by Trisha Telep
The solar-rover whirred to life behind her. Their plan was for Dah’Te to search for Linse from above while Ronan followed with the rover. They would need it to transport Linse back to New Denver colony for proper treatment.
Ronan’s hand brushed her shoulder. “Are you ready?”
She met his gaze and nodded, unsure of her voice.
“The canopy here is too thick, so the rover doesn’t have a full charge. Fly low and slow and I’ll do my best to keep up.”
She nodded again.
He gently kissed her lips.
She backed away.
He let her go.
Dah’Te spread her wings and jumped into the air. Her wings beat against the breeze, lifting her higher until she broke through the treetops. A quick survey of the landscape showed no signs of Talehon scouts. She dropped below the canopy and circled the area where she’d left Linse.
From above she could see the subtle signs of his passing. Disturbed brush. Dropped feathers. She followed the trail as it led away from the river and further up the mountainside. Occasionally she spiraled above the trees, checking for Talehons, but saw none.
Their absence should have allowed her to focus on the task of finding her brother. Instead, dread knotted her stomach. Urgency pushed her to fly faster, distancing herself from Ronan and the solar-rover.
She circled a dense thicket and her heart leapt as she spotted a flash of white near its border. Swooping low, she skimmed its edge and landed, sword at the ready. Peering into the shadows, she crept closer. “Linse?”
The drone of the rover’s distant approach answered.
Dah’Te moved into the densely packed copse. Branches and vines tugged at her wings, making her wince and start. “Linse,” she called again.
Shadows flashed white to her left.
She spun, bringing her sword to bear.
“Dah’Te!”
She halted her strike and stared into a grime-streaked and frightened face. “Linse,” she breathed her brother’s name.
He lay on the ground half-concealed by fallen leaves, in an obvious attempt to camouflage his presence. He shifted and grimaced as one wing shuddered, trailing useless at his side.
She dropped the sword as tears fell unbidden from her eyes. Kneeling, she pulled him into a tight embrace.
He buried his face in the hollow space between her neck and shoulder and sobbed. “I thought you’d forgotten about me.”
“Never,” she whispered. Her wings folded protectively around his trembling body.
“Talehons.” He hiccupped. “Tracked me.” He drew back. “Thought they would kill me.” New tears spilled from his large yellow eyes.
She cradled his young face. “I’m so very sorry, Linse.”
Beyond the thicket, the sound of the solar-rover intensified, slowed, and stopped. “Dah’Te!” Ronan called.
Linse jerked and his face paled. “Who is that?”
“Ronan,” she answered, and stooped to gather her sword.
“The human healer?”
“Yes.” She slipped her arm around his waist and slung his arm over her shoulder. Bearing most of his weight, she lifted and guided him through the thicket.
“Why did you go to the humans?”
She glanced at her brother. “Their colony is closer.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Heat blossomed in her cheeks.
They broke from the thicket, and Ronan rushed to meet them. Moving carefully, the trio navigated the uneven terrain and settled Linse into the rover’s cargo area. Dah’Te stayed close as Ronan examined the young Auilan. He was gentle in his handling of Linse. He asked brief questions and apologized if the young Auilan showed signs of pain or discomfort.
“The wing is definitely broken,” Ronan announced. “Here.” He indicated the long bone between the first joint and where the wing melded with Linse’s back.
“How badly?” Dah’Te asked.
“Hard to say without a scanner, but there aren’t any protruding bones. That’s good. But I can feel it shifting, so it’s more than a fracture.”
Sweat slicked Linse’s face and dampened his hair. His face was paler now than when Dah’Te had found him. His eyes were slits and his breathing ragged.
“I admit wings aren’t my specialty,” Ronan said, leveling his dark gaze on her. “But I know it needs to be stabilized.”
Dah’Te knew what he meant and nodded. “Set the bone. Bind the wing. I’ll keep him quiet.”
While Ronan rummaged through his pack for suitable bindings, Dah’Te crouched beside Linse, gently stroking his cheek.
His eyelids fluttered, opened, but he seemed to have trouble focusing on her.
“Ronan is going to bind your wing,” she explained. “Once we reach the human settlement, he can repair it.”
Linse grunted and reached out his hand. She clasped it in both of hers.
He flinched as Ronan again touched his damaged wing.
She looked to Ronan.
He nodded, and twisted and pulled the wing.
Linse shrieked.
She did her best to keep Linse still as Ronan worked to align the fragile, hollow bones. She cooed, stroked her brother’s cheek and hair, and wept. His cries lessened and were finally silenced when he slipped into unconsciousness. She continued to speak to him softly, apologizing, promising to take away his pain – saying anything to alleviate her own sense of guilt.
Ronan worked quickly to set the bone and immobilize the wing in a makeshift sling. He didn’t believe the break was as damaging as it could’ve been, but infection was a concern. He was also worried that Linse was showing the first stages of shock. If they didn’t reach New Denver soon, the injuries could prove deadly.
He tied the final support for the sling and knelt beside Dah’Te. His voice was soft as he spoke her name, his hands gentle as he covered hers.
She looked at him, tears tracking over her reddened cheeks as soon as they welled.
“I’ve done everything I can for Linse. We need to get him to New Denver.”
She sniffled.
“I’ll drive the rover and go slow so as not to jar him too much. I need you to fly ahead of us, direct me to the shortest but smoothest path. Do you understand?”
She nodded and moved into his arms.
He held her tightly, letting her melt into his embrace and absorb the warmth and comfort she needed. He wished he could reverse the sun and recapture their time beside the river. But that moment was gone, and they needed to focus on Linse.
Dah’Te seemed to sense his thoughts and pulled back, wiping her face and eyes to clear them.
He hopped down from the cargo bed and waited as she quickly kissed her brother’s cheek and whispered in his ear.
“Remember, shortest and smoothest route,” Ronan said when she rejoined him.
“I remember.” As she prepared to take flight, a call sounded to their left. Another call from the right answered the first, followed by another. And another. And another.
“Talehons,” Dah’Te whispered, her eyes widening.
“And we’re surrounded.”
She drew her sword and her wings bristled. Facing the forest, she dropped into a crouch.
Fear gripped Ronan and he grabbed her sword arm. “What are you doing?”
“Get Linse to your colony. Keep him safe.”
“What? No! This is suicide.”
“We don’t have an option,” she said, glaring at him.
“We could try reasoning with them.”
She scoffed. “Talehons are brutes. They won’t hesitate to kill you or Linse. Males have no value as prisoners or slaves.”
“And females do?”
Her gaze shifted to the trees. She didn’t answer, but he felt the tremor that shook her petite frame.
Anger flashed through Ronan. “You can’t fight them all.”
“Do you have a weapon? No, you don’t.”
“I will not let you sacrifice yourself.”
She rounded on him. �
��You are the healer, Ronan. Linse needs you, not me.”
“I need you, Dah’Te.”
She stared at him in stunned silence.
“I can’t lose you,” he whispered. “There has to be another way.”
Another series of calls rose from the forest. The Talehons were closing.
“The rover,” Ronan said. “We can use it.”
“It’s too slow. It’ll never outrun the Talehons.”
“It doesn’t have to outrun them. They’ll be expecting us to use it for Linse. If I drive it toward the river, maybe they’ll follow.”
“What about Linse?”
A rueful smile tugged at his lips. “You’re always saying flying is faster. You can take him to New Denver.”
“So you’ll sacrifice yourself instead?” She shook her head. “No.”
“Dah’Te, we don’t have time to argue.”
“You’re right. We don’t.” She lunged forward, wrapped him in a tight Auilan embrace, and kissed him.
Startled, his brain was still processing her kiss when she broke away.
“I’ll find you. I promise,” she whispered and launched into the air.
He reached for her but her wings had already carried her into the canopy. “Dah’Te!”
His shout was lost as she issued a long piercing shriek and zipped among the trees. He saw flashes of silver, cries rose in response, and black-winged shadows chased after retreating white-and-brown wings.
“You’d better,” he whispered.
Dah’Te darted through the trees, using her smaller size to her advantage. She banked, turned, swooped, and pushed through tight gaps her pursuers were forced to circle. It pained her to leave Ronan and Linse, but drawing away the Talehons was truly the only way to save them.
A large Auilan dropped into view. His sword caught the light as he hurtled for her.
She met his charge. Their blades clashed, jarring her arms. He grabbed for her throat. She kicked away and pumped her wings, heading higher into the canopy.
Another Talehon glided toward her from above.
She folded her wings and dove for the ground.
The two clansmen weren’t as nimble as she and collided, twisting and tumbling in a jumble of wings.
Dah’Te unfurled her wings, pulled out of the dive, and kicked off a large tree to change her direction and again propel herself into the canopy. Her back and shoulders were on fire from the exertion of flying, but she had to keep going.
A body slammed into her and spun her into a tree. The Talehon pinned her shoulder to the trunk with a taloned hand.
She cried out as the blow numbed the whole of her right arm. Her sword fell from her loosened grip.
The edge of the Talehon’s blade pressed to her neck. He leered at her. “I’m going to enjoy plucking your wings, little one.”
“Pluck this,” she growled, and slashed her talons across his stomach. She felt the blade bite into her skin as he screeched. Pushing with all her strength, she shoved him back and pulled her wings in tight to her body. He recovered and swung the sword, but she’d already dropped like dead weight.
Dah’Te opened her wings and twisted, digging her talons into the trunk to slow her descent. She kicked away from the tree, bounced off another, glided to a third, and continued to bounce and glide until she’d regained enough altitude.
Her pursuer remained at her heels, and three more joined the chase.
While the confines of the forest gave her smaller size an advantage, it also required more physical strength. She’d lost her weapon, and she was tiring. She only had one option.
Sunlight momentarily blinded her as she broke through the trees. With the river glistening below her, Dah’Te led the Talehons in an open-air sprint for the mountains.
The solar-rover rattled over the uneven terrain, dipped into a hollow space, and threatened to overturn. Ronan risked a quick glance to the cargo bed.
Linse groaned but otherwise remained motionless.
Ronan had taken the precaution of using the rover’s cargo straps to help secure the injured Auilan for the harrowing ride down the mountainside. The rover had been so slow on the incline that he hadn’t fully considered the effects of a downward slope and momentum. The result was a significant increase in speed that would see them arriving in New Denver well ahead of the time he’d anticipated.
The rover bounced over a small rocky patch and skidded sideways into a log. He steered it through the skid and plowed forward.
They’d arrive all right, if his driving didn’t kill them first, he thought.
A couple near-collisions with trees, several hard bounces, and a miniature rockslide later, the ground leveled out, and Ronan began to see familiar signs. He found the trail over which he and Dah’Te had traveled the day before, and as the trees thinned the rover gained speed.
He burst from the treeline, frightening several colonists working a garden plot. He wove through the settlement, gradually reducing speed, until he reached the medical center. The rover stopped in a billowing cloud of dust.
Several men who were working on the construction of the center’s expansion called to him as he jumped from the rover.
“I’ve got an injured Auilan here,” he said, ignoring their questions about where he’d been. He unbuckled the cargo straps securing Linse. “Help me get him inside.”
No one moved, uncertainty evident on their faces.
“Now!”
Two men hurried forward, and under Ronan’s direction they carried Linse into the medical center. Once they’d placed the youth in an exam room, Ronan started pulling supplies from cabinets and prepped a medical scanner.
“Hey, Doc,” one of the men said.
Annoyed, Ronan looked up from his scanner.
“Yesterday, didn’t you leave with that budgie girl? Ditty?”
He recognized the thin pink scar over the man’s brow. Through clenched teeth, he said, “Her name is Dah’Te.”
“Is she coming back?”
Hollowness threatened to steal his breath and cripple his mind. Glancing out the exam room’s window toward the mountains, he whispered, “I wish I knew.”
Dusk elongated and twisted the shadows outside the medical center into macabre caricatures of their original shapes. But Ronan only had eyes for the mountains as he sat on the center’s roof, feet dangling over the edge. The usual dread he felt of heights had been replaced by a new terror: the fear of an empty sky.
Dah’Te hadn’t returned. Worry screamed for him to search for her. Indecision froze him. He wanted to go back to the river, but he couldn’t leave Linse yet. Infection had already begun to set into the damaged wing. While Ronan had repaired the break and started an antibiotic regime, the treatment required supervision for the first twenty-four hours to avoid reinjuring the wing.
He sighed and closed his eyes.
Dah’Te waited for him in the darkness. The memory of seeing her in the river’s shallows haunted him. Every breeze was like the ghost of her touch.
He opened his eyes, focusing once more on the mountains.
The dying sun’s light washed the snowcaps in pink, the treetops in gold, and illuminated a single darkly winged figure as it glided toward New Denver.
He stood, squinting to see the wing patterns. He tensed as it drew closer and banked to the right, heading straight for the medical center.
White-and-brown wings caught the final rays of the sun.
Ronan’s heart soared as Dah’Te landed on the roof in a sprint. She leapt into his arms, wrapping him in an Auilan double embrace, and kissing him as though they’d been parted for years instead of hours.
When he finally pulled back, breathless, his elation was tarnished by the obvious bruising on her neck and the shallow cut and bandages. He gently probed the cut on her neck. Anger choked his voice. “The Talehons?”
“I told you they were brutes.” She offered a wan smile. “But four brutes are no match for the entire Azein clan.”
He grinned
. “You led them to your clan?”
She nodded.
His mirth was shortlived, as thoughts of how they had parted clouded his mind. “Dah’Te, I—”
She pressed a fingertip to his lips. “It doesn’t matter, Ronan. I’m here, just as I promised.”
He crushed her against him and kissed her. When they broke, he cupped her cheek and she leaned into it, closing her eyes.
Suddenly she gasped and tensed. “Linse! Is he—”
“He’s fine. Resting. I fixed the break. He had a minor infection that should clear up in a few days, but he’ll need to stay in New Denver until he’s well enough.”
Her wings stroked his back. “What will we do until then?”
Ronan tightened his hold on her waist. “I know a great little campsite by the river . . .”
Star Crossed
Cathy Clamp
One
“There’s a good chance you won’t survive this mission.” Navigator Rand Miflin heard the words and struggled not to roll his eyes or snort at Commander Berell.
He leaned back in a chair not meant for comfort. “When have I ever been expected to survive? The Stovians are out for blood.”
Berell gave a little shrug and stood up against the backdrop of curtains carefully drawn to conceal a ravaged landscape. There was no denying the truth, but it was still hard to look at. Rand continued. “Earth is the first ‘backward’ planet that ever returned fire against them. We pissed them off.”
And the emperor of the planet Stovia had responded with overwhelming force – wave after wave of troops and weapons that had turned every other conquered planet into a quivering mass of easily sold slaves. But Earthlings had learned far too quickly for the Great Leader’s taste, thanks to captured technology.
Earth was on the verge of winning. It had been nearly a full month since humans had seen diron blasts redden the atmosphere.
“True, but this is different,” Berell said. “The starfighter team taking on this job is going straight into the maw of the monster.”
Rand felt his heart speed up a little, and he leaned forward. He wasn’t sure if it was excitement or fear, but he’d lost the ability to separate the two reactions long ago. “You have my attention.”
