Her Healing Warrior

by Roxie Ray

  “I do not care,” I lied. I shifted aside to move past Nion’s hand, but he stepped in front of me, matching my every move.

  “She has done you proud, Coplan,” Nion said gently. “She did it without tears, and with her head held high. No cowering. No screaming or fighting. You brought her here terrified and weak, but whatever you did to her—however you helped her—it worked. She faced her fate like a warrior. I think, thanks to you, you have made her into one.”

  “She was always a warrior at heart,” I told him. It did not make me feel any better, but I supposed it was a fine enough thing to know. I was proud of her, as much as it hurt me to admit it. “She only needed reminding of it.”

  “What do you think our next mission will be now?” I could tell that Nion was lingering for my benefit. It was kind of him. Perhaps, if my heart did not feel as though it had just been stomped beneath the heel of Idria’s boot, I would have thanked him for it.

  “There are still females to be rescued from the Rutharians,” I mused tonelessly. “There is to be an exclusive agreement between Earth and Lunaria as soon as Savii’s vows are completed for breeding slaves, which should put an end to these inter-species marriages and soothe the tensions between any humans we recover and the Lunarian nobility. I suppose we will recover any who remain…then, I suppose, we can retire. You to your fields, your wife, your children…me to my lands.”

  There was a snicker from behind us—a cold, cruel one. We turned to see Daran lurking in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and a sinister grin on his lips.

  “If that is all you are waiting for, why not retire now?” Daran shook his head and chuckled. “I have it on good authority that there will be no more of these useless rescue missions.”

  “And why not?” I barked at him. If we could not rescue the remaining females from the Rutharians, then what had Savii even given up her life for? “Idria agreed that there would be no more humans enslaved to the Rutharians. You were there, Daran. Were you not listening?”

  “Were you?” Tucking his hands behind his back, he strode close to me. Uncomfortably close. His black eyes glinted with spite. “Idria promised that there would be no more abducted. Those who are already enslaved…” He shrugged. “I suppose they will simply have to fend for themselves, won’t they? Perhaps they will be like your lady love, Coplan—from my observations, it almost seemed as though she enjoyed playing whore for—oof!”

  My fist connected with Daran’s throat before I knew what I was doing. By the time I realized I had hit him, my knee came up on instinct, knocking him in the gut while I threw a second punch that sent him crashing to the floor.

  “Coplan! Don’t let him get to you. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you!” Nion grabbed at my shoulder, but I wrenched it away before he could take hold.

  “Why?” I was on my knees with Daran’s black collar clenched tight in my fist in an instant. My brain was only half-calculating my moves now. I was mostly running on instinct. “Why is Idria allowing these women to remain with the Rutharians?”

  “Not very polite of you,” Daran spat at me. “I do not owe you anything, Coplan Majari. Nothing at all.”

  I hit him again, harder this time. I felt his jaw crack beneath my knuckles. If the blow hurt my hand as well, I was too enraged to feel it.

  “Tell me,” I snarled down at him. “Or by the time I’m done with you, you will be shitting your own teeth—and whatever else I can tear from your body as well.”

  “I would like to see you try,” Daran sneered.

  As it turned out, so would I. I drew my fist back again, aiming for his mouth to make good on my threat, but before I could, a bright blast of light shot past my face and scorched the floor, a mere inch away from Daran’s face.

  “Talk,” Nion said. He dropped to his knees beside me and shoved the still-hot tip of the blaster against Daran’s temple. “Or the next one will go through your skull.”

  For a moment, I thought perhaps Daran would test Nion’s patience with another rude quip—but when a sigh of resignation left Daran’s lips, I knew that he knew he was beaten.

  He had become so arrogant in the way Idria had defeated Savii’s defiance, he had overstepped himself and finally pushed us too far.

  “The new Rutharian king has been crowned,” Daran said, as though it was nothing more than a piece of courtly gossip. “And he has chosen his queen.”

  “Not Savii. That…that cannot be.” My heart nearly stopped at the thought. Idria was a known liar, and Daran would not have been telling us this if it was not relevant to what we wanted to know. Not with a blaster to his head, at any rate.

  My fist moved to Daran’s throat, clenching hard enough to choke.

  Had we truly rescued Savii from the Rutharians, only to hand her back over to them all over again?

  “Do not be ridiculous,” Daran wheezed. “Not Savii…Idria. She will allow them to keep their existing humans as her dowry and cut them in on the agreement with Earth as well to unite our peoples. Rutharians, humans, and Lunarians, all together. All working as one.” Even as I choked him, his eyes glinted terribly. “And there is nothing you can do to stop them.”

  I looked to Nion in a panic. “Savii has no idea.”

  “No,” Nion agreed. “Which means we must stop her marriage. As soon as she says her vows—”

  “She will not have saved her race. She will have doomed them—and Lunaria along with them.”

  “Did you not hear me?” Daran hissed. “You cannot stop this. Your female is gone, Coplan. The plan is already in motion. It is too—”

  Nion’s blaster fired before Daran could finish his sentence. I did not blame him. Had Nion not done the deed, I would have taken the blaster and done it for him. It was an act of treason to kill another Lunarian—but it was a greater act of treason to betray our people like Idria and her specters were planning.

  And there was nothing illegal about killing a traitor.

  “We need to find Kloran and Haelian,” Nion said as he rose. “Savii cannot be allowed to go through with this marriage.”

  “Agreed.” I was already on my feet, bounding toward the door. “And we must hurry. Before it is too late.”

  21

  Savannah

  I spent the day on my future husband’s arm, meeting people whose names I would never remember and forcing a smile that would never be real.

  Urthal hadn’t even smiled when he first saw me. He’d only licked his lips and nodded. That was it. Daran had handed me off to him immediately after, and my fate was sealed.

  Could I really marry this man? I asked myself that question over and over again as the day wore on. Our wedding was meant to be a quick one, done before the day was over. The way the capital was prepared for us, with flowers and joyous crowds, it felt like it had been in the works for a long, long time. Urthal didn’t speak to me for the entire day, though, so there was no way of really telling what kind of person he was or how this marriage would even work. He only grunted and pointed me where he wanted me to stand next, or, if I wasn’t fast enough, he’d haul me along by the elbow and place me there himself.

  I supposed that spoke louder than anything else he could have said to me. I wasn’t a person to him. I wasn’t someone to be talked to, or even someone whose quiet company was meant to be enjoyed.

  After all the work Coplan had done making me feel otherwise, here I was, an object all over again.

  When Urthal finally handed me off to a group of servants at the palace, I was exhausted but relieved. They stripped me of my clothes, bathed me, and redressed me in a billowing black skirt and a tight bodice that showed my stomach and what little cleavage I’d developed while Coplan had helped me put on weight. As they did my hair, another servant came by with a platter laden with small treats, some of which I recognized from my time aboard the Avant Lupinia, which was another relief. I hadn’t had time to eat all day. I’d barely been given water to drink. My stomach rumbled, even as I felt the anxious nausea of
my impending vows overtake my hunger.

  I needed to eat. After going so long without food, I didn’t want to waste an opportunity to put a little in my body before I was thrown back into the fray of nobles and politicians again.

  But when I reached for a berry on the plate, the many-tentacled alien servant who had been winding my hair into curls and piling them on top of my head slapped my hand with the tips of one of her slick, smooth arms and swatted me away.

  “No. Not for you,” she said in a gelatinous voice, even though I was struggling to figure out where her mouth even was. “Do not want to get fat on your wedding day.”

  I sighed.

  After all I’d been through, I was right back where I’d started. Controlled, primped, paraded around and denied my right to eat. I supposed all of the curves I’d been starting to develop while I’d been with Coplan would waste away soon if this kept up.

  He’d tried so hard for me, but in the end, maybe I just wasn’t capable of saving. I’d been treated like this for my entire life. No matter how hard I fought against the universe, I could never really escape it.

  This was just the way things had to be.

  As I was guided through a set of hallways in the palace, accompanied by yet another servant, I tried to look on the bright side. I really did. No more women from Earth would be abducted by the Rutharians. Coplan and everyone else aboard his ship would save the rest. No one would have to go through what I’d gone through ever again. And maybe—maybe Idria was right. If the sectors played by the rules and the surrogate mothers—I couldn’t bring myself to think of them as slaves—from Earth would be able to make better lives for themselves after they’d completed their contracts.

  Maybe I was still helping change things. I’d be married to a man who only seemed to grunt and stare at me, and I’d never be able to be with Coplan again…

  But Earth would be safe. Atlanta would be safe. My sacrifice still meant something. If giving up my own happiness was what it took, then so be it.

  The thing that really broke my heart was what this was all doing to Coplan. At least I’d been given the illusion of a choice. He’d had no choice in this at all. Ever. It wasn’t fair to him, that my sacrifice had to be his too…but there was nothing to be done about it. We hadn’t chosen our lives. We hadn’t meant to fall in love—or, well, whatever this broken feeling in my chest was. We’d never said it to each other, not properly. There hadn’t been time, and even if there had been, it might have hurt more than it helped.

  Maybe neither of us had ever really had a choice in any of this at all.

  “Here. Take picture. Write. Post.”

  My servant handed me a small, circular device with a brightly lit screen as we came to a set of huge, foreboding-looking doors at the end of a long hall. Somehow, I knew that my husband was waiting for me somewhere behind them, and half of Lunaria as well.

  I turned the device over in my hands. The language which the screen was set to took a few seconds for my translator chip to process. When it did, I recognized everything immediately.

  This was my social media account, the master one that I managed all of my platforms with. I didn’t know how this servant—or more likely, Lady Idria—had gotten my username or my password, but I guessed in the grand scheme of things, it was hardly the most invasive thing that had been done to me today.

  “You want me to post something? What?” I asked.

  The servant shrugged. “Take picture. Write. Release. For other humans to see. Want them to think kindly of breeding slave program. Lady Idria says.”

  “You want…oh.”

  It took a second for me to figure it out, but now that I had a better idea of what Idria’s actual plans for me had been all along, I guessed it made sense. I was supposed to take a picture of myself to upload—though I had no idea how this thing would even connect to Earth’s internet from so far away. I guessed the post was probably meant to encourage other women to sign up to become surrogates…but it seemed too deceptive for me to go along with, even after so many years of sharing propaganda for the sectors. If I took a picture of myself now, it would make it look like every woman who entered the program would be dressed up in an exotic gown and covered in jewels—and I knew better than that. They’d become surrogate mothers, not brides.

  But with the servant’s huge, glowing eyes staring me down, how could I possibly avoid doing what she asked?

  I took the picture quickly. The little gadget wasn’t so different from my phone back on Earth, once I’d fumbled with it for a few moments. I made sure that nothing of me was actually in the shot, though. I focused the camera over my shoulder to the background. The photo would be nothing but an ornately gilded wall.

  Pretending to post it was a little bit more of a gamble, though. I didn’t know how well this servant even understood Idria’s orders. She sounded like she was parroting them to me. Would she realize that, even though I tapped away on the device’s surface, I wasn’t actually uploading anything?

  I hoped not—and for once, I hoped right. When I handed the device back to the servant, she pocketed it in her shift without even looking at it.

  “Very good. Now go,” the servant ordered me, pointing me through the doors.

  I took a deep breath, then took a step toward them. They swung open as I approached, like magic. Something out of a fairy tale. The beautiful cathedral behind them was equally picturesque. It dripped with flowers in full bloom across its every surface. The last rays of sunset flooded in through gorgeous tinted-glass windows on either side of the room, which was crowded with people. There were pleasant gasps and smiles all around from the wedding guests when I stepped forward, which immediately made me nervous. Suddenly, I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I might not have wanted to go through with this wedding, but the least they could have done was given me a bouquet. As I walked down the aisle toward Urthal, who stood before a stone altar looking dour as ever, I didn’t feel like I was heading toward wedded bliss. I felt like I was a criminal, walking myself to my own execution.

  In a way, I supposed I was.

  Savannah Tremaine had died in her dark, cold little cell in the Rutharian base. When Coplan rescued me, he’d had to help me create myself anew. He’d given me a new name—Savii. New friends. A new life.

  He’d given me his protection. His body. His care. And his love, too—even if we hadn’t said it. Even if we never would.

  Now, it was time to kill off Savii too. I didn’t know if anything about me would be left when I was finished saying my vows. I wasn’t expecting much. I’d be Lady Brixta then, I guessed. Property of Lady Idria’s house. Property of my new husband.

  It was probably for the best. If I couldn’t have agency, or love, or even affection—if I couldn’t have Coplan—then I didn’t have any need to be anyone at all anymore.

  As I moved through the partition in the crowd toward Urthal, I felt the light shine down on my face and clenched my fists at my sides. I held my head high, even though all I wanted to do was run and hide.

  I’d make this sacrifice with dignity. I’d say goodbye to Savii, to happiness, to the life I’d only hoped to have in my wildest dreams. The life Idria and her evil plans were tearing away from me today.

  I’d do it with the memories of Coplan’s kisses on my lips, his hands on my waist and the ghost of his voice purring in my ear—Savii. Savii. Savii—and no matter what, I wouldn’t cry.

  Even if I wanted to.

  I would not cry.

  Savii. If I let my eyes unfocus, I could still remember the way he’d looked at me as he placed his pendant into my hand. Like I was something precious. Someone who deserved to own something beautiful, even if it was the only beautiful thing he had to give.

  Savii. The way he’d moaned my name when he came inside me for the first time. That one made something in my core pang painfully. I knew, no matter what Urthal wanted to do with me after our wedding, I’d never make love to anyone like that ever again.

  Sav
ii. The look on Coplan’s face the last time I’d stared into his eyes, his rage-red irises turning to sad gray in an instant as he realized that he wouldn’t even be allowed to kiss me goodbye.

  Savii. Savii. Savii. Perhaps we will meet again in another world. Another life.

  Damn him. Even when he couldn’t touch me, couldn’t embrace me, couldn’t press his lips to mine, he’d given me something beautiful to hold onto one last time.

  “Savii!”

  I blinked, startled out of my memories in an instant. It was almost eerie, how real that had sounded. I missed him so much, it was like he was…like he was really here.

  Stupid. I clenched my jaw and kept walking. Coplan was back on the Avant Lupinia with everyone else I’d come to care for there. There was no way Idria would have allowed anyone on the ship to come to this wedding. Leonix, Gallix, Ronan—even Haelian and Kloran and Healer Adskow. I’d probably never see any of them ever again either—or at least, if I did, there was no way I’d be allowed to talk to them. Here, people called me Savannah, or Sah-vahn-nah, or nothing at all.

  I’d never hear Coplan, or anyone else, call me Savii again.

  But then, a ripple of confusion blustered through the crowd—and I did hear it again.

  “Savii!” a voice shouted, distant but even louder than before.

  And this time, I wasn’t the only one who heard it. Even Urthal looked startled and bewildered as he glanced around wildly, trying to see where the noise had come from.

  I stopped dead in my tracks. Something was going on. Something bad, probably—or, maybe, if I was very lucky…

  Maybe something good for a change.

  “Savii! GET DOWN!”

  I only had a second to act before it happened. Luckily, I didn’t hesitate.

  I threw myself to the floor immediately. Instinctively, I covered my head with my arms and the back of my neck with my hands.

  As soon as I hit the floor, the tinted windows of the cathedral shattered in simultaneous bursts of broken glass and radiant light.