Girl of Blood: A Science Fiction Dystopian Novel (The Expulsion Project Book 3)

by Norma Hinkens

  “Welcome home!” Ayma says, as she pulls the ship into a steep climb over a smoking Razaran.

  I stare back down at the beleaguered planet, and the heavily-armed Syndicate fleet still battling the body poachers’ ships. Smoke trails from fuel tanks, guns blazing and bullets ripping through hulls as they fight to the death.

  The Syndicate has gained the upper hand, but their victory will be tainted once they discover that their high-profile prisoners escaped again.

  17

  Phin and Ayma trade off piloting the stealth fighter on our journey back to Cwelt, snatching a few hours of sleep in between shifts. I doze intermittently, but each time I wake with a jolt, sweaty and terrified that I’ll find myself back in the cryogenics plant, buried deep within the mountain on Razaran.

  Velkan spends a fair amount of time in the engine room familiarizing himself with the stealth fighter’s inner workings and, more importantly, doing what he can to ensure the cloaking technology will hold. Our only chance of making a successful landing on Cwelt lies in slipping undetected past the Maulers’ air patrols. Beyond that, I don’t have much of a plan, because there are too many unknowns.

  Once we’re safely on the ground, we will have to find out exactly what Parthelon is up to. If he has betrayed my father to the Maulers in return for the power he so desperately craves, I will make sure he stands trial before the elders for his treachery. That’s assuming the elders don’t side with him. I only hope loyalty to my father will prevail when it comes to a showdown between myself and Parthelon.

  As the fighter drones on toward our destination, Buir and Ghil chuckle over a private joke. A smile tugs at my lips. They may have bonded over their culinary experiments in the galley on board the Zebulux, but what they share between them now goes so much deeper. I can’t imagine Ghil ever leaving Buir’s side again. He has nowhere else to go anyway. His brother is dead, and the Zebulux destroyed. I stare out the viewing window into the expanse of stars beyond the ship. It will be an honor to endow Cweltan citizenship on Ghil and offer him a permanent home on my planet. He’s proved himself loyal to the point of death, and I couldn’t ask any more of my own people.

  Ayma flips some switches and checks a couple of gauges. “We’re about an hour out,” she calls back to us.

  “Time to finalize a plan,” I say. “Can you get Velkan up here?”

  She radios down to him in the engine room, and a few minutes later, he emerges wiping his hands on a rag. “This ship’s a work of art. One of these days, I want to meet the engineers who designed it.”

  One of these days. I muster a smile at what remains a dream for now. Our future is still so uncertain and the biggest fight of all awaits us. I pat a spot on the seat next to me. “Ayma says we’re approaching Cwelt. We need to go over our plan from here on.”

  “The good news is the cloaking technology looks solid,” Velkan says.

  “So, evading the patrol ships and landing the stealth fighter undetected shouldn’t be a problem,” Phin says, folding his beefy forearms over his chest.

  “Hiding out on Cwelt won’t be an issue either as long as the cloaking technology holds,” Ayma adds. “We’ll have a secure base to work from. The question is, how do we find out what’s going on without being detected by the Maulers?”

  “And without alerting Parthelon that we’re here,” Velkan says.

  Buir draws her silver brows together. “I can do it. I’m the only one of us who can move freely among the Cweltans without attracting the Maulers’ attention.”

  Ghil shakes his head. “No, you can’t go alone. It’s too dangerous.”

  I nod in agreement. “What if someone reports seeing you, and the elders arrest you and bring you in front of Parthelon?”

  Buir rubs her long, delicate fingers down her other arm. “They won’t get that chance if I go to someone I can trust.”

  “But you don’t know who you can trust anymore,” Velkan points out. “What if they’re on Parthelon’s side?”

  Buir raises her elegant head and gives a tight smile. “I trust my mother. She is a loyal Cweltan, but I am still her child. She won’t turn me over to Parthelon, no matter what he has threatened our people with.”

  I rub my brow, contemplating her words. Buir’s mother, Yeltavia, is a kind-hearted woman, but she is a rule follower and adheres closely to Cweltan law. She didn’t want to go up against the elders when Buir and I tried to save Velkan from execution. If Parthelon has issued warrants for our arrest, Yeltavia will be torn about what to do.

  Still, I have to believe her desire to protect her daughter will prevail in the end. I let out a heavy sigh. “We’ll have to take our chances. Yeltavia is about the only person we can dare think about trusting at the moment. At the very least, she can tell us whether my parents are alive or not.”

  “I’ll go to my house at dusk and report back to the stealth fighter by morning,” Buir says.

  “If you’re not back by dawn, I’m coming after you,” Ghil says. “I don’t care if I stick out a mile and everyone sees me.”

  Buir traces her fingers gently over his jaw and smiles. “Then I’ll just have to make sure I get back in a timely manner so I don’t put that handsome new face of yours at risk.”

  “Don’t mention the stealth fighter to your mother,” I say. “Let her think we slipped past the patrols in a Syndicate shuttle.”

  I slide forward in my seat. “The most important thing is to find out what happened to my parents.”

  “Yeltavia may not know the truth,” Ayma says. “Parthelon could have told the Cweltans whatever suited his purposes.”

  “I’ll be able to tell if she’s hiding something from me,” Buir responds.

  My stomach roils. The closer we get to Cwelt the more real it becomes that I may be about to find out that my parents have been murdered. Even finding my birth father on Mhakerta will never replace my Cweltan parents. They brought me up and taught me everything I know. My home is among my people here, and I have been raised to lead them one day.

  Ayma arches her back and stretches. “Time to buckle up for landing.” She slips back into the pilot seat and grips the control stick. “We’re only a short distance from the Maulers’ patrol perimeter. So far, I’m picking up four ships on radar, but they can’t detect us, so I’m holding our course.”

  “Take us down beyond the sacred triangle,” I instruct her, pointing out a barren stretch of desert on the monitor.

  I scarcely dare to breathe as Ayma deftly maneuvers between two armored Mauler Dreadnoughts lumbering in the skies above Cwelt. Every muscle in my body tightens as we creep past. I wait for their guns to bombard our hull and the impact to throw me across the room. Instead, the Dreadnoughts hold their position, hovering silently like giant black insects, oblivious to the invaders now rapidly approaching the surface of Cwelt.

  Moments later, we set down in the silt with only the slightest shudder. Ayma immediately shuts down the purring engine. She arches a brow and sinks back in her seat. “That’s our first milestone. Now comes the hard part.”

  Buir unbuckles her harness and peers out the viewing window into the barren landscape. “I’ll wait another hour or so until it’s dark out before I leave.”

  “What about sand snipers?” Ghil asks, rumpling his brow. “Don’t they spit venom at night?”

  “Spit and bite.” Buir ruffles his hair affectionately. “Don’t worry, I grew up with them. I know how to avoid them.”

  “I am going to worry,” Ghil retorts. “I was almost executed by them the last time I was here. I don’t want the same thing happening to you if you’re caught.”

  “It won’t,” I say firmly. “My father would never permit a Cweltan to be executed in that manner, and as his rightful heir, I won’t let it happen either.”

  Ghil gives me a sharp look. “You can’t make those kinds of promises. You’re not in control on Cwelt, and apparently, neither is your father anymore.”

  I press my lips together, digesting the bitte
r truth of his words. “I’ll take back control from Parthelon, just as soon as I find out what’s happened to my parents. If they’re still alive, I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize their safety.”

  Buir squeezes my arm. “I promise you I’ll find out, one way or another.”

  The next couple of hours drag by as we wait for darkness to cloak the landscape. We discuss several different ideas for deposing Parthelon, while Buir fidgets at Ghil’s side. For his part, Ghil remains unusually quiet, a morose look on his face. Nothing I say induces him to join in our brainstorming session.

  “It’s time,” Buir says, rising from her seat. Ghil stiffens, but gives a tight nod. I’m relieved that he’s abandoned the idea of trying to talk Buir out of this. We’ve all had to risk our lives at some point on this mission, and Buir is the only one who can pull off this next step without alerting the Maulers to our presence.

  I stand and hug her tightly. “Be careful,” I whisper, my voice choking with emotion. “Stick to the back road into the settlement. The Maulers won’t know who you are if you encounter them, but if they’ve instituted a curfew, they might question you.”

  Buir and Ghil embrace one last time before she exits the stealth fighter. She breaks into the fleet-footed run of the Cweltans, disappearing into the shadows.

  The door slides shut behind her and I sink back down, hoping I haven’t made a terrible mistake. I wish I could have gone with her, but I would have attracted too much unwanted attention. I’m learning to temper my impetuousness and use the team I have around me. If Parthelon discovers I’ve returned, he’ll waste no time hauling me in front of the Maulers, and then everything we’ve accomplished getting here will have been for nothing. I curl up on a seat, suddenly overcome by weariness. My eyelids drift to half-mast as I picture the joyous reunion between Buir and her mother. I wonder if I’ll ever see my own mother again.

  I wake with a start. My first conscious thought is that it’s light out. Dawn!

  Phin towers over me, a sober look on his face. I sit up abruptly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Where’s Buir?”

  The knot on his forehead tightens. “She’s not back.”

  I jump to my feet. “I’m going after her.”

  Phin grabs my arm in a vice grip. “Ghil already did.”

  18

  No! A heavy gasp escapes my lips. Ghil will almost certainly be caught. He doesn’t know his way to the settlement, let alone where Buir’s house is located. If he’s intercepted by a patrol, the Maulers will be alerted to the fact that there are intruders on Cwelt. They’ll search for us, and our ship, perhaps even threaten my people until Yeltavia gives us up.

  “I’m going after them,” I say through gritted teeth.

  Phin’s grip on my arm tightens. “Think about it for a minute. If Ghil and Buir have been captured, the Maulers, or Parthelon—whoever has them—will be waiting for you. You can’t just go running off without a plan.”

  “Let go of me, Phin,” I say, leveling my voice to the authoritative tone I’ve heard my father use countless times in the Great Hall.

  Phin sets his lips in a disapproving line, but he releases me.

  “I won’t do anything stupid. I simply want to take the OcuLens and scout out the settlement from the mountains above the sacred triangle,” I say, trying to mollify him. “Then, we’ll talk about a plan.”

  He doesn’t respond, but to my relief he turns and reaches for the OcuLens stashed behind the pilot seat.

  I hold out my hand for it, but he slips it into his pocket.

  “I’m coming with you,” he says, his face impassive.

  “You’ll only slow me down. I know these mountains.”

  “You forget my military training,” Phin says. “I didn’t just train on rooftops, you know.”

  I shoot a questioning look in Ayma’s direction and she nods approvingly. “Phin will be an asset, especially if you encounter Maulers. I’m perfectly safe here. And Velkan’s down in the engine room doing what he does best. We’ll make sure the stealth fighter remains hidden until you get back.”

  It takes me only a moment to mull it over. Ordinarily, I prefer to move through the mountains alone, but I’m not hunting three-horned shram this time. Phin and I work well together, and he can read a situation quicker than anyone I know. I could use those kinds of reflexes if I run into trouble.

  “Tell Velkan we’ll be back soon and not to come after us under any circumstances,” I say to Ayma. “I need him to stay on top of that cloaking technology. The stealth fighter is our only ace, and our only hope of escape if we’re forced to beat a hasty retreat.”

  “Don’t worry.” Ayma gives me an elaborate wink. “I’m in control of the code for the lock override on the door mechanisms. The only way Velkan’s getting off this ship is if he takes the door apart, by which time you’ll be back.”

  “Let’s do this,” I say, leading Phin out of the control room.

  We exit the stealth fighter and sprint across the sand toward the nearest crop of boulders. We duck behind them and pan the horizon in every direction. No one’s in sight, and the settlement is too far away to see from here, even with the OcuLens. We’ll need to make our way up to the mountains and find a vantage spot from where we can watch all the comings and goings.

  Despite the brisk pace I set as we leave the desert behind and begin to ascend the craggy mountains, Phin has no problem keeping up with me. His smooth, muscled moves make swift work of the treacherous shortcuts I take him on, and he effortlessly navigates the narrow ledges we’re forced to leap from at times. At one point, I spot the fresh scat of a shram, but, hungry as I am for a good stew, there’s no time now to think of hunting.

  When I reach a familiar, well-concealed ridge that offers a panoramic view of the sacred triangle and surrounding area, I motion to Phin to halt. We crouch down, panting for breath, and I gesture to him to pass me the OcuLens.

  I survey the terrain in front of us with mounting dread. To the east, the triangle is a hub of activity. Cweltans scurry back and forth between mining equipment, while transport vehicles ferry boulders out of the triangle and dump them in a cordoned-off area surrounded by armed guards. The Maulers appear to have set up a temporary camp next to the fenced area, beyond which a single Dreadnought is docked.

  “What do you see?” Phin asks.

  “The Maulers have my people working the mines. They’ve amassed a sizable stockpile of dargonite.” I pan past the sacred triangle to the edge of the settlement and study the market stalls. There is plenty of movement afoot, and at first glance, it appears to be business as usual. But an air of morbid resignation hangs over the settlement. Cweltans are going about their work in the marketplace with their heads down, moving dejectedly from stall to stall. No one calls out to one another in passing like they usually do. They may not look like prisoners, but it’s evident from their demeanor that they are not a free people.

  There’s no sign of Ghil or Buir, or my parents. I don’t see any of the elders either, which makes me nervous. If they’ve been executed, that leaves Parthelon with full control over my people—at least as much control as the Maulers deign to give him. My throat tightens when I spot the Mauler guards on the intersections of the main streets leading to the marketplace, four in total. I zoom in on one of them and recoil in horror. Ridged scars, carved to intimidate, perch atop each cheekbone. A dense black beard adorned with gold rings spirals out from a thick jaw that protrudes over broad shoulders and a bare chest painted with alternating black and ocher stripes. Around the Mauler’s waist hang what look suspiciously like scalps. I lower the OcuLens and hand it to Phin with trembling fingers. Have the Maulers scalped some of my people?

  Phin takes his time assessing the scene before setting down the OcuLens. “They’ve only posted one guard on each of the main intersections. If we wait until dark, we could take them out with knives and avoid alerting anyone. That would give us until dawn tomorrow to find Buir and Ghil.”

  I consider the wi
sdom of his words for a moment, and then give a resigned sigh. “You’re right, we need to buy ourselves some time. Let’s head back to the stealth fighter to wait.”

  Velkan’s face relaxes in visible relief when he sees me. I half expect him to be angry with me for slipping away while he was preoccupied in the engine room, but he simply folds me in his arms and squeezes me.

  “You’re not mad?” I ask, arching a brow at him.

  “I knew you would go after Buir if she didn’t return,” he replies with a crooked grin. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less from you. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  Ayma tosses me some dehydrated snacks she found in the galley while we were gone, and I devour them greedily while Phin and I fill her and Velkan in on our plan.

  “I’m coming with you this time.” Velkan fingers the gun on his hip. “The cloaking technology is stable, and only one person needs to stay on board to man the controls.”

  I don’t bother arguing with him. It will be good to have him along.

  Phin rubs a hand over his jaw and points at Velkan’s gun. “You can’t use that to take out the Maulers tonight. We need to do this quietly. Still got Ghil’s knife?”

  Velkan nods and brandishes it, studying the light reflecting off the blade.

  Phin gives a grim nod. “That will work if you put some muscle behind it. Those Maulers are strong beasts with a high tolerance for pain, judging by the scars they embellish themselves with. They won’t die easily.”

  “There are four guards in total in the settlement,” I say. “One stationed on each main intersection.”

  “Hardly seems like enough guards to keep the settlement in check,” Ayma remarks.

  “Evidently, the Maulers bludgeoned the Cweltans into submission and they’re not expecting trouble,” Phin says. “Most of the Maulers are stationed at the camp adjacent to the mine, guarding the dargonite.”