Within Ash and Stardust

by Chani Lynn Feener

  “And Trystan?” Delaney couldn’t help the rush of fear for the Zane.

  “Has proven to be a failure, more unworthy of being Zane than I imagined, let alone a king. And after this year’s events? I’ve imagined it quite a bit. If only I’d had another son, but of course, Trystan’s mother was too weak for that. Useless.”

  A growl came from the hall, and a second later Sanzie had twisted around on the ground to aim through the doorway, firing off a zee before anyone could react. It was aimed high enough that there was no chance it would accidentally hit Delaney. But pulling the trigger even that once with her injury seemed to take a lot out of the Sworn. She slumped back against the Basilissa’s legs almost immediately after.

  The shot caused the Rex to retreat a step, distracting him enough that the press of the fritz on Delaney’s forehead eased up.

  Without hesitation, she pulled back her elbow and jammed it into his side. The shock, more than anything, had his arm loosening around her waist, and she dropped to her knees just as his finger tightened around the trigger.

  She felt the burst of heat overhead, knew that she’d just barely avoided being shot. Not having the time to dwell on that fact, she forced herself into further action. Twisting onto her butt, she brought her feet together and kicked out, landing a blow to the Rex’s gut.

  He’d been about to aim for her again, but he ended up stumbling backward, the fritz suddenly pointed up at the ceiling.

  She leaped for him before he could regain his footing, shoving him so that he hit the wall with a resounding thud that sent the contents of a metal shelf clanking. She’d barely had enough time to position her finger over the trigger of her own weapon before he’d recovered.

  The Rex stretched out his leg and brought it around, knocking her off her feet. As she fell, he stood, turning so that his back was to her. He grabbed her left arm, pulling it over his shoulder, and then propelled her over him like she was a bag of flour.

  Her body slammed into the ground, with him still gripping her wrist, and in one swift motion, he twisted, pulling her shoulder from its socket.

  Delaney saw blinding white light, the pain excruciating, and might have even momentarily blacked out. When he let go, her arm dropped uselessly at her side, the burning made worse when she hit the ground, jarring the injury further. Unable to use the hand with the fritz, she panicked, quickly searching the room for any other kind of weapon as she forced herself to sit up and move away from the hovering Rex.

  He looked on as she did, clearly finding her a non-threat, taking his time reactivating his fritz and adjusting the settings.

  “I was really looking forward to having my son present to watch you die, Miss Grace.” He sighed heavily, like it was a real letdown that she’d ruined this for him. “But I suppose gifting him your corpse will have to do.”

  Suddenly Tilda was there, flinging herself at the Rex in a blur of motion, momentarily blocking Delaney’s body from his line of fire.

  It lasted only long enough for Delaney to struggle to her feet before she watched as the Basilissa’s body jolted and stilled.

  A second later Delaney’s good arm came up instinctually to catch Tilda as she stumbled back. They both dropped to the ground, her doing her best to keep the Basilissa from taking much of the impact.

  There was a wound at the center of Tilda’s abdomen, blood already leaking through the silky green material of her dress.

  “What did you do?” Delaney didn’t bother keeping the horror from her tone. Her uninjured arm was keeping the Basilissa in place against her chest, but she couldn’t even move the other to try to help stanch the blood flow.

  “I couldn’t save Olena.…” Tilda’s voice was weak, but the corner of her mouth turned up slightly. She let out a stuttered breath, and then the fingers over her wound noticeably relaxed a split second before her entire body did.

  Delaney blinked down in shock, her arm tightening around the Basilissa’s shoulders as if that might somehow help. It’d happened so fast, her mind was still racing to put all the pieces together. Because there was no way Tilda had just sacrificed herself in order to protect Delaney, a human.

  “She couldn’t save you, either.” The Rex’s sneer drew her attention from the deceased Basilissa. There were scratch marks down the right side of his face, huge welts already puffy and dripping crimson drops of blood. Unfortunately, he only seemed to be more pissed than he’d been a moment prior.

  As much as she didn’t want to, Delaney forced herself to prepare to abandon Tilda’s body, searching for anything she could use to defend herself. Her eyes landed on a silver bucket only a foot away, and before she could overthink, she grabbed it and spun around, tossing it at the Rex with all the strength she could muster.

  Which was arguably not much, but the object flying at his head caught him off guard enough for her to jump to her feet and dive behind one of the metal shelves. She pressed her good shoulder against it and shoved, watching as it toppled toward him.

  He noticed it too early for it to be a real threat, stepping out of the way so that it clattered uselessly to the ground.

  She’d gotten herself caught in a corner, with him and the fallen shelf blocking her path to the door. Stepping to the right brought her closer to the exit, but she’d still have to leap over the shelf, which would involve giving the Rex her back.

  So not happening.

  As her mind scrambled to come up with a way out, the Rex recovered from her pathetic attacks. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him raise his fritz, and by then it was already too late.

  The shot hit her in the right thigh, the momentum forcing her back against the wall for the millionth time that day alone. She barely felt the impact, however, too distracted by the searing pain caused by the zee. She’d never taken a direct hit before, and the sensation was excruciating, easily bringing her to her knees.

  Instinctually, her hand pressed against the wound, where blood was already starting to seep out of her.

  “Originally,” the Rex said, taking a menacing step closer, “I planned on making this quick, but after all the trouble you’ve caused, you no longer deserve that mercy.”

  The pain in her thigh was overshadowing the pain that still pulsed in her shoulder, and she desperately struggled to get her fingers working again. It was her only chance, activating her fritz and shooting him before he could get the kill shot off.

  “How dare you come here and think yourself worthy of my son,” he stated, and for once she was actually glad that he was so loquacious. He was completely unaware his berating was buying her time. “That you, a human, could undo my plans. Really, Miss Grace, you’re hardly that clever at all.”

  Finally her fingers twitched and she almost let a sound of joy slip past her lips. Her fritz appeared in her hand just as the Rex lifted his own, and she gritted her teeth against the pain and swung her arm around in front of her, pulling the trigger.

  She hadn’t had time to aim properly, so her shot ended up going through his left arm. The hit caused him to jerk, throwing him off by a few inches so that when he fired, the zee ended up missing her heart, his intended target.

  Not that it felt any better where it did land.

  The zee pierced her flesh, only a few centimeters from her dislocated shoulder. If she hadn’t already used the last of her energy trying to shoot him that one time, she certainly would have lost it all now. Her arm dropped and she sagged back against the wall, her vision blurring. She could just make out that the fingers pressed to her thigh were stained red, as was the front of her shirt over where the new zee wound was.

  She’d never suffered from blood loss before, but it wasn’t hard to figure that was what was happening to her now. Another thing that didn’t matter, because through her blurry vision she could make out the Rex furiously cursing her.

  His next move seemed to come in slow motion, giving her ample time to think about how stupid she’d been taking him on in the first place. And how much she didn’t reall
y regret it, not if it meant the others had enough time to get that damning video broadcast. As badly as she didn’t want to die, she’d rather he didn’t get away with all the horrible things he’d done.

  And at least her death would mean he’d no longer have anything to use against either Trystan or Ruckus.

  Thinking about them hurt in a different way, and her breath caught in her throat. She wished there was something else she could do, but she didn’t even have the energy left to open her fitting and send a message.

  After what felt like a week, the Rex had his fritz on her one final time, and she debated whether or not she wanted to close her eyes, look away. Stubbornly, she kept them open, and lifted her chin, ignoring how even that tiny motion sent her whole body screaming in agony. How he seemed to flicker in and out as she struggled to fight off unconsciousness.

  Yup, definitely suffering from blood loss.

  Which is why she thought she might be seeing things when another blurry figure suddenly appeared in the doorway. The world winked in and out, and when she was able to focus again, it was to find Trystan standing next to his father, a hand pressed against his side. She frowned, and it took her a moment to figure out that he was holding a knife there.

  CHAPTER 27

  Trystan had expected for them to be safe in the maze rooms, so Sanzie’s unconscious body in the middle of the hallway had sent him into a panic.

  When he’d rushed toward the room, and seen Delaney bleeding out, the fritz aimed at her head, he’d reacted without thought. The lizard-shaped knife came easily out of its hiding place in his boot, felt hot in his palm as he shifted it in his hold. One second he was in the doorway, and the next he had one hand wrapped around his father’s neck, the other gripping the knife he’d just buried in the Rex’s side.

  He’d just stabbed his father.

  He’d. Just. Stabbed. His father.

  Sure, he’d secretly fantasized about doing something just like this before, but that was all it’d been. A daydream. This was … He had to glance down at the handle, prove this was real, that it’d really happened.

  It was the Rex’s sudden movement that pulled him out of his shock.

  Trystan’s hand was still at his father’s neck, but that did nothing to stop the Rex from lifting the fritz. Realizing that the Rex was going to try to shoot Delaney again, despite the fact that there was a knife between his ribs, the Zane quickly adjusted their positions. The Rex ended up shooting the wall across from the door, with Trystan now safely blocking her from his father’s view.

  “Enough,” he growled when the Rex struggled to get loose.

  “‘The Crown before the Common,’” his father sneered, grabbing at Trystan’s elbow. He tried to shove his arm, and therefore the knife, away, but only managed to budge both a centimeter at best.

  It’d been a long time since either had bothered testing who was strongest. Since forcibly taking over had never seemed a legitimate solution in Trystan’s mind, he’d never considered who had more brute strength, especially when all his memories involved his father’s heavy hand.

  Now, however, he used all his energy to keep the knife buried, catching the Rex’s furious look. Trystan leaned forward so his father wouldn’t miss his next words. Wanting him to understand. For once.

  “She is my crown.”

  The Rex didn’t bother verbally replying to that. Instead he pulled his arm back, and it was easy enough for Trystan to figure out that he was going to turn the weapon on him now.

  Unceremoniously, he yanked the knife free of his father’s side, grabbing the Rex’s wrist so that he could redirect the fritz away from his head. That left his hand safely off his father’s neck, and without preamble, he drove the four-inch blade straight through it, directly beneath his jawline.

  Blood sprayed across Trystan’s face as the Rex jerked violently in his hold, but Trystan refused to let go. He couldn’t stop thinking about everything his father had done. He’d driven his mother to taking her own life. Had made his childhood a living hell—when he’d bothered paying attention to him. Tried to erase his memory, tried to murder the woman he loved.

  Turned that fritz on him.

  His father had never cared about anything but power, not the people he was sworn to protect, and certainly not his own flesh and blood. Growing up, he’d gone out of his way to make Trystan feel inferior. Like he was never smart enough, strong enough, dressed well enough. He’d spent his entire life tiptoeing around the Rex, pretending like he wasn’t a pawn when that’s exactly what he’d always been.

  He could see that now. It was in the way he couldn’t let a hair stay out of place longer than a heartbeat without feeling panic. In the way he used his size and his station to get what he wanted. The look he turned on people who tried to disobey him.

  How he believed, with no uncertain wavering, that he had the right to take Delaney from her home world simply because he was a Zane.

  Being the Rex’s son had almost cost him everything. But he was done.

  Trystan forced himself to meet his father’s frantic gaze, watched as the fury there turned to panic and then pure, undiluted fear. Watched as all of that was swept away, replaced with nothingness.

  He held on until the Rex’s gaze had dimmed, his body had gone lax, and the blood spurting from his neck had turned to just a trickle.

  Then, leaving the knife where it was, he let go.

  He let it all go.

  Someone was calling his name.

  Trystan’s father’s body was lying on the ground, motionless, and a numb feeling rushed through him. He took a moment, staring down at him, waiting for some kind of emotional reaction to flicker through the shock, but nothing came. When he heard the soft voice call for him again, he finally dragged his gaze away and over toward the sound.

  Delaney was pressed against the wall, one hand covering her thigh, the other unmoving at her side.

  He was kneeling next to her in a matter of seconds, reaching out to inspect her wounds. There was a significant amount of blood loss, but neither fritz shot seemed to be fatal, so long as they hurried and got her medical attention.

  “I need to get you to the med wing,” he told her, trying to figure out a way to lift her while causing her the least amount of pain.

  “Trystan,” she struggled to speak, “the Rex…”

  “I don’t care about the Rex.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop it. Save your strength.”

  “Should we just leave him?”

  “I don’t care.” And he really didn’t. The only thing that mattered was making sure she was all right, and she most certainly wasn’t currently.

  “And Tilda?”

  “I’m going to pick you up,” he told her. “It’s going to hurt.”

  She cried out when he lifted her, her head dropping against the curve of his shoulder. “Trystan—”

  Someone was running down the hall, their steps reaching them and cutting off whatever she’d been about to say. Holding her the way he was, Trystan wasn’t able to easily access his fritz, and he was in the process of figuring out how to put her back down gently when the Ander raced around the corner.

  The first thing he saw was Sanzie, and Ruckus dropped down next to her, the panic on his face apparent.

  “She’s all right,” Trystan reassured him, watching as he reached to check for a pulse.

  “It worked—” At the sound of Trystan’s voice, Ruckus finally turned to look into the room, blanching the second he noticed the blood on Delaney.

  Trystan tightened the grip around his Lissa. “Grab Sanzie. We have to get them to the med wing.”

  Surprisingly, Ruckus complied.

  * * *

  DELANEY WINCED AS she adjusted into a more comfortable sitting position on the bed. It’d been hours since the fight with the Rex, and her wounds had already been dealt with, but that didn’t stop them from hurting if she moved too suddenly.

  The doctors had applied some strange balm to
her fritz shots before securely wrapping them in bandages. No stitches or anything, which had admittedly worried her at first, before they’d explained their faster healing medications would work similarly on her human body as they did on theirs. Though the process might not be as swift, she was certainly no longer at risk of bleeding out.

  Considering that still meant she’d heal faster than she would have on Earth, she wasn’t complaining.

  “Easy.” Ruckus reached out to help steady her, slowly rising from his perch in the chair next to the bed. Aside from checking in on Sanzie once she’d woken up, he hadn’t left Delaney’s side.

  Neither had Trystan, who was currently blocking the doorway, having a heated conversation with someone she couldn’t see.

  The palace had been in complete chaos, everyone scrambling to deal with the aftermath of both the attack and the revelations about the Rex. Gibus had successfully hacked into all media stations, both in Vakar and Kint, and had broadcast the footage of Trystan’s father on a loop. It was still playing, even, but the news stations had regained control over their outlets and were now delivering the story themselves.

  Delaney hadn’t bothered watching any of it, though she’d been given the option. There was a screen set in the far wall, and the device looked a lot like a regular television back home, only completely clear. She didn’t have the energy to relive what had happened just yet, or, if she was being honest, to see the Rex’s face again so soon after witnessing him murder Tilda.

  Almost kill her …

  The voices at the door rose higher, and she tapped Ruckus on the arm as she watched the Zane take a threatening step forward, careful not to actually leave the room.

  “Tell him to just let them in,” she said. Whoever it was, clearly they weren’t going to take no for an answer, and really, she was already too exhausted from everything that had happened. There was so much she needed to sort through and deal with; wondering over who was in the hall wasn’t another thing she needed on her mind.

  “Are you sure?” Ruckus asked, and once she nodded, called, “Zane. It’s fine.”