The Ravager Chronicles: The Complete Series

by Sara Page

  “Well?” I ask when Vrillum doesn’t say anything.

  Vrillum lifts a brow.

  I tap my foot impatiently. “Are you going to extend my rescuers an official welcome?”

  Vrillum’s eyes narrow for the briefest of seconds in annoyance then he clears his throat and bends into a bow. “Welcome to Terrea Prince Drek Ros Karmada of Black Spire and Commander Striker of the Harpy’s Talon.”

  Straightening, Vrillum looks not to them but to me. “We do hope you enjoy your stay, whether it be long or brief.”

  Vrillum’s brow twitches and he inclines his head, silently asking if I’m satisfied. I nod my head. It will do.

  “Shall we?” Vrillum asks and sweeps his arm towards the exit.

  I’ve completely run out of patience. Anything else will just have to wait. It feels like it’s taken weeks to get here though it’s only been hours.

  I nod my head and say impatiently, “Please.”

  Chapter Eight

  When I envisioned myself returning home all those days and nights I spent alone, huddled in my escape pod, I always imagined there would be cheering crowds, thrown flowers and planetwide celebrations in my honor. Everyone would be so happy to see me. I would be joyful, the people would be joyful, and my father would be overjoyed to once again have his beloved daughter home. I often pictured myself kissing the ground and sucking in lungfuls of air, savoring the familiar taste of it. I would make an official proclamation, vowing to never again set foot on a spaceship. Vowing never again to leave my beloved Terrea.

  Home is where the heart is after all. At least it used to be…

  If I could talk now to that scared, crying girl in her escape pod, she might not believe she would be rushing through the gardens, through the palace doors, and practically running through the immaculate halls on the heels of Vrillum with two menacing Ravagers following her.

  We’re moving so fast, my heart is thumping so hard and my mind is twisted, racing with fear and what-could-bes, I can’t even enjoy my homecoming. I don’t care about the people, the dirt, or the air. It hasn’t even truly hit me that I’m here, I’m really here, and somehow, someway I made it home… All I can think is, What horror awaits me? What happened to my father?

  The walls, the people I pass, just bleed in the corners of my vision. I know where we’re going and it’s not long before I’m passing Vrillum. He’s too slow and only in my way. I race down the private hallways, the part of our palace that’s off-limits to the public. My father is back here, in his bed chamber… Why wouldn’t anyone tell me what’s going on?

  There are gasps and things dropped, things breaking. My world is breaking. The staff, I don’t know who they’re more surprised to see: me, the dead princess or the Ravagers following me. There’s confusion, some guards call out, their voices warning and threatening. I think perhaps they get the impression that Beast and Striker are chasing me. I ignore them, I don’t care.

  Vrillum gets caught up, for being slow he gets to explain.

  I’m reaching out to grab the golden handles that open up my father’s bed chamber when someone has the nerve to reach out and stop me.

  I blink in confusion. Someone is touching me, grabbing me by the wrists and pulling me away. I’m so out of breath, so winded, it takes me a full two seconds to shriek, “Unhand me!”

  “Princess,” a calming voice says and I look up from the unwelcome hands to see the face. It’s a guard, one of my protection squad. I recognize him, he’s one of the younger ones, one of the more handsome ones with his blonde hair and pretty blue eyes but I don’t know his name. “He’s not in there. He’s in the medical wing.”

  Both Beast and Striker start growling behind me. The hairs on the back of my own neck stand on end to hear the sound they make. The guard drops my hands, practically throwing them at me, and slowly backs away.

  Shit. Of course he’s in the medical wing.

  “Thank you,” I murmur towards the guard. I’ll definitely have to remember, when I don’t have so much stuff going on, to ask his name. He seriously deserves a medal for bravery.

  I spin on my heel. Beast and Striker’s eyes are glowing so bright, it’s almost blinding. “Tone it down a bit, please?” I shield my eyes against their glares and point down the hallway to the right. “The medical ward is that way.”

  “Ameia!” Vrillum calls out to me, catching up to me just as I start for the medical wing. “If you would have waited…” he huffs but I don’t stick around to hear him finish. Time is fleeting.

  I run. I run as fast as my feet can carry me. I don’t stop running, I don’t stop until I crash into the armored chests of the King’s Guard who are surprise, guarding the medical wing. At least I know I’ve got the right place this time.

  I backpedal a bit and push my hand against my chest. That crash nearly knocked the wind out of me.

  The guard I hit umphs and shakes it off. I know I should say I’m sorry but instead I find myself saying, “Move.” Then, remembering my manners, I tack on a belated, “Please.”

  “Ameia!” Vrillum huffs out, once more catching up to me. He stops at my side, bends at the waist and proceeds to heave.

  The guards before me do not budge. There’s four of them standing elbow to elbow, clad head to toe in golden armor and gripping spears. The spears can be used to spear or with a twist fold into two and transform into blasters. The look of the armor is deceiving. I know for a fact that it’s only plated in the gold and beneath the plate is flexible steel. The armor might give if given enough force but it won’t break. The armor is so polished, so clean, I stare at a breastplate and can see myself staring back at me.

  I’m skinny, perhaps even a little skinnier after all those days of living on only mystery meat. I eye the small amount of space the King’s Guard left between themselves, thinking perhaps if I hold my breath I can squeeze.

  Vrillum straightens, getting himself in order. He yanks on his sleeves and adjusts his collar. Then, as if he can tell exactly what I’m thinking, he reaches out and grabs me. “Ameia, wait.”

  Big mistake. My skin crawls at the contact.

  Beast booms behind me, “Do not touch her.”

  Striker growls, “Mine.”

  The air suddenly feels charged, crackling with some unseen energy. I swear some of my curls are lifting, floating as if I was just shocked by static.

  I yank my arm back and shake my head slowly at Vrillum, my eyes warning.

  Vrillum looks confused, he doesn’t understand. “Yours?” he asks, his eyes narrowing and his brow furrowing as he turns on Striker.

  Shit. This is so not the time for this crap. “Don’t!” I snap and shake my head. The static crackles across my skin.

  Striker takes a step forward, I can practically feel the murder rolling off of him. I jump in front of Vrillum, shielding him with my own body. Thankfully Beast seems to still be rational, he reaches out and yanks Striker back.

  Thank you, I mouth at Beast and he nods his head. His ruby eyes though slide past me, flashing at Vrillum. It’s almost as if he’s trying to tell me something…

  “Ameia?” Vrillum asks, confused.

  I know what he’s asking, I just don’t have an answer for him right now.

  “Please, Vrillum,” I say, turning back to him. “I just want to see my father.”

  I just want to go in. I just want to see what’s going on, but it feels like some unseen force is doing everything in its power to stop me.

  Vrillum’s eyes grow sympathetic and he nods his head. His hand reaches out, he’s about to touch me again, probably to comfort me but he thinks better of it and eyes Striker as he pulls it back. “We can go in right now if you want but I’m afraid your guests will have to wait out here, in the hallway.”

  Yet another obstacle tossed in my way it seems. Call it a hunch but I know Beast and Striker are not going to be happy being separated from me. I just know, I just have this feeling that if I ask them, if I give them the chance to, they might try to stop m
e. I look at them, then the guards and then back to Vrillum. I know they will stop me…

  So I don’t give them a chance.

  As if he can sense it, as if he knows I mean to put a wall between us once more, Beast growls out, “No…”

  But it doesn’t stop me. I can’t let it stop me. I just have to do this and I have to do it now. I’ll reap the consequences later.

  I grab Vrillum’s hand and order the King’s Guard to, “Move out of my way.”

  The golden wall parts this time and I rush Vrillum and I forward.

  I don’t look back, I can’t look back. There’s only forward, pulling Vrillum while I push through the doors.

  Beast and Striker growl and snarl behind me. I hope, I pray they don’t try too hard to follow. But I’m just at that point, that point of desperation where I’ll take that chance.

  Chapter Nine

  Vrillum and I rush into the medical ward and I come to a complete stop, shocked and overwhelmed by what’s in front of me. I just can’t believe it. That cannot be my father on that bed, it just can’t. I shake my head in denial.

  This isn’t real.

  Unlike the public hospitals, this area is smaller, more private. In the public hospital there might be several rooms such as patient rooms, waiting rooms, and lots of people. Here there is only one large area, one large gray room filled with state of the art medical equipment. It’s uncomfortably bare save for the bed sitting center stage in the middle of the room.

  In the center of this room is a large bed with various lines, tubes, wires, and other medical mechanical things hooked up to it. And on that bed is a man connected to a plethora of medical tubes and wires while most of his body below his neck is wrapped up in dark-stained white bandages. Even from here I’m having trouble accepting what I’m seeing. I’m having trouble making it make sense. We must have the wrong room.

  “Vrillum?” I ask and turn to him. “Where’s my father?”

  “That’s him,” Vrillum says softly.

  “No.” I say and slowly shake my head. I hate to wish ill will on others but please, please be someone else.

  “Yes,” Vrillum says sympathetically and pulls me forward.

  I forgot I was still holding on to him.

  That can’t be my father. My father is young and healthy, he’s only seventy-two. He has over a hundred years left to live, perhaps even more than that because he’s very conscious about his health. He’s virile, in the prime of his life. If he chose to I’m sure he could even produce another heir or two.

  That man on the bed, he’s wrapped in stained bandages from his neck to his toes. He’s motionless. He looks broken. For all I know he could already be dead. For all I know it’s not even a him it could be a her. The body has been wrapped up like some ancient mummy from Old Earth. The bandages are thick and stiff, it looks as if it would be impossible for the body to move. And for whatever reason its head has been left unwrapped. Why go through all that trouble of wrapping the body only to leave the skull vulnerable and exposed? That head is bald and smooth. There’s no hair and the skin appears to glisten, slathered with a thick layer of clear goop.

  Step by step Vrillum pulls me forward. I rushed so fast to get here and now all I want to do is go back.

  I try to dig in my heels.

  If I don’t confirm that it’s my father, if instead I run away, back to Beast and Striker, do I have to accept this? Can I convince myself this isn’t real?

  Vrillum keeps pulling me, keeps dragging me along. He won’t let me turn back around. He’s going to force me to face this. I hate him so much right now.

  “What happened?” I ask, my voice cracking like static. I want to stop. I don’t want to get any closer. I don’t really want to know.

  But step by step Vrillum leads me forward. And the closer we get, the more I feel what’s left of my strength crumble. I feel it. I sense it. I don’t recognize the body and I can’t begin to explain it. It’s like seeing someone in the dark and knowing who it is. Somehow a part of me just knows.

  Vaguely I’m aware there are other people in the room. There are people in the very back, shadowed, working with machines. There are even people seated to the left, talking and whispering. The machines are humming and beeping. It’s all a buzz, all background stuff I can’t sort out. There're too many feelings, too many flashing lights, noises, and unpleasant smells.

  “There was a fire,” Vrillum starts.

  “A fire,” I repeat dumbly, trying to focus on him through the buzz in my ears.

  Vrillum nods and squeezes my hand. “It happened two nights ago, in his chamber.”

  I hold onto Vrillum like he’s my anchor, like he’s the only thing that’s keeping me up and not face-down on the ground. My knees feel weak. I am so weak. I should turn back, I should grab Beast. I need him so much right now.

  “How?” I ask.

  Vrillum hesitates and then says, “It appears to be intentional.”

  “What?” I ask, feeling even more confused. “Someone did this on purpose?”

  What kind of monster lights someone on fire?

  Vrillum shakes his head and we finally reach the side of the bed. I try to focus on anything else but the face, the face that’s mutilated, swelled… alien. I look to the blankets, to the bandaged arms. I follow the various lines and streams hooked up and pumping florescent fluids in and out of the prone body.

  “Not someone,” Vrillum goes on. “It appears the King did it.”

  “What?” I gasp shrilly. “He lit himself on fire?”

  No fucking way.

  The man on the bed groans and his eyes peel open. He has no eyebrows, no eyelashes, and his skin is a twisted, melted mess. But I recognize those eyes, those are my father’s eyes looking up at me. My stomach lurches.

  “Ameia?” the man groans. It must hurt to speak because his eyes fill with pain.

  This should be the moment I hug him. The moment I get to surprise him and tell him I’m not dead.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

  I don’t know what to do right now so I nod my head and try my best to smile but I’m pretty sure my tears ruin it.

  “How?” he gasps then he closes his eyes and his entire body shudders.

  “Shhh,” I hush him because I don’t want him to hurt himself trying to speak to me. “You should rest. We can talk later.” I pray there is a later.

  Someone from the back of the room separates from the shadows and hurries towards the bed. It’s an older man, and because he holds a mediscanner in his hand, I assume he’s one of the doctors. The doctor ignores Vrillum and me, focused completely on waving his scanner over the King’s bandaged chest.

  My grip on Vrillum’s hand tightens and we both watch silently as the doctor’s mediscanner flashes and beeps out information.

  “The King is in a great deal of pain, princess,” the doctor murmurs after a couple of minutes, still focused on his tasks. “I’m sorry but I must increase his pain medication and sedate him.”

  My father groans out suddenly, “You.”

  The doctor looks up at me, his eyes asking if I want to keep my father awake so I can speak with him. I don’t want my father suffering. A great deal of pain. I can’t even imagine. “Please,” I nod to the doctor. He nods back and fiddles with the fluorescent lines.

  My father starts coughing. It’s a wet, hacking cough. My teeth clench as I watch his body tremble.

  “Don’t,” the King groans and his eyes flicker open.

  He’s fighting, why is he fighting it? Why did he light himself on fire? How can anyone do that?

  “Shhh,” I do my best to say soothingly. “Relax. I’ll be here. Rest.”

  I don’t know what I’m doing. How do I do this?

  “You have to,” my father hisses.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I reassure him. It feels too weird. I’ve never had to reassure my father before.

  I frown at the doctor. Why isn’t the medicine working? Perhaps I should cal
l another doctor over.

  The doctor is quick to apologize. “I’m sorry, princess. I’ve administered the highest dose. It should take effect any second now.”

  “Marry him,” my father sighs and my ears perk up, suddenly alert. The tremors stop and his body goes limp as if he’s given up the fight.

  “Marry who?” I ask, feeling suddenly lightheaded. The dream I had of my father and Beast flashes in my mind.

  Yours! Yours! Yours!

  I lean towards the bed, expecting my father to say Beast, even though it should be completely impossible. How would my father even know who Beast is?

  I’m so close, I inhale the fumes of the antiseptic goop they have slathered all over his skin.

  I wait with bated breath for my father to answer but he seems at peace now, he doesn’t move. It’s a good thing, he’s resting. It’s exactly what I wanted. So why am I disappointed?

  The doctor quickly checks his mediscanner then informs us, “He’s sleeping now.”

  I sigh and turn towards Vrillum, ready to go when my father whispers one final word. It’s so faint, I almost don’t believe I heard it.

  But then Vrillum’s eyes go wide. Did he hear it too?

  “Please tell me I just imagined that,” I say in disbelief. Please tell me my life hasn’t completely gone to shit.

  Vrillum shakes his head and the doctor looks extremely uncomfortable.

  “No,” I say and drop Vrillum’s hand, stepping away from him.

  “Ameia,” Vrillum says worried and reaching for me.

  “No, no, no,” I say over and over again, shaking my head.

  I’ve had enough. I’m throwing in the towel. I’m calling it. I can’t take any more.

  The world spins around me. I feel myself stumbling. This can’t be right. Everything is wrong. We must have accidently slipped into another dimension.

  After all the shit I’ve gone through today, my dying father told me to marry Vrillum.

  I have to get out of here.

  I need to tell Beast we jumped through the wrong wormhole.

  * * *