“You liked the dark long before this,” Aimee recalled his childhood tale of being trapped in the cellar for three days straight. And then being cloistered with her in that tight cave on Bordran...the day she knew she was falling in love with him.
“Aimee.” his hands gripped the edges of the rock slab, and he was staring at her intently. “I am damaged. I am not good in the suns. I may not be able to protect you. I may see things that are not there.”
“Well, then it’s a damn good thing I got here. Someone has to look out for you, and someone has to tell you when it is time to rest.”
“Dammit,” he chuckled.
“Dammit,” she repeated.
He reached for her hands and drew her in between his outstretched legs. Looking up at her, he commanded softly, “Kiss me again.”
Without hesitation her hands cupped his warm cheeks and she bent to press her lips against his. She could feel his sigh of relief mingled with pleasure. She would never grow tired of this.
“Ehh-hemm.”
Aimee snapped back and Zak grabbed her waist for support.
Gordy poked his head around the corner and flashed his white teeth. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I wanted to say hi to Zak too.” Pink tinged his cheeks and he cleared his throat. “Well, not like that, but—I was thinking more of a handshake.” He scratched the back of his head, falling deeper into embarrassment.
Zak rose. His first few steps bore a limp, but he gained equilibrium by the time he reached Gordy and extended his hand towards the young man.
Gordy grabbed it and pumped enthusiastically. The ghost of the child was still stamped on his face.
“Zak!” he blared. “I knew they couldn’t get you.”
One of Zak’s eyebrows dipped. He propped himself against the cave wall with his palm.
“Gordeelum,” he said, “What do your parents have to say about you coming here?”
“Well,” Gordy stammered, “I knew we’d all be back before they even noticed that I was missing from classes.”
Warped logic. Aimee hoped he was right.
“You’re lucky I’ll be putting in a good word for you when I see them.”
“For saving you?” Gordy beamed.
Zak looked at Aimee. “No, for keeping her safe.”
Gordy glanced back and forth between them. “Right,” he nodded slowly, but then plodded on to the next subject. “Hey Zak, is your ship still intact, because that will be a lot easier than trying to get that fat elephant up in the air again.”
Fat elephant? Zak mouthed with a questioning look.
“You’d have to see it to understand.” Aimee inserted.
Zak smiled at her, but then swung his glance back to Gordy. “No, my ship was destroyed not long after I landed. I watched as the Korons dissected it and then later learned that it had been reduced to a useless pile of alorium.”
Aimee’s heart ached for him. She knew how special that terra angel was to him.
“Oh,” Gordy interrupted her thoughts, “because some guy out there has been talking about it.”
“What?” Zak’s hand fell off the wall. “Who?”
Under that intense scrutiny Gordy turned edgy. He hitched his thumb towards the front of the cave and said, “That old guy. He looks like he’s gone lame from a solar ray blast, but he did say something about the Zari. Isn’t that your ship?”
Chapter Ten
Zak tensed. Could it be?
He had been told that his ship was destroyed. Told by Zuttah. He had turned away from their initial molestation of it, but had never actually witnessed its destruction. Maybe it could be repaired and provide Aimee with safe transportation off this planet.
A few feet away, he could see her watching him. There was a maturity to her face now. Youth still hugged her lips, but her gaze was dark and incisive. What had once been a tumble of auburn hair around her face was now sleek and molten, like the desert sand as the suns began to set. The garments she wore molded a body that was tall and toned. She had lost weight. He wanted to feed her, and he wanted to run his finger down the long curve of her neck and feel her pulse to make sure she was real.
But she was real. As impossible as it may seem, Aimee was really here, standing before him with her lips parted on an unvoiced question. She always had questions. She always wanted to learn. It fascinated him. She was so beautiful and, if he could get her back to safety—if this stranger knew anything about his ship—
“Over here.” Gordy waved.
Before following, Zak reached for Aimee’s hand. Inside his calloused palm, hers felt so smooth. No force could motivate him to let go. Her mouth may not have moved, but her eyes flashed him an encouraging smile.
“Hey,” Gordy called to the man who sat hunched against the cave wall, staring listlessly towards the glow of the entrance.
“Hey,” Gordy repeated, reaching the leather-swathed feet. “You were telling me about the Zari. Have you actually seen Zak’s ship?”
The man’s head snapped up. Mottled brown eyes gaped at Gordy. Arms caked with dust trembled. The man’s hair was dark and threaded with gray strands that dipped around a salt and pepper beard. His face was drawn, but there was still some semblance of muscles beneath his Zull-skin vest.
Zak recalled the regal white outfits worn by his people, beautiful garments crafted from a textile trade that had been destroyed by the Koron invasion. Now, all that was left was the skin and fur of the indigenous creatures. He pressed closer to hear the man’s response.
“Zari.”
“Yes,” Zak injected, “how could you possibly know the name of my ship? I do not recognize you as a Warrior.”
Of course he was not a Warrior. With the exception of Zak, Warriors were descendants of Anthum—traditionally blond and blue-eyed as most Anthumians were. This man showed hints of once being tall and possessing great strength, but those were ghostly attributes now.
“Zari,” the man repeated.
Zak crossed his arms and frowned.
“He’s not right, Zak,” Aimee cautioned softly.
No, the man had been damaged by the Koron’s ray. It was such a tragedy to witness...as if Zak was looking at a reflection of what could have happened to him with one more shot.
Zak stooped to his knees and touched the man’s shoulder. The dark eyes narrowed on him, and for a moment he suspected there was clarity there.
“Zari,” the raspy voice repeated.
“It is okay,” Zak eased. “We will talk again after you have eaten and regained some strength.
To Zak’s surprise tears began to well in the man’s eyes. “Zonda,” he whispered with desperation.
Zak froze.
He lurched upright and swayed until Aimee’s touch stilled him.
“Zak, are you okay?”
Focused on the man, Zak watched his vacuous gaze shift to the cave entrance. Dry lips moved in a silent conversation. Once again Zak crouched down, hoping to hear some of that soundless litany. He leaned in close and whispered into the man’s ear, “Zonda.”
A tremor coursed through the thin frame and his head swung back. A war for cognizance waged itself on the bronzed face. Chapped lips parted again, and a voice no greater than a wisp of air pleaded, “Where is my wife?”
Zak staggered backwards, almost toppling onto his rear. Taking a swipe at his face, he hoped it would clear his clouded thoughts...but it didn’t. He stared hard at this bedraggled man and challenged, “Who are you?”
Whatever clarity illuminated the old man’s eyes now faded. His lips moved again, a silent conversation with people who were not there.
“Zak,” Aimee crouched down beside him. “What is it?”
Undeterred, Zak reached forward and cupped the man’s shoulders. They were thin from starvation, so he kept his touch light. Again, he prompted, “Please tell me who you are.”
It was futile. There was no cracking the shield of obscurity imposed by the Korons.
Zak needed air.
The
sun was setting. It was safe to go outside.
He rose and used the cave wall for support as he made his way towards the twilight. Sensing Aimee at his side, he felt her gentle touch on his elbow. She remained silent, for which he was grateful. He was not ready to speak. It was doubtful he could even be coherent right now.
Determined, he marched through the narrow fissure between the granite ramparts until they emerged on the earthen precipice overlooking the desert. For this brief time, both suns had parted ways and left this portion of Ziratak in obscurity. Shadows crawled across the desert floor like spilled Anthumian oil.
Zak leaned back against the mountain wall and lifted his face into the cool breeze. It clashed with the perspiration on his forehead. Beside him, Aimee slouched against the slate. Her eyes sought his, but he evaded them. There had been so little time to absorb the fact that she was here, and still he had to delay assessing that miracle.
“It can’t be,” Zak whispered aloud.
“Tell me,” Aimee encouraged softly.
“I don’t think that man was talking about my ship.” He drew in a long breath filled with the moisture of the mountains. “I think he was talking about my sister.”
Her quick gasp leaked from the shadows.
“I am lucid, Aimee. As much as Zuttah would want to tell you otherwise, the only side-effect I’ve really suffered is some tampered eyesight. I’m not making this up. You heard him say Zari’s name—and—”
“He said something else, Zak. He said another word...it meant something to you.”
Head cast down, Zak stared at the scuffed leather toes of his boots. “Zonda was my mother’s name.”
Aimee charged in front of him, stooping to capture his eyes. It made him nervous because this was a narrow ledge. He reached out and clasped her arms—probably too tight. There was no way he would chance losing her.
“Zak! Oh my God, are you thinking that man is your father? I thought he—I thought
he—”
Right. He couldn’t say the word either.
“I guess I never really knew for sure. Everyone told me that my parents were killed. When the Horus came, there was no one to save. They searched for survivors—they used their life-tracker, and I was the only signal they found.”
The gravity of that fleeting memory crippled him. It was so long ago. He was a small child hiding in a cellar the day his parents died, the day his sister died...the day his planet died. But, the very reason for him being back here was because not everyone had passed away. There was a small band of survivors—these rebels who tried to evade the Korons, and endeavored to prevail.
Could it be?
“Do people have the same name on Ziratak?” Aimee questioned. “On my planet there are thousands of Aimee’s.”
“Huh? Oh. Sometimes they are named after a great relative in honor, but it is rare. I was too young to know if my mother or sister were named after someone else.” Zak pounded his fist against the slate behind him. “If only I could communicate with this man. Those Korons always present me with obstacles...even when they’re not standing before me.”
“Curse those piles of rock,” Aimee commiserated.
She was quoting him. Their first meeting aboard the Horus occurred during an attack of a Koron ship. He had been tasked with the responsibility of getting her safely to the Bio Ward. She was so scared, but so strong and so damn curious. Even in the midst of that chaos he was fascinated by her, and as he cursed the piles of rock that were shooting up the Horus, she watched him with wide blue eyes...just as she was watching him now.
Zak smiled.
Aimee frowned.
“What?” she asked, seemingly suspicious of his state of mind.
“You’re here,” he whispered, his hands sliding up her arms.
“Yes, we have established that.”
His Aimee. So literal.
“I need to hold on to that,” he sobered. “I need to hold on to you.”
Some of her anxiety softened and he hated that the heavy shadows of night stole her face.
In the encroaching dusk, her hair turned a deep shade of purple, mirrored off the majestic evening sky.
He felt her hand on his arm and the cool touch of her palm against his cheek. He leaned into that caress and closed his eyes.
“You hold on to that,” she whispered. “And together we will go learn what this man knows...and find out who he is.”
Admirable words, but not realistic.
“Aimee, he has been damaged by the solar ray. Somewhere deep inside his head, his life plays over and over again, but he does not have the ability to share it.”
“But—”
Always a but with this one. She never accepts defeat. It is why I love her.
Yes, time might have passed, but time seemed negligent now that she stood before him. His feelings had not changed. He dropped his hands to her hips and hauled her closer, smelling her hair and dipping to inhale the fresh scent of skin at the base of her throat. Raising his head, he kissed her. It was a soft kiss—a means to convey what was in his heart. When her lips parted and she made a quiet sound of pleasure, he kissed her again. Longer.
Aimee lynched her arms around his neck and whispered his name against his mouth. The cold mountain air slipped between them, reminding him of the chill that accompanied the night at this altitude.
“But—” he repeated, smiling.
It was getting too dark to see her expression, yet he could feel her tremble. Did she still love him? She had just kissed him with the same passion he possessed. Yet, in all fairness, he was not the man she had left. He was not a refined Warrior dressed in a regal uniform—a master of the terra angels—a man many on the Horus considered a hero. No, now he was a survivor—a man whose sight was hampered by the light—a man who saw things under the suns.
“But,” she cut into his thoughts, “what about the serum? The serum to ease the mental side effects of the solar ray? It is supposed to sharpen your cognizance. Do you have some here? I know Zuttah showed me that you still have many key supplies.”
Zak frowned. “There is no such serum.”
“There is,” Aimee asserted in the dark. “Raja gave it to me in case Gordy or I were struck.”
Surprised by this news, Zak leaned back against the rock wall, feeling the bite of cold granite against his bare skin.
“Raja was working on something before I left,” he said. “She completed it? Good for her. She is always underestimating herself.”
“Zak,” Aimee squeezed his arms. “We can use this, and you can find the truth.”
The truth. Could that disheveled man really be his father? Could it be that some of his family was still alive?
“Raja was right, Aimee.”
“Right? Right about what?”
Warm fingers tugged on his.
“Come into the light where I can see your face,” she ordered. “It’s getting too dark out here.”
Zak smiled. She was already two steps ahead, stretching his arm in an effort to drag him back to the cave.
* * *
The warm glow of firelight cast marionette shadows on the walls. Aimee held on tight to Zak’s hand, casting a look over her shoulder to make sure he was still with her. She pulled up short of the entrance, into a spot where she could study the pensive shadows across his face.
He gave her chills. In a good way. Chills of anticipation. Chills of desire.
“Okay,” she began. “What was Raja right about?”
“That the serum is for you and Gordeelum. If anything happened to you—”
Aimee stepped in and crowded him. “That man—” she pointed towards the cave entrance, “—may be your father. And—” her look was enough to curtail his interruption, “—even if he isn’t, he is someone who can be saved. He is someone that we have the power to restore sanity to.”
Zak’s lips parted, but she hastened on, saying, “If I came here and found you in that state, do you think for one second I would keep that
serum on the off chance that Gordy or I was shot?”
“May I speak?” he smirked.
Crossing her arms to the chill that wove through the crevice, she consented.
“I pity any Koron that tries to take you on,” he grinned.
“But Zak, what if he knows something? What if—” she hesitated, “—your mother is still—”
Zak looked like he had been slapped.
“I’m sorry,” she bit her lip. “I’m just—I just care about you so much.”
“Good.” His smile was pensive. “Alright, but just a little bit.”
Aimee launched at him, her arms wrapping around his neck. “Let’s go do this,” she whispered into the crook of his shoulder.
With darkness closing in behind them, the cave represented an oasis with its warm fire and the camaraderie of its dwellers. These were not beaten people. Yes, some were haggard, some were injured, but none were scared. None had the look of a race that had been hunted. There were smiles and loud-mouthed jokes from the big man spitting a rock into crackling flames. The projectile stirred up a fountain of sparks.
These were survivors. Take their home away, take their dignity, and their health...but they would grow it all back again.
Aimee wanted to help them. She always fought for the underdog.
Tucked into a rut in the rock wall, the old man sat with his knees up under his chin, his arms wrapped around his legs. He rocked a little and stared at his traveling companions. There was no recognition in his eyes, he was simply fascinated by the banter of the man and woman—the way the man caressed the woman’s hair and dipped to whisper in her ear. When she giggled, the old man’s head cocked in fascination.
Beyond : Series Bundle (9781311505637) Page 34
