"Whoop! Captain Kallistrate, you have points for style!"
I grinned as one of my fellow pilots came flying up beside me, taking out the other plane.
The princeling had gained some distance while I was losing his contingent of bodyguards, and I put on a burst of speed to follow him.
"Stand down. This one's mine."
Galian
After a while, with no sign of anyone tailing me, I slowed my plane and put my hand over my racing heart. Though I'd seen death before, I had never been so close to my own. I don't know why my brother was so eager to get out there.
I glanced behind me and saw I'd put a healthy distance between me and the battle. I had done as instructed, and when it seemed like they were targeting me, I had escaped. Like a weakling.
An alive weakling, my inner voice answered.
I reminded myself that I was royal, that I had a duty in case anything happened to Rhys.
But he was safe in Norose. So I really was a big chicken for flying away.
I was following orders.
Chicken.
"Damn it." I sighed, speaking aloud to quiet the internal bickering. There was nothing but static in my helmet now, a sign that I was too far away from the towers at Norose to hear what was going on.
"Hello? Anybody there?" I asked.
When no one responded, I slumped in my seat and banged my head against the headrest. I was still gliding over the blue ocean, heading north. I turned my ship to the west to head back to Norose—or at least get within range of the tower to get further directions.
What was my father going to say when he found out I'd turned tail and run? What would the soldiers think? Would they even be able to look at me?
"Rhys? Anybody?" I asked into the static.
Maybe Father wouldn't be too pissed at me; Rhys had told me to leave. I could always blame him. Rhys wasn't infallible, but he seemed to get away with a lot more than I ever could.
I sniffed at the irony. I was more afraid of my father than being blown out of the sky.
At least, I was until I saw a glint of metal in the distance.
"Hey, who's there?" I asked, my voice less shaky than before. Static answered me again.
I squinted at the ship I was about to encounter and my blood ran cold.
They'd found me.
Theo
I was Captain Theo Kallistrate, and I was going to kill a Kylaen royal.
He was coasting along a northwesterly path—no doubt trying to sneak back into Kylae without having to engage. What a coward, leaving behind his own troops. But I expected nothing more from that bloodline.
I smelled burning oil, but my engine temperature was still within normal range, so I figured I might have a leak. Nothing to be concerned about. I trusted my plane to keep me safe.
I aimed my guns and fired, bullets spraying from the nose toward the Kylaen ship. The princeling maneuvered out of the way and fired back, but his aim was atrocious. It was good to see him attempting to show some backbone. It would make killing him that much more satisfying.
He bolted north again, but I wasn't going to let him get away. Kylaen ships were fast, but so was my girl. He'd certainly been taught how to avoid being shot down, weaving right and left in the air.
The oil smell was getting stronger, but my sensors were still showing green on all counts, and I pressed forward. I didn't have infinite bullets, so I slowed my shooting to wait for a kill shot.
When it came, I didn't hesitate.
The engine smoked and the plane nosedived, headed toward a small, forested island rising out of the Madion Sea. I grinned in victory. There was no way he could survive a crash from that altitude.
Just as that thought floated through my head, a white parachute billowed out of the cockpit, and the princeling jumped out, hanging helplessly as the rest of his ship smashed nose-first onto the sandy beach of the island.
"No matter," I mumbled to myself, pulling out my gun again and opening the small emergency hatch. I squinted as I aimed.
The bullet left the barrel but missed as my ship shuddered. The smell of burning oil was more pronounced now and I pulled the gun back in, banging my hand on my dashboard in the process.
To my horror, it unstuck all of the dials which tilted to their correct readings, telling me one thing: my ship was seconds away from exploding.
"No matter," I said, willing myself to be brave. I was going to kill the princeling before that happened.
I aimed at him, still wafting down to the island. I sent up a prayer and—
The engine exploded.
Galian
I swiveled my head around when I heard the huge explosion behind me. The plane smoked as it careened down to the island, where it sounded with a large boom that scared away a few flocks of birds. I wasn't sure what had happened, but I was thankful that the bad guy was no longer trying to kill me.
I landed with a soft thump on the sandy beach a little ways from my plane, and immediately dropped to my knees, releasing a loud breath. My hands shook and my heart pounded, but I thanked my lucky stars that I was alive and had practiced parachuting out of my plane a few extra times during my training.
Once my pulse returned to normal, I stood and released myself from the parachute straps, leaving the long trail of lines and white parachute laid out on the beach. I approached the wreckage of my plane. Pieces of it lay in a long trail as it had skidded across the sand. I picked up a metal piece that had a bullet hole in it and then tossed it aside.
Besides the nose and engine being smashed to smithereens, the back of the plane was fine. I cracked open the back hatch and pawed through my emergency supplies. I found everything—including the medical bag Dr. Maitland gave me—to be intact. Again, I thanked whatever was up there looking out for me. Of all the outcomes that could've happened from the battle, crash-landing on an island with my supplies was better than most.
A burning smell reached my nose, and I stepped back, searching my plane for any sign of fire. Then I noticed the black column of smoke rising up from the treetops.
Despite everything, worry knotted in my chest. What had happened to the other pilot? I hadn't seen another parachute. Was he even still alive? He was my enemy, but still a fellow human being. I couldn't help but hear Dr. Maitland in my ear.
I don't have the luxury of differentiating between Kylaen and Raven patients.
"Fuck him, he shot me down," I snapped to myself. Served him right if he burnt to a crisp.
I turned my head to look at the southern horizon, scanning the open blue sky for a plane or anyone who'd followed me. I was sure they would be there before sundown.
I mean, after all, I was a damned prince. My father would have to send for me.
I hoped.
Besides, there was no way they could miss the black smoke rising from the center of the island.
Guilt gnawed at me. I looked down at the medical bag and sighed. Dr. Maitland was right—I was a doctor first and a warrior second. Shouldering my bag, I stumbled off the sandy beach onto the firmer forest ground.
The trees were tall and thick and everything around me was green. It was late summer, but there was definitely a chill in the air since I was so far north. I was thankful for my extra layer under my jumpsuit.
I walked into a clearing, covering my nose from the smell. One of the two wings had been shorn off in the crash and was the source of the black smoke. The rest of the plane was mashed and mangled some ways away. I saw the pilot in the cockpit through the shattered glass, and his helmeted head hung motionless. I was sure that he was dead. I couldn't see how anyone could have survived such a crash.
And then he moved.
THREE
Theo
I woke slowly, the sound of unfamiliar animals coming to me first, followed by a cold breeze. As I tried to move, pain shot up from every corner of my body. I looked up at the blue sky, barely visible through a thick canopy of trees. I smelled leaking fuel, and wondered if my ship would explode o
r if I'd bleed to death first.
I relaxed into my seat and prepared for the inevitable. Even if the Raven government sent a search party for me (which they wouldn't), I doubted they'd come in time to save my life. Still, I took some solace in the fact that I killed another son of that God-damned mass murdering king.
A noise startled me and I turned my head slowly to find the source.
I couldn't believe my eyes. The stupid princeling was alive and standing in front of my ship.
Fear and anger gripped at me. How was it possible that I was badly injured and he appeared to be walking just fine? I hated that the last thing I was going to see in this world was Prince Galian standing in a clearing, his pale skin flushed and his eyes sparkling with...amusement?
I was dying and this son of a bitch was laughing at me.
"What's so funny?" I snarled through my helmet.
"Serves you right." He was smirking as if he had something to smirk about.
"For what?"
"Shooting me down. Looks like you're in worse shape than I am, too."
"Go to hell."
He laughed again and hoisted himself up onto the broken nose of my plane. I was in too much pain to fight back, and my gun was nowhere to be found.
"Yep," he observed, with a smirk on his face. Up close, he was every bit as handsome as I'd seen in pictures. "You definitely got what you deserved. Shouldn't have shot at me."
"You shouldn't have invaded my country."
His eyes widened for a moment and I thought I'd finally done something to wipe that smile off his face. To my supreme annoyance, he tilted his head back and let out a throaty laugh.
"Oh, you are witty," he said, nodding. "And technically right. But it wasn't my decision. I was, as they say, just following orders."
"And I was just following orders when I blew your ass out of the sky."
"Aren't we at an impasse then?" He seemed to be enjoying this conversation. He looked down at the side of my ship and read the inscription. "Theo, huh? Well, you must be a pretty high ranking pilot then. I hear the Ravens only allow you to put your name on your ship after you've survived plenty of battles."
I moved out of anger, but the pain in my legs came roaring up my body. "Please let me die in peace," I asked, unable to look at him.
"Oh, you aren't going to die today. But it would probably be safer if I pulled you out. I don't like the look of that fuel leak."
He leaned into my small cabin. If I'd had half a mind, I could've snapped his neck, but it was hard enough just to breathe. He found my seat strap and unhooked it, then lifted me out by my arms. I couldn't help but scream.
"Yeow, buddy," he said, stopping. He put one hand over his ear and muttered. "You sure got a girly scream."
"My legs are caught. Just leave me here. I'm as good as dead anyway."
"Naw, then who am I going to talk to while I wait to get picked up?" He sounded like he was waiting for dinner. "C'mon, we can get you out of here. Just take a deep breath. One...two..."
I didn't hear him count to three as he yanked my legs out of the mess and I screamed again, the pain so bad I almost lost consciousness. But, blessedly, it subsided, and the next thing I knew, he was laying me on the ground.
"There, now, Theo of Raven, let's take a look at you," he said, taking my helmet off.
Galian
Theo was a girl.
A pretty girl.
I'd always thought Raven women were more interesting looking than Kylaen women—with their olive skin and black hair, they seemed to draw my attention. And this girl, something about her made my head spin.
Even with her mangled, bloody legs.
They were a sight: dark red staining her gray jumpsuit.
"Thank you, Dr. Maitland," I said, cracking open the bag he'd given me and sliding on the pair of latex gloves.
She murmured something. The amount of blood she'd lost was a real concern, and she was most likely concussed. I would worry about the head injury later; it wouldn't matter much if she died from blood loss.
"What are you doing?" she croaked.
"Pardon the invasion of privacy," I said, flashing her my trademark smile.
I unzipped her jumpsuit and pulled it down, exposing a white bra and underwear and nothing else. Immediately, her skin puckered with goosebumps as I tossed away the soaked dark gray suit.
"Are you still with me, Theo?"
She blinked, but didn't respond.
"Okay, I'm going to examine you now," I said, leaning over her bare legs. I pressed my hands to her hips, and she reacted, swiftly, sitting up so fast she nearly whacked her forehead to mine.
"Get your filthy hands off of me," she hissed, her breath touching my face.
"I'm a doctor."
"Bullshit."
"Seriously," I insisted. "You're bleeding very badly, and I need to find the source of it."
Her deep brown eyes stared into mine, her lip twisted in a snarl, but she removed her hands from my wrists. I explored the bloody patches on her bare legs. Most of them seemed to be small scrapes...until I brushed something on the underside of her leg, and she screamed in pain.
"Ah, there it is," I said, placing my hand on her hip to calm her down. The four-inch gash was deep, and probably nicked an artery in the leg, based on the amount of blood seeping out of it.
Gently, I rolled her onto her stomach and she didn't protest. I used nearly every antibacterial wipe in the bag to clean the wound, then fished out sutures and twine.
"This is going to hurt," I said, sliding the needle through the bottom of the wound. She sucked in a loud breath, and her knuckles went white. I worked quickly, using all the sutures in the bag to close up the wound. I wrapped it with gauze as tightly as possible, hoping that it would keep her alive until we were found and I could get her to Dr. Maitland.
I rolled her back onto her back. She'd gone pale and was mumbling to herself. I fished out the tube and rubber tourniquet that I'd seen in the bag and looked at her.
"Well, Theo," I smirked. "You're just lucky I'm everybody's type."
"What are you doing?" she mumbled.
"Transfusion." I wrapped the rubber band tight around my forearm. Tying the other band around her arm, I felt for a vein—she was so muscular, it took me no time, and I stuck in the needle connected to the tube. With care, I slid the other end into my own vein and released the tourniquet.
She watched, wordlessly, as the red blood flowed from my arm down into hers. I counted the rate of blood flow on my watch.
"Okay," I said, sitting back and shaking my foggy head after I disconnected our transfusion line. There was significant bruising starting on her other leg on the inner calf, and it was swollen enough to make me curious.
"I'm going to check your leg," I said, placing my hand between her legs.
She tensed, and her eyes flew open.
"Theo," I said, as professionally as I could. "I think your leg is broken. I'm just going to check it. I promise, I'm not going to hurt you."
She snarled at me, but I continued moving my hands down to her knees and lower to her calves. She sucked in air when I touched the bruised spot, and, based on the swelling, I knew that if her tibia wasn't broken, it was close to it. At the very least, she needed a brace. Hopefully, there was something to help me in the bag. So far, Dr. Maitland hadn't let me down. I dug around for a moment, pulling out more antiseptic wipes and gauze, until my hands fell on a small box with a glass vial inside.
"You are one lucky girl," I said, assembling the needle. "This is anesthesia. It'll numb the pain locally until I can set the bone."
"I don't want your Kylaen poison," she spat, to my utter shock.
"Really?" I gaped at her. "I just gave you a damn liter of my own blood, and you think I'm going to poison you?"
She said nothing but looked away. Still muttering to myself about Raven paranoia, I pulled the cap off the syringe and inserted it into the swollen nub on her leg. She hissed, but I held still as I finished administeri
ng the drug. After a moment, she relaxed.
"Pain won't go away fully, and that's all that I have," I said. I glanced at the syringe and tossed it into a nearby bush, as I didn't have a biohazard disposal box at the ready. Then again, from the looks of this island, Theo and I seemed to be the only ones on it.
I stood up and looked around for a pair of sticks that would be sturdy enough to keep her from doing any more damage. I found a couple of straight ones that would do the trick and returned to her. She had regained a little color, and seemed to be enjoying the anesthesia because she seemed more relaxed when I crouched next to her.
She stared at the sky with a stoic resolve that I kind of admired. This girl was a warrior, having seen her share of scrapes and bruises, based on the state of her arms and legs. I was no longer surprised that she'd survived the crash of her ship.
What did surprise me was what she said when I finished bandaging her up.
Theo
"Thank you," I whispered, hating myself for uttering those words to a Kylaen. But this man—the prince—had not only bandaged me, but he'd given me some of his own blood, something I was still trying to wrap my head around. He'd said he was a doctor, and he ministered like one, but no word of this had reached Rave.
Doctor or not, I still wasn't sure what his intentions were. Perhaps they thought me a valuable prisoner of war, one they could torture into telling them the Raven military's secrets. Well, they would be in for a rude awakening. As if the Raven generals would tell a kallistrate anything.
He had disappeared again once he had finished binding my legs, but returned with a box and warm blanket. I hadn't even realized I was shaking, but it made sense. The northern Madion islands could get cold even in the summer months, and with my injuries, I was beginning to feel it.
The Complete Madion War Trilogy Page 3
