by Ford, Lizzy
Duty came before everything, except for Kiera. She was the Anshan to his moon, and he had begun making his schedule revolve around his ability to see her every day.
When the meeting was over, he’d take her somewhere private for a day or so and talk to her in depth. Perhaps he hadn’t spent enough time with her, or perhaps, the issues with Gage warranted his attention now rather than later.
“Dhjan,” one of the warriors said. “Have you forgotten something?”
“No.” A’Ran shook off the thoughts. Even with such a mental compromise, he wasn’t certain why his instincts weren’t settled. He struck off down the hallway, hoping the meeting with Romas and the Councilmember, Jetr, was finished quickly.
He entered a room resembling his command center, except much larger. Everything on Qatwal was so much larger than anywhere he had been. He wasn’t able to recall if the palaces on Anshan were this luxurious or large, but he didn’t remember them being so. It had been too long since he and his people were driven from the planet. But as he observed the displays of wealth, he found himself uncomfortable with them. He had no intentions of mirroring this style of royal wealth when Anshan was habitable again. If anything, he had grown fond of the rather cozy setting where his family lived on the moon. He enjoyed seeing his sisters and Kiera when he passed through their home and knowing they were close enough he didn’t need to worry about them.
His uncle and chief advisor, Mansr, stood from his position at the table where Romas and one of his surviving brothers sat. Jetr, A’Ran’s remaining ally on the Planetary Council governing the trade and relationships among the Five Galaxies, stood waiting for him. The brothers regarded him with wariness, and it was only partially out of resentment after he had blown up half their planet. The Five Galaxies considered him a lethal liability, one no one was willing to oppose for fear of what he did. The shortage of gray metal had made many men desperate, but even desperate men knew better than to turn against a dhjan who destroyed his own planet.
The wide berth most found necessary gave A’Ran room to maneuver and time to heal his planet but worked against him when it came to trade agreements. Few people wanted to make an agreement with a madman. Mansr, a widely respected battle leader and senior member of the family, attended to help ease the fears of others.
Jetr was smiling. A shrewd politician, A’Ran had never trusted Jetr as much as Kiera did. Such a man saw much and said little, unless it suited him, although he had at least proved to be dependable and consistent.
And … Jetr had been right about the betrayal of Ne’Rin – A’Ran’s former second-in-command. It wasn’t rational for A’Ran to despise the Council member for being smarter than he was about his allies, but the topic of losing his closest friend and advisor, the idea he’d been placing his family in danger for years without knowing it, still bothered him.
“It is good to see you well rested, A’Ran,” Jetr said with unblinking black eyes in an unusually white face. The hunchbacked man wore several layers of robes.
They clasped forearms in greeting.
“You as well, Jetr,” A’Ran said.
“I am optimistic about today,” Jetr said.
The Qatwalis didn’t appear anywhere near as cheerful as the wealthy politician.
They all sat at the table, and A’Ran glanced at the holographic, three-dimensional projection of Anshan swirling lazily at the center of the table, above their heads.
“I reached a separate agreement with the Qatwali,” Jetr started. “One of every ten ships filled with ore they receive will be turned over to me as payment for brokering the deal.”
“This is between you and them,” A’Ran said.
“It is of interest to you as well, A’Ran. I have agreed to front them the ore deposit they requested yesterday, since you have not yet begun mining.”
A’Ran didn’t like the reminder he was not only poor but couldn’t mine his own planet. He wanted to tell Jetr to keep his ore and the Qatwalis not to make any more deals behind his back about his ore, but he had learned much about being humble at the negotiation table.
And … everyone at the table knew he couldn’t provide the deposit they required without the atmospheric filtration systems in place.
“This sounds reasonable,” he forced himself to say.
Mansr gave a subtle nod of approval.
“I believe this was the sticking point last night,” Jetr said, glancing between the two parties.
“It was,” Romas, now the leader of his people, agreed. “We agree to turn over two of the devices immediately and to send an additional eight within a quarter cycle. We can expedite, if you’re willing to increase the ore payment by ten percent.”
“So you want me to repay Jetr,” A’Ran said.
Romas gave a cold smile.
A’Ran pretended to consider, aware of how important it was to make it appear he had a choice when he and Mansr alone knew they didn’t. This deal was the only way for them to begin working on Anshan and stop the overproduction of ore before it poisoned the rest of the planet.
But to watch his lifelong competitor and enemy gain the upper hand would never sit well with him, especially when Romas knew A’Ran had to have been desperate to approach them at all.
“Agreed,” he stated. “And I will offer a bonus ten percent if you can deliver the eight machines in half the time.”
“You will not find me turning down such an offer,” Romas said. “A Qatwali ship will accompany you back to Anshan towing the two machines. I assume you will wish to leave immediately.”
“I do,” A’Ran agreed.
“We will have the ship prepared to leave as quickly as possible.”
“I cannot tell you how pleased this makes me and the other members of the Council,” Jetr said.
A’Ran half listened as the Councilmember went on for a short time about the Council’s position on trade in the Five Galaxies. He was unable to shake the unease in his system stemming from the idea he’d soon be sending his miners to die in Anshan mines to pay someone he had no respect for like Romas. The sacrifice was necessary but didn’t sit well with him. If not for the mines over producing, he could wait until all ten atmospheric filters were in place.
Jetr finished speaking, and everyone at the table exchanged formal farewells before standing to leave.
A’Ran waited for Mansr, and the two of them headed towards the direction of the guest quarters.
“You did well, nephew,” Mansr said. “I know it is difficult to negotiate with the Qatwali.”
“It’s necessary,” A’Ran said. “Any new ideas on how to stop the mines from over producing?”
“None. We cannot make sense of the readings except to return to the same conclusion our analysts drew initially. The planet is off balance, and we cannot determine the cause.”
“The cause is clear. I destroyed the surface.”
“This stems from something much deeper, A’Ran.” Mansr turned to face him.
A’Ran waved his personal guard back and studied his uncle’s concerned features.
“It is believed the ore is part of the planet’s life force, just as the water and other natural resources are. It is possible the planet has been dying for some time.”
“Nishani said something similar,” A’Ran replied, disturbed. “She dreamt of it dying.”
“We should consider the possibility Anshan will never be habitable, even if we can mine it for ore.”
“You of all people should not be saying such a thing.”
“I am not giving up, nephew,” Mansr replied. “But you might wish to make more permanent plans for the population, in case we cannot rebalance the planet.”
The words were painful for A’Ran to hear after all that had happened the past few years. The invasion, exile, the poverty of his people, all of which became shadows in dazzling sunlight when he had found the lifemate capable of healing his planet. “I cannot accept this,” he said with a shake of his head. “I cannot believe we will never ret
urn to Anshan. It is our home.”
“I agree, A’Ran,” Mansr said. “But as the dhjan, you cannot afford the optimism and hope every Anshan citizen possesses since nishani appeared. You must always plan for the worst.”
“I’m not ready to let go of my hope, Mansr.”
“I’m not suggesting you give it up. I’m suggesting you create alternatives, just in case.”
“I will consider your counsel, as always.” A’Ran didn’t want to feel the heaviness of dread that had weighed him down for so many years. “If you will handle the preparations to return home, I want to discuss Anshan with Kiera.”
“Of course.” Mansr smiled. “Give my regards to nishani.”
A’Ran nodded once and struck off down the hallway, grateful to have some time with Kiera before leaving.
Leyon, one of the three warriors stationed in front of the guest quarters, stood at attention when A’Ran approached.
“Nishani has gone to the gardens with her sister,” he reported.
A’Ran nodded.
“How did the negotiations go?”
“Better than expected,” A’Ran said. “Come. We will ready the ship.”
Leyon drew abreast of him, and they strode together through the quite halls.
Disappointed not to find Kiera present, A’Ran knew he would have time on the spaceship. Kiera deserved some time with her sister. Aware of his lifemate’s inner turmoil concerning all that had passed between the two of them, he suspected she needed some space to repair her friendship.
Chapter Three
Dressed in normal space clothing once more, Kiera was more comfortable this day than the previous evening. She walked with Evey into the massive garden behind the palace beneath warm, sunny skies. The colors of Qatwal were so much richer than those of Earth or the Anshan moon. The sky was sapphire blue, the grass emerald, and flowers gem-like.
The first time she’d set foot on Qatwal, she’d been astounded by the saturation of color and found herself marveling at it still. As an artist, she appreciated the uniqueness of the world before her. A small part of her ached at the fear Anshan would never have a chance to bloom like this.
“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” Evey asked with a sigh.
“It’s amazing, Evey.”
“What’s your moon like?”
“Not like this.” Kiera smiled. “It’s cozy and comfortable.”
They paced through the various flowers and trees. A small, gray spacecraft flew overhead, landing close to the palace. Kiera concentrated on the flowers to keep her thoughts from returning to their dark path towards despair. A’Ran’s promise to reconsider Gage’s situation helped, until the caveat about waiting for the planet to return to health first.
“This is driving me crazy!” Evey said finally. “Are you that mad at me or is there something really wrong?”
Kiera forced a small laugh. “Just a lot on my mind.”
“This is different.”
“Nothing I want to talk about, Evey.”
Evey sighed noisily. Kiera almost felt bad when she saw the saddened look on her friend’s face. It wasn’t in her nature to keep the distance between them she thought she should.
“What’s going on?” Evey was gazing towards the palace.
Kiera turned to see five of the Qatwali warriors approaching, all heavily armed as if for battle. Their pace was quick, their focus on the two women. Her heart skipped a beat and she prayed something bad hadn’t happened during the negotiations.
“Forgive the intrusion.” The Qatwali at the head of the procession bowed his head to Evey. “There has been a threat to the life of the Anshan nishani. We were instructed to take her to a safe place.”
“A threat? What kind of threat?” Evey asked, frowning.
“There is some dissension among the Qatwali.” His eyes slid to Kiera then back to Evey.
“This is because of our visit?” Kiera asked.
“It is.”
She and Evey exchanged a look.
“Is the dhjan safe?” Kiera asked eagerly.
“He is. He’s waiting for you.”
She looked past them, puzzled not to see her warrior bodyguards present. What exactly was going on? Was this some sort of Qatwali plot for vengeance? If so, why did Evey appear as surprised as she was?
“Okay,” she murmured. “I’ll go with you.”
“I will as well,” Evey said.
“We were ordered to evacuate the Anshan dignitary,” the warrior responded.
“You want me telling my husband, your king, you disobeyed me?” Evey snapped.
He hesitated once more the stepped aside for them both to pass. Kiera tried to convince herself this was the right choice to make. His explanation made sense. She’d seen the looks directed her way by the people in the banquet hall, and if A’Ran had a bad meeting, she was easily able to imagine they were being punted off the planet.
But she didn’t think A’Ran would let anyone but Leyon share such news.
She and Evey stepped into the midst of the five, who began escorting them at a brisk gait towards the side of the palace.
“Where is A’Ran?” Kiera asked.
“He is being evacuated as well,” came the disinterested response.
Something’s fishy about this. Kiera went along with them. With any luck, she’d see A’Ran soon to ask him what was going on. If not, then …
Her doubt grew when she saw the small personnel carrier that had landed in the open area beside the part of the palace facing a cliff. As the battle commander, she knew every ship in the Five Galaxies on sight, from its specifications to its functions to its appearance. And something was very wrong with this ship.
Layers of gray metal sheets had been used to patch up scorched areas from where laser fire had hit the craft, and only one of its three engines was purring.
“Wait a minute,” she said, slowing. “I don’t think –“
The warrior nearest Evey snatched the blonde and settled his sword across her belly. Evey gasped, and Kiera froze.
“Get in. Or the Qatwali will be mourning the loss of two more,” said the warrior in a hard tone.
Cold fear streaked through Kiera. Evey appeared too shocked to know how to respond, and Kiera swallowed the lump in her throat.
“I’ll go with you,” she said. “Will you leave her here?”
“That’s not possible now.” The warrior pushed her towards the spacecraft. Evey was released, and Kiera took her hand.
They climbed into the war torn craft. More signs of damage and shoddy repairs were inside the craft, down to the absence of seats to sit on. The warriors motioned them to the far wall, and Kiera sat next to Evey.
“Who are these people?” she whispered.
“No idea.” Evey was pale.
The craft door closed, and two of the warriors removed the Qatwali helmets and tunics they wore to reveal familiar symbols on their clothing.
“It can’t be!” Kiera breathed.
“What?” Evey asked, following her gaze.
“Yirkin.”
“The guys who invaded your planet and drove A’Ran into exile?”
Kiera nodded. The spacecraft pitched one way then the other as it lifted off the ground. Kiera gripped Evey to prevent them from being flung across the open floor of the ship. With a howl, the single engine managed to lift them into the sky.
“That doesn’t sound good,” Evey said.
“I’ve never heard of a craft this size running on only one engine.”
One of the Yirkin glanced over at them before approaching with gray handcuffs. He knelt. One of his eyes was bright blue, the other gold. They stood out in his tanned face, along with the shock of white-blonde hair marking him of neither Qatwali nor Anshan heritage. A knotted scar ran down the side of his face and his hands were discolored as if by burns.
“There is no escape but death, nishani,” he said and cuffed Kiera’s hands and then Evey’s.
“The Yirkin motto,” Kiera murmured, r
ecognizing the words from her studies of the invader enemies of Anshan.
“What do you want with her?” Evey asked in a hushed tone.
“It will become clear soon enough.” He moved away without another word. “Stay quiet.”
The howling engine soon grew into an outright scream, making it impossible for them to talk anyway. Kiera plugged her ears with a grimace and watched the warriors do the same. Three were crowded into the cockpit, two hovering and the third at the navigation station. She suspected they were as concerned about the craft making it anywhere as she was.
The trip was longer than she expected the disabled ship capable of traveling, over six hours, long enough to make it to Anshan or out of the solar system completely if they went the opposite direction. The shouts of the warriors were lost over the wailing engine, and they resorted to hand signals she didn’t understand to communicate.
Her chest tight with fear they were going to stall out any moment, she could do nothing but wait.
The engine began to wind down, an indication they were descending, only to be replaced by another sound. The craft was battered by winds strong enough to tear off at least one piece of the metal used to patch it. Kiera and Evey braced themselves against the wall to stay in place. What sounded like hail smashed into the sides of the ship.
Just as suddenly as it started, the winds and pelting stopped. The engine was reduced to a purr and the craft bumped gently against the ground. At long last, the nerve wracking descent was over.
The Yirkin with mismatched eyes approached and grabbed Kiera’s arm, hauling her to her feet. Two of his men wrestled with the door and managed to open it manually. It fell away and hit the ground with a puff of dust. The area beyond the door was dark, and Kiera’s heart began to pound. She dug in her heels, but the Yirkin jerked her forward to the exit and all but dragged her to the ground beyond.
She caught herself in time to keep from falling, her gaze darting around wildly. They appeared to be in a cave. The rocks and gravel at her feet were reddish, and sickly yellow lanterns glowed every twenty feet or so from their positions jammed into crevices along the cave walls. It was about forty feet across and too dark for her to figure out how deep.
