Fiora slid off the bed and reached beneath it for her boots. She tugged them on her bare feet. The thump of their father’s pacing quickened. A knock sounded, and they all looked up to see what they could through the slats. The shadow of their father moved to the cottage door.
“Go away,” their father ordered. “I told you, we’re not interested in your proposal.”
Piera’s hand crept onto Salena’s leg and tightened in fear. Out of all the sisters, she was the most delicate in temperament. They stared at the shadows coming through the floor to their bedroom ceiling.
A muffled response answered her father.
“Put these on.” Fiora dropped their boots on the bed, getting dried clay on the pretty quilt their mother had sewn for them. They ignored her.
Wood reverberated, as if their father had unlocked the door but blocked it from opening with his foot. Salena always thought him a large, imposing man, so strong that he was able to carry one of his young daughters under each arm like a load of sticks and the third on his shoulders without strain.
“There is nothing to talk about. Now go. We want no trouble with the village,” he said. The door reverberated again as if he’d tried to close it but was stopped by someone.
“Those are bad colors,” Piera whispered.
“Emil, reconsider our offer. It is best for everyone if your girls leave.” It was the voice of one of the politicians, Garegin. “Think of the education they will get at a private school facility, the opportunities they will have that you—a potter’s husband—can’t give them. Do you really want them growing up covered in clay?”
“How I raise my children is of no concern to you. It is like I told you before. I am not sending them away. Thank you for the offer, but I must insist you go now. It is late, and this is a family that must work with the dawn.” Her father again tried to shut the door, but a loud crash threw the shadow of his body back into the room.
More shadows spilled into the room above, outnumbering their father greatly. Salena was sure she’d never seen so many people in her home at one time.
Fiora climbed up on the bed.
Piera whimpered.
Salena’s sisters hugged her from both sides, as they all continued to watch.
“I am sorry to hear that, but you don’t have a choice. If you do not do it willingly, we will have to force your hand for the good of the village.” The shadow she guessed to be Garegin stepped back. His next words were a low crack of sound. “Destroy it all.”
The upstairs became a chaos of movement. They saw her father fighting, throwing men against the walls, crashing them into tables. For a brief instant, Salena wholeheartedly believed that he would win against such odds, for he was so strong, so brave, their proud father.
But there were too many, and even the best fighter could not win against such odds, and he was thrown to the floor.
Their mother’s footsteps came from the loft where her parents shared a bed. She began shouting at them to get out of her house. Pottery crashed. Assailants moaned and swore. The chaos continued.
“We have to run.” Fiora tugged at her arm.
“We should help them,” Salena countered, not taking her eyes from the ceiling. “Get me a knife. I’ll stab them in the feet.”
“We don’t have a knife,” Piera answered.
“You can’t, they’ll find us,” Fiora said.
Their mother screamed, and the sisters clutched each other tighter. A body thudded to the floor. Something dripped from above, the warm liquid hitting Salena’s arm.
“Avelina!” Their father’s anguish rang over them. “What have you done?”
Their father ran to the fallen body. When it was lifted, the light revealed their mother’s dead eyes staring down at them through the slats. Blood dripped from her mouth through the floor. Salena looked at her arm, her eyes wide as she realized what had dripped onto her.
“Look upstairs,” Garegin ordered. “Find the girls.”
Footsteps thundered like a storm above them. Salena slipped off the bed, ignoring the boots. There was no time left for that or changing out of their nightclothes. She pulled at her sisters’ arms to force them off the bed.
“We have to go,” Salena said, finally agreeing with Fiora.
She crossed the room to the airflow vent in the ceiling that would lead to the yard. They had a small trunk they kept beneath it. Salena climbed on top and stretched her arms up as far as she could. She pushed up on the vent, hard. She dislodged it, but it remained over her.
“Piera, leave it,” Fiora ordered.
Salena glanced to see Piera holding the pot their mother had given her. Fiora ripped it from her arms and tossed in on the bed before pushing her toward the vent.
“Fiora, you first.” Salena clasped her hands, ready to launch her up as they did when they wanted to climb out of the clay pits.
“Piera, don’t move,” Fiora ordered her before climbing onto the trunk. She placed her foot in Salena’s hands, lifted her arms so she could grab the vent, and then nodded.
Fiora gave a small hop as Salena pushed her sister’s foot upward with her joined hands. In one motion, Fiora tried to push the vent while scrambling to get out. Her head smacked the vent’s edge, and she managed to slide it onto the yard above. Her weight came back down to the trunk.
Fiora touched her bleeding head and looked at her hand. “I’m fine. Do it again.”
Loud thumps sounded from above and the light brightened. An orange glow filled their room, and she smelled smoke.
Salena pushed up as her sister jumped, launching out of her hands. Fiora went over the side and then reappeared with her hands reaching into the hole from above.
“Piera, get up here,” Salena ordered.
Piera obeyed, not speaking as she placed her foot in Salena’s hands. Fiora grabbed Piera from above to help. Salena launched the second sister as Fiora pulled. Piera managed to hook her stomach on the ground above. Her feet dangled as Fiora pulled her onto the yard.
Moments later, both sisters had their hands down the hole. Each grabbed hold of one of Salena’s forearms. Salena jumped as high as she could. Her sisters pulled. Salena’s toes slipped against the hard clay wall for leverage as they pulled her from inside. Her body slid along the grass as she was tugged onto the yard.
Voices coming from the front of the house caused Fiora to grab hold of Piera, forcing her to follow when she would have looked at the flames that were devouring the house. Salena glanced back before following her sisters toward the clay pits. They traveled the ravine that took them to the pits every day and could run the path blind. Only the sound of their feet hitting the dirt marked their passing. Salena placed her hand on the small of Piera’s back, forcing her to run faster.
Fiora led them to one of the smaller pits and climbed inside, urging Piera and Salena to do the same. It was shallow enough they could stand and see over the edge. Breathing hard, all three sisters sat on the ground, hidden. Salena grabbed her sisters’ hands as they sat on either side of her.
“I don’t understand.” Tears rolled down Piera’s cheeks, but she didn’t cry out. “Why would they hurt them?”
“Because that’s what evil does,” Fiora answered.
“Where will we go?” Piera insisted. “They burnt down our house.”
“That doesn’t matter right now,” Salena said. For now, they were safe in the dark where the monsters couldn’t see them. Darkness had protected them at the house, and it would protect them now. It had to. The familiar smell of clay was home. It was supposed to be safe at home. “We can’t go back there. We have to figure out what to do. What would father tell us to do?”
“We have to run now,” Fiora whispered.
Salena clutched her sisters’ hands so tight that she felt as if their pulsebeat became part of her through her throbbing fingers. She wanted the firm ground beneath her bare feet to pull them in and hold them. This was home. She knew nothing else.
They knew nothing else.
Fiora touched her bloody forehead where she’d hit the vent. Blood had started to dry but was still moist along the wound. The light reflected off its shiny edges when she moved.
“I’m sure that we should run,” Fiora argued in a hushed voice.
“I can see that we should stay.” Piera had mud caked along her arm from where she’d fallen. She tried to reach a dirty hand toward Fiora’s head in concern. Salena grabbed Piera’s hand and held it once more in hers. She needed to feel her sisters with her.
“Salena?” They both stared at her as they forced her to be the deciding vote.
Run or stay?
She didn’t know.
Stay or run?
What would their father say to do?
Protect your sisters. They weren’t his words, but the thought came in his voice.
“Salena?” Piera asked.
She shook her head, not knowing what to decide. Fiora touched her arm. She was always so much sturdier than their delicate Piera.
“Run?” Salena asked more than commanded.
No one questioned the decision. The majority vote would always win when it came to the sisters and there was no time for debate.
Piera looked terrified as Salena stood. At the look, she hesitated.
Fiora climbed from the pit. “Hurry. We have to run now before it’s too late.”
“I…” Salena wondered if she’d made the right decision. She glanced toward the house, seeing an orange light in the night sky. The loss filled her with uncertainty. Maybe they should stay and hide. Each of the sisters’ abilities was known to be reliable. How did she know which one to choose?
“Salena,” Fiora insisted.
“Come, Piera.” Salena forced Piera to her feet and half-lifted, half-shoved her from the shallow pit.
“There!”
That one word rang like a death knell through the forest.
“Run,” Fiora screamed. Salena pushed up from the pit as Fiora and Piera ran ahead of her, but her slight hesitance had wasted precious seconds that cost them dearly. She felt rope hitting the backs of her legs as a bola wrapped around her ankles, tripping her. The two weights at the end of the cord propelled it to tangle her calves as she fell forward with a scream.
Two more thuds and two more screams followed hers. Salena tried to free herself. Pulling the weighted balls to unwrap her ankles. By the time she finally managed, two men stood above her. She recognized them as Garegin’s thugs. They’d been in the forest with him when the sisters had come across their political rally quite by accident. It was the incident that had put this night into motion, but not the only incident the villagers hated them for.
“Leave us alone,” Salena ordered.
“No, please,” Piera cried. “Stop! Leave us alone.”
“I see your future—and you do not end well,” Fiora warned, her tone harder than Piera’s.
“Let’s kill them and throw their bodies in the pits,” a skinny man who looked to be more bones than muscles said. He had stringy blond hair and watery, leering eyes. “Let’s see how much trouble they can make when they’re dead.”
The slightly larger man next to him grunted a response. Salena couldn’t tell if that meant he agreed with his friend or not.
“No.” Garegin appeared behind his thugs. “We have traders waiting to take them, and they’ll pay well for the privilege. Tie them up and make sure they can’t speak.”
The sisters fought but in the end they were bound and carted to the shipping docks. The spaceships always emitted a distinct smell, especially the older ones. After they were herded into an open crate like animals, three men stood guard to make sure they didn’t run. Two faced outward to the docking area. The third faced toward them, staring with cold eyes.
Salena drew her bound hands to Fiora’s head to check the wound now that they had more light to see. The cut was deep and triangular, like the tooth of a tree saw.
“We’ll be fine as long as we stay together,” Salena said. She hooked her bound arms over Piera’s head to hold her the best she could. Fiora pressed to her side. “I promise. We need to stick together.”
“Got them,” the skeletal thug said, coming to the cargo’s open door. He smiled as he looked at them and raised a pistol. “Good night, ladies.”
A dart hit Piera. She slumped, and Salena tried to hold on as her sister fell to the floor.
“No,” Fiora cried.
The whiz of another dart sounded, lodging in Salena’s chest. She tried to grab it, but her arms were too heavy. Fiora’s words became a mumble of indecipherable tones. Salena didn’t feel the metal floor as she struck it.
23
We’ll be fine as long as we stay together.
Salena loosened her grip on the paper and took a steadying breath. That moment in the cargo hold was the last time she’d seen her sisters. In one night, she’d lost so much, and she’d almost made that same mistake again.
Being with the ESC was probably the best opportunity she would ever have. She was lucky to get it, to get the backing of a Var prince, to get papers hiding who she was. It was a decision for her future. A smart decision.
It was a decision she was not going to make.
“We’ll be fine as long as we stay together, Grier,” she whispered.
Salena opened her eyes and looked up at the sky from her place huddled next to the palace wall. The ESC ship was a mere blip of light. Her feet had stopped moving even before stepping onto the docking plank to leave. She hadn’t been able to board. The scientists hadn’t cared. They had a schedule to keep and wished her well on her journeys.
But now what?
Grier would only find her another ship in the name of keeping her safe, and she couldn’t leave.
She looked at the paper in her hand. Now more than ever.
The steel doors opened along the same wall Salena leaned against. Payton ran out onto the platform looking upward. She shaded her eyes.
Salena pushed herself to her feet and looked to make sure the princess was not followed. She whispered, “Payton, over here.”
Payton turned and dropped her hand. “Salena?” She glanced upward and then back. “What happened?”
Salena’s hand shook as she held the paper balled in her fist toward Payton. “I can’t leave.”
“What is that?” Payton reached to take it. Salena had a hard time letting go. The princess pulled it from her fingers and began to uncrumple it. She looked at the image and frowned. “The Federation made a poster for the bounty hunters, so what?”
“So…” Salena snatched the paper back and held the picture up so Payton was forced to look at the image. “This isn’t me!”
“It looks like you,” Payton said doubtfully. She pushed her hair out of her face as the breeze changed directions and became colder. “I mean, a drawing is no holographic likeness, but—”
“No, you don’t understand.” Salena shook the paper, trying to get the words out over the emotions whirling frantically inside her. “This isn’t me.”
Salena turned the drawing around and flattened it against her palm, keeping it from flying away as she held it in front of Payton. “Do you see the scar on the forehead?” She pushed her hair back. “I don’t have a scar there.”
“It’s a misprint,” Payton said. “Happens all the time with parchment. It’s why no one hardly ever uses it for important documents anymore. But it is highly transportable and isn’t going to set off any security systems.”
“I don’t have a scar, but my sister does.” Salena shook the paper, desperate. “This isn’t me. This is Fiora. I feared she was dead. I have been all over the universes looking for her, following every lead. Why would the Federation have a picture of Fiora unless she is here on Qurilixen? And if she is here, maybe Piera is too. Maybe Fiora has escaped them
and they’re out looking for her.”
Payton took a deep breath and glanced at the steel doors. “What will you do?”
“I have to get back to Shelter City. Someone there must know something.” Salena shook so badly she had a hard time coming up with a plan. Her mind rushed with the knowledge that her sister might have been closer than she realized. What if Roderic had never given her the picture? She might be in space right now letting her breaking heart take over her spirit. “All I know is I can’t leave. I know Grier wants me to go for my own safety, and it’s best for the shifters if the Federation doesn’t know you all helped me, but I’m not—”
“Blast the Federation,” Payton broke in. “I believe you saw this picture for a reason. The gods clearly do not want you to leave. And I know Grier doesn’t want you to go. He’s torn between his duty and his need to protect you. It’s clouding his judgment.”
“Why didn’t you say something before?” Salena asked.
“You didn’t make me tell you, and it wasn’t my place. You two made a decision and I must respect that.” Payton looked around the windy docking platform. “It happens a lot with shifter royalty, I’m afraid. Duty and honor and tradition is drummed so deep inside us that we can’t see past it. Well, they can’t. I’m not like them. And, now that you’ve decided to stay, I’m going to help you.”
“I can’t ask that of you. I consider you a friend and do not wish to get you in trouble. There is too much political risk.”
Payton laughed. “Stop that. Do you think I’d pass up such an adventure? What you can’t do right now is tell Grier. He’ll try to stop us. He’ll also never forgive me later if I let you go alone. So we’re going to Shelter City to find your sister. Together.”
“How?”
Payton took a deep breath. “How are you at climbing?”
“I can if I have to,” Salena said. She folded the picture and shoved it in the top of her boot for safekeeping.
“Good.” Payton took her arm and guided her to the short wall that acted like a railing around the platform and leaned over. She pointed down the great height. “Because this is how we’re sneaking out of here undetected.”
Dragon Prince Page 19
