Out of Orbit- The Complete Series Boxset

by Chele Cooke

  “What?” Her voice was barely more than a breath as fear spiked through her, sharper than the sting in her arm.

  Maarqyn pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket. There was some sort of pattern on it but she couldn’t get a good look at the detail. He passed it over his head to Neyka.

  “What are the Cahlven planning?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not important enough to know that.”

  He barely looked away from Georgianna as he smiled.

  “Begin.”

  Georgianna clung to the bars in the cell door and held herself steady. The Nsiqo had ripped her apart from the inside. Muscle and bone were torn through her skin, set alight, and replaced, still smouldering. Each touch was a round of torture in itself. The questions Maarqyn asked didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the pain. He murmured that everything would be okay and wiped the sweat from her forehead, but he didn’t offer to stop the pain. There was no bargain to be struck between them. He grinned with every fresh scream. He had claimed his prize already.

  The soldier unlocked the cell but she couldn’t yet move to go inside. Her legs shook and threatened to buckle beneath her. She wondered whether she should let herself fall. The stones would be a cool relief to the fire in her skin, and lying down would steady the churning in her stomach. She needed water to put out the flames and rid the taste of bile from her mouth.

  She yelped as the soldier took hold of her elbow and yanked her forwards. He shoved her inside without ceremony and locked the door. She stood, wavering, as Keiran came to her.

  His face was a mess. A long cut ran from temple to jaw and was oozing blood, dribbling over his bruises. A large red bump swelled from his cheek and a clump of hair was missing behind his ear. She wanted to touch him, to reassure him, but she realised, with her fingers already halfway to his face, that she didn’t know how. She couldn’t fix what had been done to him and she couldn’t take the pain away. She couldn’t even promise that it wouldn’t happen again; that the Adveni would pay for what they had done.

  “George,” he said, frowning as she flinched away from him. “Are you… what did they do?”

  “I told them,” she whispered. “I told them the Colvohan is coming.”

  He reached out again, this time taking her hand. Georgianna hissed, as the shirt she’d been given rubbed against raw flesh. Pain throbbed through her, carried by her blood, beating through her body. Keiran was looking at her wrists.

  She hadn’t noticed until she looked down and saw for herself. Red welts glistened in the dim light. Her wrists were wet and sticky with blisters, and loose skin was peeling away where they had popped. She’d pulled against the ropes, tugging and struggling as the vapours of pain travelled through her body as easily as air. The cord had burned her and she’d not even noticed. Georgianna glanced down, wondering if she had the same at her ankles.

  “It’s okay,” he assured her, careful to avoid the wounds as he brushed his thumb against the back of her hand. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I might have told them more. I don’t know, I don’t remember.”

  The shirt scraped against the mark again. She whimpered and hung her head, grinding her teeth. It was no good. The pain wouldn’t go away, no matter what she did. Maarqyn had done this to her; he wouldn’t want her torment to be over so soon.

  When she had asked why Jacob’s Nsiloq still hurt him, when the Adveni didn’t seem to be bothered by the marks, Edtroka had told her that they hadn’t ‘set’ the branding. Apparently there was a way for the Nsiqo to treat the Nsiloq and stop the pain. Of course they wouldn’t do that for her. They wouldn’t have given her the mark if she wasn’t forced to remember it every second, like Maarqyn wanted.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said again, leading her down to the floor.

  “Did you tell them anything?”

  Keiran looked down at his knees, flexed his bruised hands and shook his head. Maybe before, she might have wondered whether he was lying. She might have believed that he was avoiding her eyes so that she wouldn’t see the truth. Not this time. This time, she knew that he was telling the truth. His avoidance wasn’t because he was lying, but because he knew that she would feel worse to see the truth. He had withstood Maarqyn when she could not. He had protected the others and honoured the cause. He had shielded her, and she hadn’t been able to do the same.

  He looked up, but instead of meeting her gaze, he stared at her wrists, taking the shirt sleeve between his thumb and forefinger and glaring at it hatefully, as if it were to blame for the state she was in.

  “What did he do to you?” he asked in a breath.

  Georgianna chewed her lip. Knowing how he’d reacted to Alec’s marking him, she didn’t want to tell him that Maarqyn had branded her. She didn’t want to see the anger and hate in him, even though she knew he already felt it. He leaned closer, sliding his hand up her arm. She flinched as his touch rustled the shirt and pulled it against her shoulder.

  “Why did he tie you down, George?”

  The anger was already in his voice, a fury that burned as hot as the brand on her skin. He released her arm, moving away.

  “He brings you back here in a different shirt, knowing I love you and that he—”

  Keiran smacked the side of his fist against the stone with a slap that made Georgianna jump. She touched the front of her shoulder and let out a breath, waiting for his anger to subside. It didn’t. His bloodshot eyes narrowed and he pushed himself upright.

  “No…” Georgianna grasped his hand and pulled him back down. “No, Keiran, not that.”

  She hadn’t considered what he might think of the change of clothes. She was so preoccupied with the pain and guilt, she hadn’t thought about how it would look, wincing away from his every touch.

  “What, then?” he asked.

  She turned, a whimper escaping. Lifting the shirt up her back was torture. Keiran slid his hands beneath the material and helped, his fingers cold against her skin.

  “Careful.”

  He held the material away until it could be lifted up off her shoulder.

  He didn’t make her take it off; he could see well enough what had been done. She glanced at him over her shoulder as he studied the mark. He traced his finger an inch above it and she wondered whether his cold hands would be soothing.

  “He said he wanted to mark me, to make me remember it every day.”

  “Like Jacob,” he said.

  Georgianna nodded. He drew the shirt down her back with care. When she faced him, he took her hand and kissed her fingertips, wincing at the pressure against his split lips.

  “Do you think the others are okay?”

  He shrugged and closed her hand in both of his, resting his chin on top. She watched him for a moment.

  “Keiran?” she murmured. “The mark. What does it look like?”

  When he smiled, it was sad and bitter.

  “It looks beautiful.”

  Georgianna didn’t get much rest over the following days, her sleep constantly broken by flares of pain. Keiran didn’t complain, even though she woke him frequently by whispering and hissing as she peeled the shirt from her flesh.

  She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she’d counted three days before the gate into the cell clanged open again. Maarqyn left it open, two soldiers standing on the other side of the bars, as he strode through to stand before them. Keiran pushed himself up and was rewarded with a kick to the stomach. He hunched over, bracing himself against the floor as he snorted and held back a groan.

  “What are the others up to in the city?” Maarqyn demanded, without pleasantries.

  Kneeling next to Keiran, Georgianna placed her hand against the back of his arm. Maarqyn would take one of them. He would take them and try to break them and she wanted Keiran to know she was still beside him. It had been the feverish space between dreams that brought his words back to her. It had been pain and tears that had finally made her hear them.

  Knowing I love you.

 
It had taken horrors to bring them back together after their fight. They had both refused to budge out of pride or stubbornness, but that was gone now. There was no pride left to hold onto and no reason to try to grasp it again. She had one thing left to keep, to protect, and he was right there beside her.

  Keiran straightened and his knuckles brushed against hers. He linked their little fingers as he lifted his head and looked Maarqyn in the eye.

  “We don’t know.”

  This was it, she knew. He would take one of them now, his grin said as much. Maarqyn reached into his pocket and drew out a collar. Georgianna flinched. He’d said he preferred personal methods over technology and yet he’d used a collar on her before to get information. Perhaps he didn’t want to mark them so much that it made them unrecognisable, leaving him no other choice.

  Maarqyn tapped the collar against the side of his thigh, looking between the two of them.

  Georgianna dropped her head but her gaze flickered constantly to the collar. He would put it on one of them and take that person away. The only question was, which one?

  Maarqyn stepped forwards. The collar flipped open in his fingers and Georgianna squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the chill of cold metal. He’d spoken of putting a collar on her before, should he buy her as his drysta. He’d expressed his surprise that Edtroka had not applied one himself. Had he known then that Edtroka had not wanted her followed? Keiran’s fingers jerked against her own and Georgianna’s eyes flew open. The clunk of the collar echoed in the small cell. He yanked his hand away and let out a yelp of pain.

  “You came into the city with them.”

  A convulsion ripped through Keiran, buckling him over. He clawed at the collar, trying to yank it from his neck but it did no good.

  “Stop!” she pleaded. “Stop! Please!”

  Maarqyn gave her an expectant look and pressed his thumb down on the tsentyl, his grin growing broader with every shudder, every cry.

  “What are the others up to?” he asked loudly. He jabbed his thumb repeatedly onto the tsentyl. “You can make this stop.”

  “Please!”

  Keiran’s scream echoed between the walls and re-bounded, forming a chorus of screams all around her. She buried her face in her hands. She wanted to leap onto him, to release him from this somehow, but there was no way. Tears splashed from her eyes and onto the stone floor. Even if she tried to help, it wouldn’t lessen his pain, it would only add to hers. There was only one way to stop Maarqyn. She shuddered and dragged her fingers through her hair.

  “STOP!” she screamed. “Stop, I’ll tell you!”

  He lifted his thumb from the tsentyl. Keiran slumped onto the floor, panting, sweat glistening on his face and soaking his shirt. Maarqyn pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow, tapping his foot against the floor.

  “I’ll tell you, just don’t hurt him any more.”

  “What are they doing?” he asked again.

  Keiran groaned and shook his head, but Georgianna turned away from him. She looked at Maarqyn and straightened up, pushing her shoulders back. His thumb hovered over the tsentyl. For a brief moment, she considered lying to him, but what lie was there to tell? What would he believe?

  She couldn’t think. Her brother’s face kept popping into her mind, her father’s voice, Braedon’s hands, so tiny when he was born. The space between the tsentyl and his thumb was getting smaller. He snorted and shifted the device to his other hand.

  “Alright!” She took a deep breath as Keiran groaned and reached for her. He shook his head but she looked away. “They’re after the Mykahnol.”

  Maarqyn moved his thumb away from the tsentyl and fixed her with an expectant glare. It wouldn’t be enough. He would want more. He would always want more; that was what Edtroka had said.

  “They were going to try to find some Adveni to help them. Those Edtroka used to know or who didn’t like what happened in Nyvalau.”

  “Where are they?”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. Keiran flinched and murmured under his breath but she couldn’t stop. The moment she stopped, his pain would return. She couldn’t let that happen. Not when he was only here because of her.

  “They were at the house when Ehnisque showed up,” she said. “They ran. I don’t know where. They planned to go through the camps and into the city but that might have changed.”

  “Who are these Adveni?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You came all the way to Adlai not knowing what you were looking for?” he asked. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “We didn’t come here for that,” she said, shuffling forwards as he lifted the tsentyl again. “We were following Edtroka. He was going to hand himself in and we… I don’t know if they found Adveni to help them.”

  “What else?”

  She gazed up at him, wondering what in his life could have made him so cruel. Was it really just his training or did he get pleasure from this? She shook her head.

  “What else?” he demanded again.

  “There’s nothing else. That’s all I know. That’s all we know, I swear.”

  Maarqyn leaned over her, grasping her chin. His thumb and finger dug into her flesh, pressing hard against her jaw. She winced but made no effort to free herself.

  “Let’s be sure,” he murmured.

  A fresh scream. Maarqyn turned her head, forcing her to look down at Keiran writhing on the floor.

  “Please! Please stop! I told you everything,” she begged, struggling in his grasp.

  Maarqyn moved behind her and pressed his knee between her shoulder blades. He forced her onto all fours, only inches above Keiran, who spasmed and flailed, legs jerking, fresh gouges in his neck as he tried to claw off the collar. The screams cracked. His mouth was still open and he twitched against the ground, but no sound made it to his lips. His eyes, previously panicked and desperate, rolled back into his head. Drool crept from the corner of his lips.

  Maarqyn released her and she slumped down beside Keiran. He placed his tsentyl back into his pocket, straightened up, brushed down his shirt, and left without another word. It was only as the echoes of the clanging bars died away that Georgianna could hear her own sobbing through the pumping of blood in her ears. She crawled to Keiran, lowering her ear to his mouth. Warm shallow breath tickled her cheek. Another sob broke free.

  “I’m sorry, Keiran. I’m so sorry.”

  Peeling herself off the ground, Georgianna sat beside him and stretched her legs out before her. She slid her hands under Keiran’s arms and pulled his head and shoulders into her lap. She brushed her fingers through his short hair and down his cheeks.

  She waited out the night, clutching his hand as tightly as she dared.

  Maarqyn had claimed that he enjoyed the process of branding, for the long-lasting connection. But as she cradled Keiran to her, Georgianna knew that a Nsiloq was far from the most painful mark that could be left on a person.

  “Keiran! Keiran, wake up.”

  She shook him gently. He’d been mostly asleep since Maarqyn’s visit and even when awake he was sluggish and twitchy. His eyelids flickered and he looked up. The first weak rays of sun were shining through the small window and they lit Maarqyn’s face as he appeared on the other side of the bars and opened the cell gate. Georgianna gripped Keiran’s arm and kept her gaze on the ground before her.

  “Your information proved most helpful, Medic,” Maarqyn said as he stepped inside.

  A new collar hung from the tips of his fingers, glinting in the morning light. A shiver ran through her.

  “It did?”

  “Yes. We captured two traitors helping E’Troke. They have already given up everything they know, which coincides with what you told me.”

  Keiran pushed himself up, his arm wobbling under his weight. He made the motion of swallowing, though Georgianna knew there would be no saliva to coat his sore throat. It had been at least five days since Maarqyn’s last visit, though she didn’t trust herself to say how long e
xactly. The guards sometimes brought them water and a cold mush to eat, but if she was right, the last meal had been at least a day ago. Whether Maarqyn was testing as many different forms of torture as he could devise, she didn’t dare ask, but his methods were proving effective.

  Maarqyn turned the collar over in his fingers.

  “They will be executed today.”

  If possible, Keiran looked even paler at those words. His eyes were dull and listless as he straightened and stared back at the Adveni.

  “And what does that mean for us?” he asked.

  Maarqyn pointed the collar at them as his gaze flickered from one to the other.

  “That,” he said, pausing and looking over their heads at the small window, “depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether you have anything else to tell me, Belsa.”

  Keiran huffed and dropped his gaze. Georgianna shook her head. She had no more information but she knew it would make no difference. Maarqyn wouldn’t stop. He didn’t care whether they knew anything else, he would keep torturing them for anything he could get, even if it was only his own amusement. She didn’t dare think about what might happen when the Adveni decided they’d heard enough.

  “Shall I take that as a no?” he asked.

  “I told you everything,” Georgianna murmured.

  Maarqyn stepped forwards and crouched before her. He pulled on a lock of her hair and twisted it around his finger.

  “That is a pity,” he said. “If you had more information, I could have lobbied to keep you. As it is, I have no further use for you. I would have enjoyed the opportunity to spend more time together, but I fear I have more pressing priorities.”

  He pulled his finger from her hair and patted her on the cheek. Georgianna flinched, but he didn’t come any closer. He got to his feet, looked down at the two of them for a moment, and turned on his heel. He marched back to the door and passed the collar to a waiting soldier.

  She jumped to her feet.

  “Wait! What does that mean? Commander? What does that mean?”