, what do we do with Mezban and her troops? Secondly, what do we do with Lomang and his brother, and, thirdly, what do we do with Calvaley? Do we leave them all behind and face the fact they may try to follow us, or, in Calvaley’s case, inform the Sherrerrs where we’ve gone, do we take them with us, or do we ‘dispose’ of them?” His nose wrinkled as he stated the third option.

  Killing the prisoners would be a drastic and painful act, but it couldn’t be denied it was the choice that made the most sense in terms of safety. If they did perform the executions, they would be secure in the knowledge that the former occupants of the destroyer would never escape and retake it.

  Carina imagined the sight of hundreds of bodies floating in the void, frozen and bloody.

  “I’m deeply opposed to murder,” said Jace, “no matter what the circumstances, though I admit that it’s going to be hard to keep so many men and women securely confined.”

  “What about you, Lin?” Cadwallader asked. “What’s your opinion?”

  “My opinion is, I don’t know why he’s even here,” she said hotly, glaring at Jace.

  “I’ve already explained,” said Cadwallader in a calm tone, “I value Jace’s input, and—”

  “Well I don’t!” She gritted her teeth and added, more evenly, “He took my brothers and sisters into a dangerous situation without my permission. He allowed children to risk their lives. Those are not the actions of someone who thinks straight or cares about consequences. He has nothing to offer here. If you value the outcome of this mission, I suggest you exclude this man from our discussions.”

  “No.” Cadwallader appeared to try to pierce her with his ice-blue stare. “Jace’s and the other mages’ help in the attack at the airlock was invaluable. If they hadn’t been there Mezban’s troops might have taken the Duchess. Where would we all have been then, including your siblings? He did the right thing at the time. He also has considerable experience in a position of significant responsibility, and he demonstrates maturity and fair-mindedness.”

  “And I don’t, I suppose?” Carina pushed her chair back and stood up. “You’re forgetting it was me who found these papers here, it was me who paid for the repair and updating of the Duchess, and it was me who armed and equipped the Black Dogs. I have the Bathsheba now. I don’t need either of you.” She reached out to sweep the documents up into her arms.

  Cadwallader laid a heavy hand on top of the pile.

  “Sit down, Lin. Don’t be a fool.”

  “Carina,” said Jace, “I’m sorry for taking your brothers and sisters with me to help in the battle. I knew you would have forbidden it, and I should have told them to stay behind. But also, I knew they’d gone with you into the old mage fortress on Ostillon, so I thought…”

  She looked down, a lead weight pressing on her heart.

  “I want Jace here as a balance between you and me,” said Cadwallader softly. “Three is a good number for making the best decisions. Please, sit down.”

  The unusual gentleness from the lieutenant colonel calmed her and brought a lump to her throat. She swallowed and resumed her seat.

  “I don’t think holding so many prisoners should be much of a problem,” she said. “The chamber where we fought the first battle…did either of you take a good look at it?”

  “I haven’t been aboard the inter-sector ship yet,” said Jace.

  Cadwallader replied, “I had other things to think about.”

  “To be honest, I’m not sure I’m right,” Carina said, “and even if I am, there’s no guarantee the system would still function for so many, but I believe the Bathsheba used to be a colony ship. I think the room beyond the airlock is a Deep Sleep chamber, designed to hold hundreds of colonists.”

  Cadwallader folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “So, we could put Mezban’s soldiers into Deep Sleep capsules. That would be the perfect solution, though temporary. We couldn’t keep them there forever.”

  “But we could hold the troops, Lomang and Pappu, Mezban and Calvaley, in Deep Sleep until we’re so far from civilization there’s no threat of them finding a way to come after us,” said Carina.

  “I guess we’re talking about marooning all of them on a remote but habitable planet,” Jace said. “I confess I’m not very happy with that plan either, but I could live with it.”

  “Good.” The lieutenant colonel nodded. “Let’s investigate that possibility. I’ll tell the tech team to look into it.” He reached into the documents and began to spread a few on the table. “We’re confident we have all the information we need from these to plot a course for Earth?”

  Carina eyed the yellow, aged sheets. In the weeks it had taken to travel to the Bathsheba, she had pored over them, taking in every detail. The Star Map she’d spent years memorizing had only ever been a test for those who were determined to return to Earth, the place that had been so dangerous for their kind. The papers included the true coordinates for the home planet, but the mages had also written pages and pages in a strange script the ship’s computer could only partially translate. The information included their history, their home in the mountains, their fight to leave for the stars, the long expedition to freedom, and the earliest days of their settlement.

  It had been an emotional and harrowing experience for her, reading about the struggles and persecution of her ancestors. The details she’d managed to understand had been disconcertingly familiar, and she’d begun to doubt the wisdom of her desire to go to a place that mages had fought so hard to leave. In the end, she’d felt she’d gone through so much to find the documents, and put everyone else through so much, it was too late to back out.

  “Yes,” s
he replied shortly to Cadwallader’s questions. “I’m sure.”

  “Then let’s move on to the next phase,” Cadwallader said. “We familiarize ourselves with the new vessel, make safe and dismantle all of Lomang’s traps, and prepare for our voyage.”

  “Right,” said Carina. “So, we’re done?”

  “For now.”

  She rose to her feet again. “I have some business to attend to. Excuse me.”

  Feeling Cadwallader and Jace’s eyes on her, knowing they were going to talk about her the minute she left the room, she walked out.

  “Bryce?” she comm’d.

  “Hey!” He sounded happy to hear from her. “What’s up?”

  “Where are you? I want to talk.”

  “That sounds ominous,” he joked.

  Carina was silent.

  “Er…I’m attending to the bomb Mezban planted.”

  “I’ll be there soon.”

  ***

  Someone had figured out how to turn on the lights at the viewing dome. Carina stopped after walking into that high-vaulted place and looked up. The starscape was dim, outshone by artificial beams.

  Her mood settled a notch lower.

  “Over here,” Bryce called out, from the edge of the room.

  He was with a woman—an explosives expert, Carina guessed. He’d probably directed her to the location of the device and then stuck around to help out.

  That was so typical of him, always wanting to help, always sticking around.

  She walked over. The nondescript shapes and lumps she’d seen on her first visit to the chamber turned out to be lamps, seats, tables, and loungers. The place was set up for socializing. A party under the stars would be quite something.

  She passed a low table. Was this what she’d run blindly into after her visor was hit? Was that empty area beyond it where she’d landed and then shot Mezban’s man in the stomach when he arrived to finish her off?

  She walked on.

  “Everything okay?” Bryce asked when she reached him.