Then the ship slowly began to rise, and she forgot to breathe as the ground fell away. She was flying for the first time, and it was more beautiful than she could have imagined. The ground below stretched out as far as she could see in the pale light of dawn, and she watched as they rose higher, passed the top of the mountain, and then broke through some high, wispy clouds.
She waited in silent anticipation for the next part, where they would leave the planet. They continued to rise until the colors from the ground below began to fade and were eventually traded for the pitch-black of space.
The ship began to change directions, and rather than ascending, they began to go forward. She didn’t know how long she stood there before someone tapped her on the shoulder.
It was Mordjan.
“Let’s get you settled in at a computer,” he said gruffly, gesturing for her to follow him.
“Where are we going?” she asked as they exited the lab.
“Both computers in that lab are in use. I’m taking you to my lab.”
“You have a lab?”
“I do. We established labs when we searched for the cure for the Red Death.” He led the way down the corridor, and she tried not to watch his muscles work as he walked. Instead, she examined the blinking light at the back of his neck. What powers did he have?
She knew from healing other cyborgs that some had enhanced ocular abilities, physical abilities, and the ability to communicate over frequencies. But what else was there?
He stopped in front of a door and made a strange noise into a device to the left. The door opened with a click, and he ushered her inside. He cleared his throat. “The computer is over there on the left. Some of the technology from the Ardaks will blow your mind,” he said, leading her across the room. “Medicine, healing techniques, technology, things we’ve never explored.”
“How do you know?”
She approached the computer somewhat hesitantly as Mordjan turned it on.
“One of the few perks of being a cyborg. We can download the files quickly, and integrate the information at our leisure. But unfortunately, you will have to read them yourself.” He motioned for her to sit in a chair, and pulled up a stool to sit down beside her.
“Do you mean that if you download the files, you will automatically understand them?” She was curious about that ability.
“Hmmm. Not always. We’ll have access to the information, but if it’s in a foreign language or too far beyond our knowledge, we may not understand it.”
He flicked to a table of contents. Again, the language was strikingly similar to elvish.
“I believe this says weapons.” She pointed to a heading.
“Yes. But before you read any of these, you may want to brush up on your Ardak.” He paused. “And of course, that isn’t your area. Eventually, you’ll want the healing portion, which is several links below it.”
“I see.”
As he navigated to the language files, Fayelle didn’t bother to point out that she was just as interested in weapons as she was in healing. If she had time, she would examine the files on weapons and battle strategy on her own.
Mordjan went to another computer, leaving her to scroll through the language file as quickly as she could. It was helpful that other elves had already made notes of common differences. It really took only about an hour for her to learn the main differences between the languages.
Once she was satisfied, she switched back to the main menu and clicked the healing section. Then she began to read. For several hours, she was mesmerized by the knowledge. It was far too much for her to learn at once, so she started at the beginning and built her knowledge piece by piece. She was studying cell division when Simban came in.
“Find anything interesting?” he asked her.
“Too much,” she replied. “I could read this for the next several decades and still have more to uncover.”
“It’s true. Although, with your life span, you’ll probably have more of a chance to do that than most. The Ardaks have had thousands of scientists, high medics, and engineers working for centuries to build this knowledge base. It would probably be impossible for any one person to learn it all.” He paused. “But I came to ask if you were hungry. Irielle made enough packets of food to last a month.”
She took one of the packets. “Thank you. I could use a break.”
Simban tapped Mordjan on the shoulder and then waited for him to disconnect from the computer before he handed him a packet of food.
“Thank you.”
“Listen,” Simban said, “I think someone should take Fayelle down to the weapons room and show her how to use the Ardak weapons. I’ve already shown Borian and Nordan.”
“Of course,” Mordjan replied, and there was a slight gleam in his eye when he turned to her. “I believe you and I are overdue for a sparring session, aren’t we?”
“Brilliant.” Simban said, as Mordjan gave Fayelle a wolfish grin.
For a moment, she felt like a rabbit. Then she stood and brushed off her hands on her pants, gesturing for him to lead the way. Fayelle didn’t feeling like eating any longer, and it looked as if Mordjan was ready for his attitude adjustment sooner than she’d anticipated.
Chapter Five
Mordjan
He let out a long stream of mental curses as he started down the corridor to the weapons room. He knew she needed to see the weapons, but this was the first time in his long existence that he didn’t relish the idea of showing guns or swords.
Their attempt at sparring last time hadn’t gone well. Hell, it hadn’t even begun.
Since she’d walked away that day, he’d found himself more and more curious to find out if that had been a bluff or if she had skill. No matter what kind of magic she had, he hadn’t seen any elven warriors equal to his skills as a cyborg.
He wondered why Simban had made the suggestion. Did the other cyborg sense his attraction to her? Simban’s broken chip had made him more observant than others, a fact they had used to their advantage many times when they were hiding out in the mountain. It was just as likely that Simban had done it to tease Mordjan, though.
No matter the other cyborg’s reasons, Mordjan was still in the situation, so he would be nothing short of professional.
Normally, he would start with hand-to-hand combat and then graduate to swords. But he knew that hand-to-hand combat would be too close, too personal. She was beautiful, and he didn’t trust himself to be that close to her. So he would keep a nice distance between them, and no matter what, he would do what he could to prevent having to put his hands on her.
For better or worse, she was his partner for this mission, and how he treated her would factor into their successful completion of the mission in ways he could not anticipate.
They didn’t speak as they turned left into the corridor toward the weapons room and docking bay.
He’d always enjoyed sparring, but as they drew closer, he felt they should be playing the funeral drums because what should have been a fun, fulfilling exercise felt akin to a death march.
Was she also looking forward to the sparring with equal parts anticipation and trepidation?
They entered and he took in the room with a glance before turning to Fayelle and asking, “What do you fight with?”
She arched an eyebrow. “What would you prefer?”
He frowned. “This is not a joke.”
“I wasn’t being humorous. I can use a long sword, knives, bow and arrow, and, of course, magic.”
“I thought your main magic was earth magic. There’s no land in space.”
She made a noncommittal noise between a snort and a cough and said, “If I must choose, knives will work.”
He nodded in agreement. They could begin with her best weapon, he could beat her, and then he would build her confidence so they could fight as a team.
He went to the cabinets lining the left wall and pulled out four knives, giving her two and keeping two for himself, before nodding for her to mo
ve to the center of the room.
When he turned and motioned for her to attack, her stance almost seemed to tense a bit. “You want me to attack you?”
“That’s usually how this begins . . .”
Her growl cut him off, and she sprinted toward him. At the last moment, she went to her knees, sliding below his knives and going for his knees as she slid past him on the right.
He barely had time to block her knives from sinking into his kneecaps before he spun to meet her as she rose behind him. She was already on her feet.
Her knives went in short thrusts toward him, jabbing and stabbing, barely giving him time to defend himself.
Her speed and dexterity was impressive, and she was definitely using both to her full advantage.
He didn’t want to hurt her, but she was so quick that he finally had to kick her back with his boot just to give himself some space to block.
She turned around, literally running up the wall behind her and launching herself into a backflip so that she went over his head and landed behind him in a perfect crouch.
What the hell was that?
He froze for a moment, turning up his reflexes to 100 percent.
But the pause gave her time to get under his guard again and left him to fend off her knife thrusts once more.
Who is this elf and where did she learn to fight?
As she backed him up a few paces, he realized he was going to have to kick her back again.
This time, she was ready, and she used his thigh as a springboard and jumped up, landing on a crouch on his shoulders. When her knife kissed the skin on his throat, his knife was pressed against her abdomen.
He won, but just barely. Clearly, he’d been overconfident, which wasn’t something that happened very often. He narrowed his eyes, well aware that he had misjudged her.
Why did he feel like she’d been hiding this?
Chapter Six
Fayelle
Iwon!
Fayelle was elated for a brief moment until Mordjan nudged her in the abdomen with his knife.
She glanced down and realized that he would have gutted her as she slit his throat.
It was a draw. But she was happy with that, especially against a warrior such as Mordjan.
She jumped down, and he glared at her. “What the hell was that?”
“What was what?”
“Jumping off the walls?”
“Oh.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Older earth elves can do that. Our magic allows us to magnetize parts of our body. It’s rarely useful, but I thought I would try it since this part of the ship has the metal walls.”
He frowned and sat heavily on the bench by the weapons cabinet. “That will be a good skill to have in space. Are all of the Garthurian elves as good at fighting as you are?”
“Many are better,” she admitted. “Haven’t you worked with the others?”
“No. The first and only group who wanted to train with us walked out of the training area after two minutes. I wasn’t surprised that none of the others wanted to spar with us after that.”
“Elves have pride, too. And you were an asshole.”
He sighed. “You’re right, and I apologize. You have incredible skill, and it was unfair of me to assume otherwise.”
Taken aback by this abrupt change, she could only gape at him.
He raised his hands. “I don’t want you to get overconfident, though. When we first fought, I had my reflexes at only 75 percent, and I kicked you with only 50 percent power. If I’d been going at my full fighting ability, I probably could have killed you with the first kick.”
“But if we’d been going at our full fighting ability, I wouldn’t have let you kick me,” she pointed out.
He clenched the muscles in his jaw. “Look, the goal of this mission is to find ARF, not to fight. I want you to be aware that if it comes to us having to fight, I want you to assist in whatever way you can without engaging the enemy yourself.”
“Why?”
He looked startled. “What?”
“Why wouldn’t I engage the enemy? Assuming there is more than one.”
“Look, if you want to run headlong into a fight and get killed, fine. But I’m designed to fight, so why not let me do what I’m built to do?”
“If there is only one enemy, you can fight them first,” she said solemnly.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice dry. He turned to the weapons and pulled a ray gun out before handing it to her. “Let me tell you about the Ardak weapons. These ray guns are powered by the ship’s central crystal. They will work on the ship and within a certain distance from it, but are useless if you are a significant distance away.”
She turned the weapon in her hands.
He pointed to the various switches. “This one is the most important. This switch can be set to paralyze, which is up, or kill, which is down. Hold it up.” He showed her how to tuck it into her shoulder. “Once it’s secure, sight your target through the cross.”
She did so, and it appeared that the wall was right in front of her. The magnification would allow someone to shoot over greater distances. She hefted the weight of the weapon. “This is no small item to carry around.”
“Yes, but with its range, the benefit outweighs the cost of having one with you.”
He took the ray gun back and handed her a broad, flame-shaped sword. “This is an Ardak sword.” He indicated the switch, and she pressed it, jumping when the blade turned red.
“What does it do?”
“For starters, it will cut through this metal as if it were water.”
“Really?” She almost wanted to test it.
He must have seen the look on her face, because his lips quirked upward in the ghost of a grin. “When we’re off the ship, I’ll set up a place so you can test it out.”
She turned off the sword and handed it back to him.
There was a rigid but smooth efficiency to his movements as he put the sword back and picked up an explosive device. As he explained how it worked, his voice began to fade as she watched his hands, their long, thick fingers going over the workings of the explosive device.
When he tried to give the device to her, their hands touched.
Magic sparked and the tingle of it spread up her arm, bloomed in her chest, and then settled in her core.
She pulled back as if burned, staring at her hands.
It couldn’t be.
Her gaze went back to his hands, and suddenly she could imagine what they would feel like, caressing her as they did the weapon he held.
“Fayelle . . . Fayelle.” She heard his voice, distant due to the rush of magic that held her focus.
“Hey! Snap out of it.” He clenched his jaw and put the explosive device aside and rose from the bench. “We’re done here.”
“I’m—I’m sorry.” Part of her was sorry for not listening to him, but another part was in shock.
“No, I’m sorry. This was why I didn’t want to do this.”
She had been going after him but stopped in her tracks. “What do you mean? You didn’t want to come on the mission?”
“No, I didn’t want to spar with you. But I didn’t want to come on this mission either, for that matter.”
She ignored the part about the sparring. “Why not? This is the chance to meet with the resistance. To learn their technology, their techniques.”
He grunted. “If the ARF was that great, it would have defeated the Ardaks already.”
She thought about that for a moment because it was a line of logic she hadn’t considered. “Maybe there are too many Ardaks. But, still, imagine what they might know.”
He grimaced. “Look, Fayelle. They’re just another defense force. We don’t know what weapons or warriors they have, or whether they will even help us. All we know is that their resources are not ours, and the best chances anyone has in battle are to use the resources he controls. So, don’t think that they are going to save us.”
She examined his face. “I did
n’t say they would. They, like us, were probably unprepared for the Ardaks, but that doesn’t mean we can’t fight back now.”
He snorted. “You can think what you want—you have no idea what I’ve seen. I know our chances better than most.”
She smacked a hand on the bench to get his attention. “I was the lead healer when the Ardaks dropped the Red Dust. I had also spent centuries training my team—men and women of all ages. We were strong and our healing magic was powerful. Before the Ardaks released the Red Death, I thought that there was nothing my healers at Garthurian couldn’t cure. Even acute wounds were becoming less serious, our magic more exacting in the healing of tissue and bone.
“But the Red Death changed everything, forced me to exhaust all our resources looking for a cure. We didn’t sleep, didn’t eat, and didn’t do anything but search. Even though we found a way to slow the sickness, we didn’t find anything that would stop it. We exhausted all logic, employed different crystals, read back through the ancient texts. But the Red Death would have killed every single one of us, anyway.” She stared straight into his dark brown eyes. “Until some cyborgs from Siirti brought back the cure in an Ardak spaceship.”
She exhaled. “On that day, when I saw its healing power, I was forced to admit that their technology was a power I hadn’t seen before. Perhaps even stronger than magic.” She held up her hands, studying them. “Don’t you see? I always thought magic was the answer. If I had enough magic, I could cure anything. That magic was the greatest force in the universe. I was wrong. Technology saved us. Technology I didn’t even know existed. It didn’t matter how strong we were, how smart, or how much magic we had. The Ardaks had a weapon that we couldn’t fight.”
When she finished, he just stared at her for several seconds, probably processing everything she’d just said.
Did I get through to him?
She would never know, because he rose and strode from the room without another word. Her eyes dropped to her interlaced fingers, her knuckles white with tension.
Mordjan Page 3
