by Lili Zander
The hills are much further away. It takes me almost an hour by skimmer to get there. Herrix had said that the cave opening is on the western face, so I park the skimmer at the eastern base, and start to climb.
One of the advantages of mating with Draekons—I’m a lot stronger than I was back on Earth. My muscles are fitter, and I have a lot more energy. It’s some kind of side-effect of the mutation. I make my way up the steep hill without too much difficulty, and when I reach the top, I look around for the opening.
“Don’t worry.”
That voice—Belfox, if I’m not mistaken—had seemed to come from my feet. I freeze in place, and then put it together. The cave must have a skylight or some other kind of opening, carrying the sound of their voices to me. Red bushes are growing in thick clumps on the ground, and I can’t see anything, but I can hear just fine.
“Do you see me fretting about Olivia?” Belfox continues. He snorts. “As if I’m going to sully myself with a human mate. When we leave here, you’ll realize that it’s all for the best. There will be plenty of women to be had, women much worthier of you. Felicity will only hold you down.”
My blood runs cold. I wait for either of my mates to say something. Anything. Anything at all to prove that what Herrix said to me isn’t true.
“I don’t want to talk about Felicity,” Lud says flatly. “Let’s just get this check done.”
It feels like there’s a fist around my heart, squeezing it until it shatters. I thought my heart broke when Calder Reese picked Chloe over me, but this is so much worse. Xan and Lud are my mates. I thought they were in love with me. I thought we’d be together forever.
I can’t listen anymore. Tears spilling down my cheeks, I half-run, half-slide down the hill and make my way home.
Truth be told, I don’t know where home is anymore.
Lud told me he’d explain everything tonight, but I can’t face them. I can’t bear to hear them tell me it’s over.
I reach the outskirts of the camp and wipe the tears from my eyes. I need a plan. All I have to do is survive tonight. Tomorrow, they’ll be gone. Everyone will look at me with pity, and it will sting badly, but I can face the others. They don’t have the power to break me. They can’t shatter my heart, not the way Xan and Lud have.
A Draekon walks by—the always-silent Runnax—and I flag him down. “Could you find Dariux for me?” I beg him.
Runnax never has any questions. He nods silently and heads off in the direction of the clearing. A few minutes later, Dariux makes his way toward me. “What happened?” he demands when he sees my red-rimmed eyes.
“Please, Dariux,” I beg him. “I can’t go back home tonight. I need to hide. Can I stay with you? Not sexually,” I add hastily.
He rolls his eyes. “I’m well aware of that, Felicity,” he says dryly. “I’m not about to make an advance at a sobbing woman who’s obviously in love with her mates.” He gives me a long look. “If there’s a problem, you should talk to your mates. Whatever it is, it can be fixed.”
Not this time.
I don’t reply. His lips tighten. “Fine,” he says. “I’m staying at Bolox’s house. They won’t look for you there.”
I cry all night. In the morning, Dariux leaves to do whatever he’s doing, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything anymore. My mates have left the prison planet without me.
21
Xanthox
PAST…
Felicity’s gone.
Where can she be? People don’t wander off in camp; the detsena come out at dusk, and everyone’s usually home before that.
We look for her everywhere, our hearts in our mouths, frantic with worry. We wander up and down Lake Ang and Lake Tuli. We even shift and take to the skies, flying over the camp to see if we can spot our mate.
But it’s no use. She’s nowhere to be found.
Finally, when the first wave of detsena has swarmed over the ground, we run across Bryce McFarland, the human woman that our mate is somewhat friendly with. “Have you seen Felicity anywhere?” I demand. “She’s not at home. We’ve been looking for her all evening.”
She doesn’t meet my eyes. “Listen, I don’t like getting in the middle of your lovers’ tiff,” she mutters, sounding uncomfortable. “But yeah. Felicity’s fine. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“Why?” I don’t understand. We haven’t been around much in the last few days, it’s true, but I thought we were okay. This morning, Luddux had promised to explain everything. She’d seemed to accept it then. What in the name of Caeron has happened in the space of one day?
“I have no idea,” she replies. “I didn’t ask.”
“Bryce McFarland, please take her a message from us,” Luddux says, intensity radiating from him. “It’s very important that we talk to Felicity.”
“How the fuck did I end up playing go-between?” She sighs. “Fine. I’ll pass on the word.”
We wait and wait, and wait some more. The moons rise, shining bright, their light hiding the millions of stars in the sky.
The hours tick on. Night turns into day. The moons set; the sun rises, and there’s still no sign of her.
At some point, shortly after dawn, Belfox knocks on our door. “We have to go,” he says, his voice urgent. “This situation with the Firstborn is spiraling out of control. We’re running out of time.”
“Not yet,” I reply. There doesn’t seem much point in hiding the truth. It’s perfectly obvious why we aren’t moving. “Not without Felicity.”
“Bast,” he swears. “Forget your mate.”
“Never,” Luddux says flatly.
I don’t know where she is. I don’t know what we did wrong, and why she’s refusing to see us. But Luddux and I have always been united in this. If we go, she goes with us.
There are increasing signs of activity in the camp. People are walking to and fro, calling to each other. It sounds like Dariux is gearing up to make a speech. Maybe Felicity will be in the clearing?
She’s not there.
I barely register what Dariux is saying. Some half-baked plan to hold the Firstborn hostage. Does he not realize it doesn’t matter now? Without Felicity, I don’t care what happens to me.
Halfway through the speech, Luddux stiffens. I follow his gaze to see Herrix and Belfox slip away, shaking their heads at us.
It’s over. They’re going to leave without us, because they have to. We’re going to stay back, because we have to. And because of that, Luddux’s daughter is going to die.
The sun is almost setting again when the door opens and Felicity enters the house. By this time, both Luddux and I have consumed nearly a full bottle of aether. The room swims around us, and for a moment, I’m not sure if she’s really standing in the doorway, staring at us in shock, or if it’s all a figment of my imagination.
Luddux focuses blearily on her. “Where have you been?” he asks, his voice vibrating with anger.
“What are you doing here?” she responds carefully, staying frozen in the doorway.
He ignores her question. “I’ve never asked anything from you,” he says. “I asked for one thing. I told you I’d tell you everything. All you needed to do was listen.” His face twists bitterly. “But you weren’t here. I sent Bryce McFarland with a message. We begged you to talk to us. You never came.”
“So talk now,” she says quietly. “Tell me what you were going to say last night.”
“What’s the point?” he snarls. “It’s too late. You ruined everything, Felicity.”
He marches to the door, brushing past her without looking at her face, and goes down the ladder. I get to my feet to follow him. Luddux is in no condition to be alone. I need to get him to shelter before the detsena emerge.
“He’ll come around,” I tell Felicity as I pass her. “We’ll get past this.”
Except we never do. When I get Luddux back to the house, she’s gone again.
22
Felicity
PRESENT…
I tell them everything I kept hidden, and so do they, and when we’re done, I’m not ashamed to say I’m fighting the desire to burst into tears. Poor Lud. “You have a daughter?”
Lud nods, his face etched with misery. “I should have told you everything from the start,” he says. “But I abandoned her, Felicity. You told us once about your father. I thought…” His voice trails off.
“You thought I’d judge you for it?” My throat feels thick with tears. I take Lud’s hands in mine. “How could you think that? My father’s still alive. He’s in Los Angeles. He had a thousand ways of contacting me, but he never once did.” I lean against him. “You were exiled. Sent here to die, with no ability to contact anyone. What happened sucked, but it was not your fault.”
Something just occurs to me, and I breathe in sharply. “Oh my God,” I whisper in utter horror. “It was my fault. Had I been there that night... Had I not let Herrix sway me…” I gaze at them, my heart sinking in my stomach. They had come to find me, to tell me everything, to ask me to leave with them. And I, like a fool, had thought they were coming to say goodbye, and because I couldn’t bear to have my heart broken, I’d hidden in Bolox’s treehouse so they couldn’t find me.
I did this. Had we been able to leave with Belfox and Herrix, his daughter might have survived. “It’s my fault that she’s going to die,” I say out loud, my blood turning to ice. “Oh, Lud. Can you ever forgive me?”
He kisses the top of my hair. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he says quietly. “I don’t think Herrix ever planned on taking you. He had nothing but contempt for anyone who wasn’t Highborn.”
Xan nods. “He knew we wouldn’t leave without you, don’t you see? That’s why he came to see you. He thought that if he planted a wedge between us, we’d leave without you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“You are my life, Felicity,” Lud says simply. “You are my heart. I can’t live without you.”
I start to tear up. My poor mate. His daughter is dying, and he’s stuck here, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it.
“Can you at least tell her what happened?”
Xan shakes his head. “Belfox and Herrix took the communicator with them.”
Damn it. “What about the ship that crashed,” I ask, grasping at straws. “Was there another communicator there?”
“No,” Lud says heavily. “I asked Thrax to search the area. There’s one that might be fixable, but there are no spare parts here. Well, not any we can use.”
I look up, alerted by the change in tone. “What does that mean, not any we can use?”
He sighs. “Dariux is your friend,” he says. “I don’t want to affect your opinion of him. Thrax thinks that he can scavenge what he needs from the ThoughtVault.”
I stiffen. “And Dariux said no?” I’m going to kick his ass.
They exchange looks. “We didn’t ask.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. I jump to my feet. “Come on,” I tell them firmly. I might not fight for myself, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Lud go through this alone.
“You might not be able to save her,” I tell him. “But you can at least get a message to her.” I take a deep breath. So many nights, I wished for one message from my dad. One email, one phone call, one birthday card. Anything. Any sign that he remembered I existed. “Trust me,” I say softly. “It’s going to matter to her that her father cared.”
They know I’m choking back my tears, but they don’t try to tell me not to cry. They just hold me in their arms, and comfort me, and promise to be with me forever. And this time, there’s no doubt in my heart that they mean every word.
We’ve talked through the night. It’s dawn, and the sun is starting to rise, the sky slowly filling with light. Dariux is sitting on the bank of Lake Ang, staring into the distance. He looks up at our approach. “Do you have Zunix’s ThoughtVault with you?” I demand.
He takes in the three of us. “Technically, it’s my ThoughtVault now,” he replies. “But to answer your question, yes I do. Why?”
I cross my fingers behind my back. Come through for us, Dariux. We really need you to do the right thing now. “I need to scavenge parts from it.”
He raises his eyebrow. “Start at the beginning,” he says. “What’s going on?”
I give Lud a sidelong glance. I can’t tell Dariux about his daughter; that’s my mate’s secret, and if he wants to keep it, I won’t protest.
But to my surprise, he speaks up. “I need a communicator,” my mate says quietly. “My daughter is dying, and I want to send her a message before it’s too late.”
As if those words uncork a seal, the rest of the story comes pouring out. He tells Dariux everything. Receiving the note from the healer just before he tested positive for the mutation. Spending sixty-five years wishing he’d only checked his messages before he got into line. Herrix and Belfox’s offer, the latest note from the healer, telling him that Mar’vi’s dying. And finally, knowing that they’re gone and that he can do nothing to save his child.
“He should at least be able to explain, Dariux.” I gaze at him beseechingly. “She deserves to know the truth before she dies.”
Dariux looks puzzled. “The woman you slept with,” he says. “Did she not have family whose blood the healer can use?”
Lud shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know,” he says. “It was one night.”
“She died sixty-five years ago,” Xan says. “And it sounds like she moved around a lot, right? Luddux met her in Zydna, but she was on her way to Kraush. There are billions of people in the High Empire, and official records aren’t perfect. They get lost. Maybe the healer just couldn’t find them.”
“He can’t,” Dariux replies intently. “But I can.” A slow smile spreads across his face as he gets to his feet, “What I have is a sixty-five-year-old copy of the Spymaster’s own ThoughtVault. Surax spied on everybody. Let’s see if we can find your daughter’s family.”
23
Luddux
PRESENT…
I hold my breath as Dariux navigates the ThoughtVaults, searching work records in Zydna and Kraush, travel records between the two planets, skimmer registration records… everything. His hands move in a blur as he scans the information faster than I’d have thought possible.
“Got her,” he says in less than a knur. “Sola’vi und Thornox ab Degha. She was born in Maarish. Two sisters, one of them bonded, one brother.” He clicks his finger to close the screen and turns to me. “Your daughter has plenty of family, Luddux. There should be no shortage of people that can give her the blood she needs. Let’s go save her life.”
There’s a lump in my throat. “Thrax isn’t sure he can restore the communicator without permanently damaging the ThoughtVault,” I stammer. “Whatever you’ve been searching for…”
“Probably doesn’t exist.” His expression is defeated. “Maybe I was fooling myself. I was facing a lifetime in exile, and I just needed something to hold on to.” He heaves a long sigh. “I think I’m ready to give up. Like the Firstborn said, the most important thing for us to do right now is to find a place to hide.”
“What were you looking for?” Felicity asks.
He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter now. What’s important is Mar’vi. Let’s go to the Na’Lung camp and give Thrax the ThoughtVault so he can get the communicator working as quickly as possible.”
Thrax takes the ThoughtVault from Dariux, clearly surprised. “You know there’s no guarantee that the ThoughtVault will work again?” he asks.
“Luddux has warned me more than once,” Dariux replies wryly. “It’s a chance I’m willing to take. Do it.”
Thrax goes into his house. We wait in the dining hall, too tense to talk. I should have written to my daughter right away. Xanthox had told me to, but I’d been too stubborn to listen to him. I told him that I didn’t want to give her false hope.
And maybe a small part of me had also been afraid that Mar’vi would hate me. That she’d respond
with words of anger and reproach and blame me for what happened. A sentiment that I would understand only too well, because I blamed myself.
But Felicity hadn’t blamed me, and neither had Xanthox. They’d both seen what my guilt had prevented me from seeing. I was captured before I could go to my daughter. It was horrible, and I will regret it for the rest of my life, but the situation had been outside my control.
“Here.” Thrax’s voice startles me from my thoughts. He smiles widely as he hands me the communicator. “Works like a charm. Everyone’s going to be clamoring to use it, but I thought you should go first.”
“Use what?” Arax’s voice cuts into the conversation. He looks at what I’m holding, and his eyes widen. “Is that a communicator? Are you crazy? The entire Navy is patrolling the planet, looking for Raiht’vi, and you’re going to use tech?”
Bast. He’s right. If the signal is traced back to us, I’m putting everyone at risk. I can’t do that. I can’t risk the lives of everyone in this camp just to say goodbye to my daughter.
“Firstborn, if I may have a word?” Dariux says. He draws Arax out of earshot. The two men appear to have an urgent conversation, and then Dariux comes back. “One message,” he says. “The moment you send it, we turn off the comm. You can’t check for replies. Okay?”
I stare at the man. “Thank you, Dariux.”
He waves away my gratitude. “I didn’t do it for you,” he says. “I just hated to see my ThoughtVault wrecked for nothing.”
Felicity gives him a dry look. “Of course you did,” she says.
His lips turn up in a small smile. “Send your daughter the message, Luddux.”
24
Felicity
PRESENT…
