by Ciara Knight
How many were lost?
I don’t have a count yet, my father said. It could’ve been worse. The bomb disposal teams disarmed the remaining bombs, including the one set to blow in the orphanage.
How did you know?
The first clue was his screaming that all the children of parasites must die.
Ryder lowered his head and pressed his lips next to my ear. “If you hadn’t closed those blast doors—” He closed his eyes and inhaled. “You saved us.”
No matter how he spun it. I’d shut those doors, any loss was on me, but for now, the last thing I could afford was an emotional meltdown. Helping with rescue efforts had to be my sole focus.
Father nudged me again.
Where do you need help the most? I asked.
The landing bay and weaponry. A bomb in fuel storage exploded. They’re battling an out-of-control blaze. If it isn’t stopped, we’ll lose every ship that’s docked. If it spreads to the weaponry, it’ll heat the volatile chemicals and we may lose the Arc.
Got it. I’m on my way.
Ryder touched my shoulder. “What’s going on?”
I swiveled to him. “I’m heading down to assist. There’s an out-of-control fire threatening the Arc.”
He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ticked. “Be careful. I’ll join you as soon as Laos is settled.”
I brushed his cheek with the back of my fingers. “Be safe. See you soon.” Pivoting, I headed for the stairs. Over the past months, I’d learned to deal with the things that happened in war, horrible things that we regretted or questioned. But until the job was finished, you had to shove it into that corner of your mind where you put nightmares and continue forward. I’d gotten good at it, too. Until the quiet dark of night. It was then, as I lay in bed, that the terror and death haunted me.
Are Raeth and Penton okay? I asked my father.
Yes, but not for long. Unless weaponry is moved a safe distance from the fire, we’ll lose them and everyone else. With the fuel depot fully engulfed, the entire Arc structure and everyone in it is at risk.
Understood. If we lost the Arc, the rebellion ceased. The traitor’s placement of his explosives was brilliant.
Fifteen minutes later, I backtracked, trying another path. Access into the underground area that housed weaponry was blocked. Not surprising, it’d received the worst damage. I reassured myself that at least the com system still operated, so I’d be able to contact Penton and Raeth.
As I moved through another corridor crowded with rescuers and the injured, an old lady on a stretcher cried, “The queen’s killing us all.”
She was right. Not that I’d admit it aloud. Instead, I knelt beside her and clasped her hand in mine. “No. Our home isn’t destroyed, only damaged. She won’t stop us. We’ll rebuild as we always have.”
She drew my hand to her mouth and kissed it. “Bless you, child.”
With a reassuring nod, I stood and moved further into the devastated underground. Stumbling over rubble, I managed to find the stairwell. For two floors, I crawled over wreckage until I reached an opening where the door to the maintenance bay should be. I crept closer. The hole in the wall opened to an abyss. The floor, the entire section didn’t exist, and below it roared an inferno.
From the corner of my eye, I caught a beam of light a few steps below me. “This level’s compromised. No one’s allowed down here. Report top side,” the guard said in a gruff voice. As I faced him, his light blinded me momentarily. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was you, Corporal Bellator. Here’s your torch. Be careful, one wrong step and—”
“Understood.”
It wasn’t hearing my rank that unsettled me. After all, as the Triune, all three of us carried the same status, as did Penton, the rebellion’s Weapons Master. No, it was hearing my father’s last name attached to me. Before escaping Mandesa, I’d always been referred to as Princess Semara or by Mandesa’s family name, Valderak, which was also my mother’s maiden name. Silly really to be bothered by my last name, but it was one more change in a long line to get used to.
I struggled down another flight, shimming along the wall to avoid exposed wires. Metal, chemicals, and ozone saturated the air. As I neared the weaponry level, I saw numerous broken bodies. They reminded me of dolls, their limbs missing, and… I recognized so many of them. They’d become friends, family. I’d seen them every day as they walked through the halls or stopped by to talk with Ryder as he’d recovered.
I scrubbed my face of all evidence of tears, while wishing I could erase the nightmare sight from my mind, and stepped out onto the weaponry level. As I moved into the passageway, I gasped, feeling as if I’d entered a blast furnace.
“Raeth, get out of here, now. You can’t stay,” Penton yelled from somewhere toward the back.
I continued forward. The stink of desperation overpowered the smoky odor of burning plastic and metal. Flames licked up the walls, ignoring the fire-retardant foam and water cannons four soldiers were using in a vain attempt to keep the fire at bay. Others raced toward me, carrying equipment and Penton’s inventions from weaponry.
“You have to go, Raeth, now,” Penton urged. “I’ll make it. I promise.”
“No. We’ll make it together. Stop arguing and start working.”
I halted in the doorway. Instantly, my hereditary Neumarian soldier merged with the emotionless Kantian influence of my youth. No arguing, just give orders and make things happen. “Raeth, Penton’s right. Your leg will melt, making you a deadly hindrance. Get going.” Turning, I faced Penton. “What can’t be replaced?”
Penton pointed to shelves on the far wall. “Those canisters.”
I snagged as many as I could carry and hotfooted it to the storage bay.
Raeth, her back also loaded with canisters, passed me, running, actually running on her new leg. At the sight, an unexpected smile broke free.
“We’re out,” I called. “Evacuate. Fire’ll reach the solvent in five. Seal off the corridor.”
Raeth paused by the men at the door, set her containers at her feet, and stretched her arms out, her palms facing the fire. The flames dulled slightly, held then flared.
“You can’t alter it. You’ve tried. It’s a chemically-fed fire, not a burning bush.” Penton tugged her further back from the threatening flames.
I kicked Raeth’s canisters into the hall and charged after them, just ahead of the fiery hell racing to envelope us from behind.
Penton raked his fingers through his hair as the seemingly intelligent flames advanced upon his lab. “We’ll lose all my research.”
Raeth glared at him. “Better than your life.”
“You don’t understand. The research will save the Triune. It’s what I was meant to do. I won’t fail.”
Memory of what Fallon had told me crept in. Was he really going to sacrifice himself? A friend dying for us? No. I wouldn’t let that happen, and neither would Raeth, evident by her arms around his waist, shoving him backward toward the stairwell.
“Penton, you’re not just a weapons genius, but one with chemicals as well. So, fix this,” I urged. “Make something that will suffocate the fire.”
Penton’s palm smacked his forehead, his aggressive, non-communicative stare morphing into action. He fumbled with the canisters in his lab and mixed several ingredients together. “I can’t put out the fire, but perhaps I can have it implode on itself. Sort of burn out instantly.”
“Won’t that blow the lab?” I asked.
“No. If I do it right, the effects will only be felt a few meters past the fire, and if we close the doors, it should save the weaponry.
“How are you going to spread it and close the doors at the same time?” Eyes narrowed, I met his gaze. I needed to see his eyes to ensure he told the truth. “You’re not dying on my watch. Raeth’ll never forgive me.”
“S-Semara’s right. I w-won’t.” Erect, Raeth stood tall and proud. She no longer hid her strength behind hunched shoulders and a downcast face. Nope, this girl
was a force to be reckoned with.
I bit back a smirk. Penton had no idea the power he’d unleashed upon the world when he’d given her that leg.
“Perhaps I can use one of the mist bombs, but you’ll both have to leave. I’ll have to open the canister. It’s proved to be non-lethal to humans, but not Neumarians. In its concentrated form, it’ll destroy your gifts for good.” Penton opened a container full of grenade-looking canisters then glanced back at us. “The longer you stay here the less chance I’ll have of making it out of here alive.” Penton set his jaw in a way that reminded me of Ryder. Were all men born with that distinctive hardheaded stare?
“Raeth, he’ll make it. Penton always does. That’s his gift.”
“Trust me.” His words cut through Raeth and her crossed arms fell to her sides.
“I do.” With grace, she turned toward the hall, her movements graceful like a dancer, and raced for the doorway. At the threshold, she glanced back. “Don’t you dare die on me when I can finally keep up with you, Penton.”
My gaze scanned the three men with us. “You two,” I said, pointing, “with us. Sergeant, you’re human. Stay and help Penton.”
With the hellhole at our backs, the two men and I bolted for the hall and safety, such as it was, I thought as sweat-saturated clothing weighed me down. Forget the mist grenades, I had seconds to make it to cover before I was well done.
As we joined Raeth, I saw her flinch at the sound of the door to weaponry clank shut, sealing Penton and the sergeant in.
“I-I love him. More th-than anything. He’s m-my savior. My heart. I c-can’t lose him.”
“I know.” With my arm around her shoulders, I nudged her down the corridor and further from the heat to the storage room where others worked on stacking the supplies we’d rescued from the lab.
“Seal off the hall to the weaponry and evacuate above and below. This isn’t going to be pretty,” a captain ordered.
Raeth gasped. “What do you mean seal it off?”
His eyes widened. He took a step back, the soldier obviously hesitant to give bad news to the legendary girl with the excessive power. “We need to lower the blast shield and seal off the area.” He motioned someone over to the controls.
Raeth lunged to block the man’s path. “You c-can’t. Penton won’t make it out.”
“If we don’t seal it and Penton fails then we’ll all be dead.”
“S-Semara, we c-can’t let them.”
He’ll die to save the Triune. Fallon’s words echoed in my head. Was it really Penton’s destiny? No, I rejected the prophesy. My mother was wrong. Penton wouldn’t die. The Triune was supposed to save the world, and if Raeth lost Penton, she wouldn’t survive. But if I was wrong, I’d be sealing Penton and the fate of the Triune to a fiery grave. My heart ached as I met Raeth’s horrified gaze. “The captain’s right, Raeth. Penton will either succeed and therefore survive or he’ll fail. But if we don’t shut the blast doors, we’ll all join him, thereby destroying the Triune.”
Raeth’s glare of contempt-laced hatred speared my soul. My best friend, confidant, and sister to my fiancé looked ready to grab her blaster and shoot me dead. Not even when I was twelve and didn’t stop Mandesa from taking her leg had she stared at me as if wishing me to drop dead.
Everything in me demanded I rush back and force Penton to flee, but I couldn’t. Penton and the captain were right. Struggling to control my tremors, I forced myself to hold firm.
I hit the blast door button and watched it slide shut.
Chapter Twelve
What have I done? my heart and mind cried out.
You’re a leader, who made the necessary decision that kept causalities at a minimum.
Briggs died because I didn’t use my gift correctly. I should’ve melted all metal on the bomber.
You haven’t been in close-quarters combat and used your gift, Semara. With time, your choices and reactions will become automatic, and Briggs is critical, not dead. She managed to duck behind some cabinets and other debris covered her body. Casualties are not as high as our original estimates.
Thank goodness. A little hint of hope filled me, but was quickly squashed. But that doesn’t change the fact I’ve just sentenced Penton to a horrific death if he fails, and based upon Mother’s prophesy, he’ll die.
The funny thing about seers, they see things based on past and current events, plus probability. But should one event be altered, so too is the future outcome.
What do you mean?
You found Penton outside Acadia. He chose to come with you and in the process has discovered a love and gift for weaponry. I suspect when Lanena made her prediction, she didn’t see Penton because he wasn’t in the picture yet. Besides, the person she foresaw had no experience or inclination toward weapon development. That’s why I believe Penton wasn’t the individual seen. Even through our telepathic conversation, I heard the pain in my father’s voice as he said my mother’s name.
But whoever it is, will be someone who’s important to me?
Yes.
A spark of hope ignited in my core and I took Raeth’s hand. “I just spoke with my father. Penton will be okay.”
The anger faded from her gaze and she forced a grin. “I know. He’s Penton. But I don’t like taking any ch-chances. He’s perfect. Look.” She showed off her leg once more. “He made th-this for me. No one even looks at my implanted leg anymore. It’s flesh t-tone, shimmery, and pretty, not bulky and metal. I hated th-that leg. I would’ve torn it off years ago if I had any other choice.”
“You never complained,” I whispered as the acid of my guilt inched up my throat. “I didn’t know you hated it that much.”
“One doesn’t whine or c-complain when you have Ryder Arteres as your brother. He took c-care of me and raised me to be tough. I owe him a lot.”
I squeezed her hand in reassurance. “We all do, and now you have Penton.”
Around us, the floor and walls shook for several seconds, rattling the cabinets and shelves, then settled.
Raeth’s brows narrowed, creating furrows between them. Her teeth bit into her lower lip. “He’s okay. He has t-to be.”
I took her hand and walked to the controls, only to have the captain block me. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going to retrieve my friend. The fire’s out. I know because the air was super-heating and it isn’t now.”
He didn’t budge.
Father? A little help here or I’m going to melt that darn control panel.
The captain straightened and lifted his chin. “Open the door.”
“But, sir—”
“I said open it.”
By the way, I like when you call me Father. Just don’t do it around the men.
No problem. Thanks…Father.
The blaster door slid open, taking my determined leadership mood with it. Making a decision was one thing, facing the consequences was another.
If Penton was dead, I wasn’t sure which would haunt me more—the loss of a friend or my best friend growing to hate me as she grieved. Worse, I knew if it had been Ryder, my choice would have been different. Yes, I would’ve used the excuse that Ryder was a third of the Triune, but in my heart I knew my love for him would have been the true reason.
Before the war, was Mother ever wrong in her predictions?”
Silence.
Was she?
No. But as I said, the person who dies won’t be in the Triune or affect it.
Is it you?
Not that I’m aware.
If it were, would Mother have told you?
Yes.
A mist cloud drifted into the hallway. “Captain, masks.” After all Penton had gone through not to expose us, it would be supremely foolish to take chances now.
The captain disappeared behind the far wall of shelves and returned with biohazard masks—one for each of us. Once we’d snugged them over our faces, I clasped Raeth’s hand and squeezed. “You want me to go first?
&
nbsp; She shook her head. “N-no. I need t-to be with him.” She released my hand and strutted to the blast door. She leaned into the hall, checking it out. “Th-the fire’s out. Th-that means it worked.”
Grasping the back of her vest, I prayed the hope in her voice defeated our worst fears as we shuffled blindly down the smoke-filled hall. Then she started jogging. As frightened as we were of what we’d find, Raeth’s joy at being able to run without the impediment of a clunky, metal leg, which froze at the most inopportune times, filled my mind.
When she tripped, I flew forward along with her, my hip slamming into something. Using my hands, I blindly searched for the obstruction that hadn’t been there minutes earlier.
Raeth bumped into me, her fingers feeling for what had tripped us as well. “P-Penton.”
My fingers curled around a leg. It had to be him.
Behind us, I heard guards advancing and the accompanying sucking noise of chemical vacuums. Within moments, the mist cleared and I could see it was Penton’s head in Raeth’s lap. Yanking her mask off, she covered his face in kisses while murmuring, “If you l-love me, d-don’t you leave me.”
I held my breath and pressed my trembling fingers to his neck. Nothing. I repositioned my hand and waited.
Thu-thump. Thu-thump.
“We need a medic,” I yelled.
“Need a medic in weaponry,” the captain called out.
One of the hazmat-suited soldiers knelt beside us. “Put him flat on the floor.” He jerked his head and two soldiers moved forward. One lifted Raeth and moved her a few meters back, while the second motioned me to him.
I rose and joined Raeth as a soldier carrying a medical kit arrived. “Captain, see if you can find the sergeant who was with Penton and assess the damage to the weaponry.”
The captain nodded and, taking some men, moved passed us down the hallway.
The soldier set his medical kit on the floor.
