Out of Orbit- The Complete Series Boxset

by Chele Cooke

“They know.”

  “What?”

  “They know about you. They’ll have searched Edtroka’s apartment by now. They know you helped Alec and Nyah escape. They know that you convinced Edtroka to free me from the compound.”

  She remembered how she’d felt when she saw his name on a list alongside a map that detailed their escape route whilst freeing Alec and Nyah from Maarqyn’s ownership. She’d been confused and upset. She had wanted to trust him but too many things didn’t make sense. Of course, that had been before she’d realised that Edtroka wasn’t on the Adveni’s side and that the list was to help them.

  Returning to his side, Georgianna slid down onto the floor next to him. Beside her, Keiran rubbed his face and stared at his knees, heaving a sigh.

  “Why didn’t you run with the others?” she asked.

  Keiran licked his bottom lip as his gaze searched her face.

  “Because if I’d let them take you, I’d have been right where you are.”

  He reached up and brushed the hair back from her face, his eyes so close that they blurred in her vision. His breath was warm and damp against her skin. It was the most intimate they’d been since he comforted her over her family, and closer than they’d been for weeks before that.

  “Nothing left to lose.”

  Georgianna slid her hand into his and squeezed. She kissed the back of his fingers. She splayed their hands and kissed his palms. She lay her head on his shoulder and shared her fears with him as he pressed his lips against the top of her head.

  “It’s too late now, anyway,” he murmured into her hair.

  “Too late,” she agreed.

  The door at the end of the corridor hit the wall with a crash. Georgianna jumped, scrambling to her feet. Backing away from the bars at the front of their cell, she pressed against the wall, running her fingers along the brick. Footsteps echoed down the corridor and into the small cell, boots heavy on the stones. Keiran climbed to his feet beside her. He slipped his hand into hers and squeezed tightly, but it brought no reassurance.

  Night had fallen. The small window at the top of the wall no longer let in any light. A bright blaze shone briefly through the open door and down the corridor but, just as quickly, it was gone as the door slammed closed behind whoever was approaching. The outlines of the bars glinted through the gloom and Keiran stood silhouetted next to her as her eyes adjusted.

  She knew who was coming before he appeared. Ehnisque had mentioned contacting the commander and Georgianna only knew one Adveni commander who would care that she had returned to her family home. She gulped and gripped Keiran’s hand tighter.

  Maarqyn Guinnyr strolled in front of the cell and looked inside. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his uniform without flaw. His eyes glittered and he took a long moment to look them both over, his gaze lingering on their linked hands.

  “How adorable,” he drawled with a smirk.

  He waved someone forwards. A soldier unlocked the cell and pushed the door inwards. It smacked against the bars, the clang of metal on metal deafening within the confines of the cell. Georgianna pressed her back harder against the stones. She’d been certain of her choice. She knew it was for the best. But that didn’t make it any easier, to stand in front of a Tsevstakre commander.

  Stepping forwards, he rubbed his hands together and surveyed the two of them.

  “Imagine my joy when Ehnisque called in her little capture,” he said. “She was hoping for her brother too, of course. Nothing like a little sibling rivalry to get the blood flowing.”

  Maarqyn gazed at her, his smirk broadening.

  “But, of course, Miss Lennox, you know all about that, don’t you? The report came in after your foray into the compound and subsequent disappearance: three others with the last name Lennox had passed through a checkpoint going south. They had the proper paperwork but we had to check. I’m sure you understand.”

  Her insides became as heavy and solid as the stones at her back. The weight of her stomach almost buckled her knees and at the same time, she was completely hollow. She clung to Keiran’s hand so hard it hurt, the question already burning on her tongue. Had the Adveni stopped her family from going south? Maarqyn was surely vindictive enough to punish innocent people to compensate for those who got away from him. Maybe he had brought her family back to Adlai in the hopes of luring her out.

  Georgianna wanted to burn off her tongue for even thinking something so self-obsessed.

  She didn’t want to ask him. She didn’t want to ask anything of Maarqyn, least of all news he knew she would care about. But the words were bubbling in her throat, and they fell from her lips before she could stop them.

  “Are they alive?”

  Maarqyn clasped his hands in front of him and adjusted his stance.

  “Does it matter?” he asked. “After all, you’ll never see them again. Well, maybe we can arrange something if you are under my ownership.”

  Georgianna gritted her teeth as Keiran tightened his grip into fists, so tight she thought he might break her fingers.

  “Perhaps we can come to an arrangement, you and I,” he said. “I might even spare this one from being collared if he agrees to behave. With Alec and Nyah gone, I could use more help.”

  The growl that bubbled in Keiran’s throat never made it to his lips. He rolled his shoulders back and straightened up, glaring daggers back at the Adveni commander. Maarqyn grinned broadly.

  “I must say, Medic, I was unsurprised when Ehnisque told me a man had given himself up during your capture.” He kept his gaze on Keiran. “It seems to be a talent of yours, doesn’t it? Getting men involved in your little problems. We did hear an awfully interesting story from one of the inmates within the compound. He screamed for your death quite vehemently. Seemed quite eager to tell us everything he knew, once I suggested that we might return you to him to do as he wished.”

  Georgianna paled and stared at him.

  “You want to give me to Ta-Dao?”

  Maarqyn’s laugh was so cold that it ran straight through her.

  “Give our little bird to a murderer? I think not. That would be a waste, wouldn’t it? Over far too quickly.” His eyes narrowed as he looked her over. “I have better plans for you, for both of you. I’m sure you’ll sing quite nicely if given the right incentive. Plus, the inmate was quite mad by the time we spoke to him. I think it was best for all involved that he didn’t speak any more, don’t you agree?”

  Maarqyn let the question hang in the air as he turned back to the soldier outside the door and waved him forwards. The man stepped into the cell, waiting. Maarqyn turned back to Georgianna and Keiran, and surveyed them both for a few seconds before nodding.

  “Take him first,” he said and even then, the glee was evident in his voice. “Let us see how much he will endure before he cooperates.”

  The soldier stepped up and grasped Keiran tightly by the arm. He tugged him forwards and Keiran didn’t fight. He gripped Georgianna’s hand, stretching their arms between them as he was pulled away. His fingers slipped from hers and he didn’t look back as he was dragged from the cell. The soldier led Keiran out of sight and yet Maarqyn still watched her.

  “Enjoy the show, little bird,” he whispered.

  He swept from the cell, closing and locking the bars behind him.

  Georgianna slumped against the wall, sliding down it. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her forehead on her knees. A tremor of fear wracked through her body with each ragged breath.

  Further down the corridor, a door opened and there was a shuffling as Keiran was pushed inside. They didn’t close the door behind them.

  She didn’t hear the questions they asked him. She couldn’t make out the threats or orders. She couldn’t even hear if he answered anything Maarqyn asked, if he told them what they wanted to know. For the rest of the night, alone in the darkness, Georgianna could only hear Keiran’s screams.

  The long chair was sticky. The thick, leathery material was an odd texture she
’d not felt before, like it had been varnished and hadn’t dried. Wriggling against it, trying to get comfortable, she tugged at the blue cords which secured her wrists to the armrests. The end of one cord hung from the knot in a coil on the floor. So far, at least, it hadn’t been connected to anything.

  Maarqyn stood in the corner of the new room, watching her; arms folded, drumming his fingers against his elbow. Georgianna shivered and leaned back in the chair. It propped her feet up, stretching her out. She felt exposed and no matter how she twisted and turned, no position could ease the feeling that she’d been displayed for his amusement.

  Maarqyn hadn’t touched her yet. He had stood in the corner of the room, watching, as she was strapped down. He stayed perfectly still as the soldier made sure each knot was secure before leaving. He’d not even asked her any questions. Perhaps he was expecting that Keiran’s treatment had broken her, that all he had to do was wait for the cracks to start opening.

  They hadn’t let her see Keiran. He’d been taken to another cell further down the corridor. A soldier stood outside each door, ready to shoot them with copaq gel if they tried to speak. The sun had risen and set, and all she had seen of Keiran was the trail of blood where they had dragged him down the corridor. She didn’t want to think about what they’d done to him. She couldn’t think about what they might do to her if she refused to cooperate.

  “Where is E’Troke Grystch?”

  His voice was quiet and soft but too cold to be friendly. He didn’t move from the corner of the room and he didn’t look away from her face. Georgianna shook her head, her hair sticking to her cheeks and neck.

  “I don’t know.”

  Maarqyn waved a hand towards the coil of blue cord on the floor.

  “Technology really is ingenious, isn’t it?” he said. “With the use of such things I don’t even need to touch you to make you answer my questions.”

  His boot clunked against the stone. She looked away as he came closer, and it was only then that she realised he had closed the door. When they had taken Keiran, they hadn’t seemed to care if the torture was heard outside the room. Through those hours of being unable to do anything but listen to his screaming, she thought perhaps that Maarqyn wanted her to hear. Strapped to the chair, the closure of the door now scared her more than the idea of pain. She shuddered and tried to push herself further up in the chair.

  “I don’t know where he is,” she said again.

  “It rarely leaves marks. No unsightly injuries to have to look at every day. Just a nice, complacent drysta who knows her place.”

  “I don’t!”

  Her voice dropped to a squeak and Maarqyn smiled. Placing a hand on top of her arm, he brushed his thumb back and forth against her skin and leaned over her.

  “But it’s boring,” he whispered. “So impersonal.”

  She squirmed under his touch.

  “You see, it’s not just the memory of pain that keeps a drysta docile. It’s the memory that I gave it to them, that I alone control what happens to them. Cinystalqs are useful to a degree but there comes a time when you have to truly leave your mark on a person. Am I right?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He stood up straight, his grin bemused.

  “You don’t know where E’Troke is? You’ve already said that. Or is it that you don’t know if I’m right? Well, that’d be no surprise, I suppose. You don’t seem like the type to mark another person, to claim them.”

  “You haven’t claimed them. You can’t claim a person,” Georgianna murmured.

  Clicking his tongue against his teeth, Maarqyn moved closer and took a seat on the edge of the chair, close to her knees. His slim fingers brushed the top of her thigh, up towards her waist. She jerked her leg away but had nowhere to go.

  “How much you have to learn, little bird. Every time a drysta looks at a scar, they will connect it to the one who gave it to them.” He walked his fingers across her stomach and her muscles tensed. “They will think about the giver of a mark every day for the rest of their lives. Is that not claim enough?”

  He lifted his hand away from her stomach and placed it on her knee again, giving it a gentle squeeze. His eyes shimmered when he smiled, wrinkles appearing at their corners. He was in his forties, probably nearing fifty, and yet there wasn’t a single grey hair on his head. She searched closer; anything to stop herself from looking at those amused eyes, or the vicious smile playing on his lips.

  “While we were talking to your friend, we discovered something quite interesting,” he said, tapping his fingers against the inside of her leg. “He has a mark on his shoulder, one that the Veniche use for a traitor. What is it you call that?”

  Georgianna gritted her teeth. When she didn’t answer, Maarqyn rolled his eyes and drummed his fingers harder.

  “Now, now, Medic, this is hardly going to bring the downfall of your race, is it?”

  “Grutt,” she said. “We call it a Grutt.”

  “ Grutt. Such a vulgar term. Coarse.”

  She was sure he’d known the word all along. Where was this leading? Shaking his head, Maarqyn leaned in closer.

  “Do you think he’ll remember the person who gave it to him?”

  Her stomach churned. Alec had given Keiran the mark, thinking him a traitor for working with Edtroka. Keiran had already said that he would never forgive Alec for marking him. She wondered if Keiran had told him that, already.

  “When we searched E’Troke’s apartment for clues to his whereabouts and his plans, we found an interesting list of names,” Maarqyn continued when she didn’t answer. “Was Keiran Zanetti working with E’Troke before your capture?”

  She felt sick. Her stomach rolled and clenched. Her fingers trembled and she felt heat spreading across her skin. Her gaze flickered to the cord around her wrists. It wasn’t attached to anything but what if he’d applied something to it? Something that would make her suffer with the contact. Would an Adveni venom kill her if it only touched her skin?

  “Not going to tell me?”

  Georgianna glared at him. Far from being angry about her refusal, Maarqyn looked practically giddy at her silence.

  “Oh good,” he said, leering. “I was so hoping I would be the one to mark you, little bird.”

  Soon, Maarqyn returned. He opened the door but stayed outside as a petite woman with short, spiked blonde hair entered. She wore the familiar pale grey uniform but it had been modified and was almost unrecognisable as Adveni. It was pulled in at the waist to show off her figure without being skin-tight like the Tsevstakre uniforms. The sleeves had been cropped short and designs of blue and teal, green and deep maroon were woven over her skin. No, not over her skin; in her skin. The spirals and spikes were as much a part of her as the olive tone of her face. Even her eyes looked different; a deep red line had been painted along her lashes and her bright blue irises seemed all the more vivid for it.

  She pulled a device on wheels behind her. Setting it next to the chair, she peered back at Maarqyn.

  “Where would you like it, Volsonne?”

  Maarqyn locked the door behind him and studied Georgianna, tapping the tips of his fingers against his bottom lip.

  “Shoulder, I think. Seems fitting.”

  The woman nodded and flicked a switch on the device. It hummed and shuddered for a moment and then fell silent. Georgianna shifted, her chair creaking, and looked between them. She squealed as a sharp sting shot through her arm. The woman lifted a copaq-like device. The side of it blinked red three times before going dark.

  “She’ll need to be turned over,” the woman said, calm as the breeze.

  Maarqyn strode across the room and made quick work of undoing the knot around Georgianna’s left wrist. He moved around the chair and paused, his hand inches from the other knot.

  “If you try to fight me, I will make this worse for you. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, her gaze flickering to the woman, and he undid the knot.

  Rubbing her wrists again
st the burn of the rough cord, she watched the two Adveni and chewed the inside of her cheek. A small blotch of blood had soaked through the arm of her shirt. She touched it and winced at the sting as the woman continued to flit around the machine, pressing buttons and reading a screen.

  “Get up!”

  Georgianna did as she was told. Maarqyn stepped around her and leaned down to adjust the long chair. The leg rest shot out and the back fell down until it was flat and square to the ground. Only the arm rests still protruded up on either side.

  “Shirt off.”

  “What? No.”

  Maarqyn didn’t wait for Georgianna to refuse him twice. He grasped her elbow, tugging her forwards. She thwacked her arm against his chest but he barely seemed to feel it. He manoeuvred around her flailing and gripped her shirt, tugging sharply, ripping it down one seam. Georgianna kicked him in the shin.

  The back of his hand rattled her teeth and made her brain bounce inside her skull. He had hold of her, pulling the other side of the shirt free and flinging it away. He forced her forwards until her cheek pressed against the sticky leather and coiled the cord back around one of her wrists.

  “Down!” he snapped.

  No matter how hard she pushed against him, away from him, Maarqyn forced her against the flat chair and held her body down. Leaning over her, he was so close she could feel him smirk against her skin.

  “You should do as you’re told, or I’ll have to find a more entertaining use for you in this position.”

  Georgianna slumped and stopped resisting. She allowed the woman to help lay her in the correct position. Maarqyn brought the cord underneath her and wrapped it around the other wrist. Pulling tight, her hands came together until she hugged the flat of the chair as he tied down her ankles. By the time he was finished, Georgianna could barely move.

  “This is Neyka. Do you know what she is?” Maarqyn asked, crouching by her side so that she could see him. She couldn’t look away.

  “No.”

  “She’s a Nsiqo,” he said. “She is the one who draws the Nsiloq marks when an Adveni believes they are ready to become an adult.”