The Iron Altar Series Box Set One: Books 1 to 3

by Casey Lea

  Do not resist.

  Clear’s body seemed to be in agreement with her teaching. She was suddenly unable to stand, let alone fight. She sagged further, folding at the knees, and the Beserk took two rapid strides to grasp her under the arms.

  “Got ya,” commented a surprisingly sane and cheerful voice. “Ups-now, little lady.” The Beserk wrapped an encouraging arm around Clearwing and walked on, supporting her with apparent ease.

  She was shivering hard and her escort belatedly realized that he was the only thing holding her up. He hummed quietly and hoisted her into his arms without breaking stride. He carried her nonchalantly back to the heart of the ship and they reached the nest much sooner than she wanted.

  That dark space echoed with Lamidia’s curses and the vicious mind behind that pretty face hit Clear with such force that her fronds curled tight and useless in response. All sense of the people ahead was lost. She struggled to relax her fronds, but they clung to her neck, curled up close beneath each ear. She was completely blind for the first time since being attacked.

  However, the nest was abruptly lit by a glow from her captor’s com. The sudden light dazzled them all, but it was directed at Lamidia. The escaped prisoner’s swearing switched focus from Clearwing to the Beserk.

  “Nikareon, gut the drakking light. Now. You may think it a busting jest, but I’ll make certain-sure my father fails to agree.” She both snarled and blinked at the newcomer in comic contrast, but he ignored her order.

  “Lucky day to you too,” he drawled, and then slipped into a parody of a mutt accent. “You lost this’n.” He glanced down at Clear, who stared back wide-eyed.

  She had a brief impression of silver-blond hair, paired with mismatched eyes, one gray and the other gold, before her legs were dropped to dump her roughly on her feet. The Beserk hooked a hand under her armpit and she managed to stay upright. Unfortunately, her fronds straightened along with her body and were assaulted again by Lamidia’s anger. Clear swayed in response and Nikareon’s grip tightened.

  The pirate leader hissed from the floor at Clear’s feet when her attention switched back to the young kres. Lamidia was shaking too, but her trembling was clearly caused by rage. She ignored the mutt, who was clumsily smoothing a regen strip around her injured shoulder. Her eyes were fixed on Clear and both pupil and iris vanished beneath a sheen of silver.

  “Easy now, easy then, easy-as,” Nikareon murmured, and carefully drew Clear back, away from the crouched figure on the floor.

  The mutt had frozen, but could not restrain a whimper when it stared sidelong at its mistress.

  “Easy,” the Beserk repeated with more force, and his fronds sent a warning.

  His threat was enough to jerk Lamidia away from Clear and the Harvester’s gleaming gaze shifted to Nikareon. He stared back for a long, tense minute and his eyes grew brighter, until they gleamed in the dim light, while hers slowly faded. His growing anger seemed to leach the faint berserk sheen from her pupils and reflect it back magnified, so that his own gaze turned to molten silver.

  It was Lamidia who looked away first, with a gruff “easy,” of her own. She turned back to Clear and her expression was still murderous, but the Harvester took a shuddering breath and, when she raised her com, there was no hum of a blaster charging.

  “You’ll regret that, gat,” she promised sincerely. “Till your dying, you’ll regret blooding me. This wasn’t personal, but now… now I owe you.” Her com glowed and Clear’s fronds flinched, but the energy it released was faint, a trail of numbers that flew straight to her com and was accepted.

  Not just numbers, Clear realized when her eyes flicked to check the message. She saw a crisp credit trail, depositing new money into her account. A lot of money. A huge payment, she realized, from a prisoner who was about to escape on her watch. She looked up desperately, but Lamidia had vanished.

  Clear’s fronds sensed the Harvester’s body heat and the cold touch of her mind close behind the kres, but she was held even tighter than before by the Beserk. Unable to turn, she stood helpless while a com field stabbed into her neck.

  The injection was brutal and Clear’s mouth widened as anaesthezine was forced into her body, but her throat was already frozen and no sound escaped it. Everything around her blurred while her fronds grew limp, and then her eyes glazed too. The world darkened, until scraps of sound were all that remained, disjointed words, without emotion or sense.

  “Port alert, Lady-Luck. Time… go.”

  “How... not ‘til later… They found your ship…”

  “Never. It’s field clear. The failure must be the Kressykins…”

  “... My fault? I freed you and did all you asked…”

  “Time to stay and dance, My Lady, or go...?”

  “At speed. We’re gone for Mermaridia.”

  “No, wait. What of… evidence trail? You swore I’d stay safe. You promised. You have to clear all my DNA. Lady, wait. Please, my Lord Beserk-”

  “Your trail and your trial, chick. Clean your own diaper strip.”

  Then there was only silence. A soft, dark, surprisingly welcome silence.

  21

  Jailbird

  The darkness seemed sadly brief to Clear. She was fairly sure that whatever was waiting for her when she woke would be far from pleasant. So she lay still, stubbornly embracing the silence, until it was broken by a new voice that was much more familiar than she expected. “Clear, Gods, Clear… Clearwing, wake up. Fight.”

  Her jaw was sore, too sore to move, but, strangely, there was fresh pain and someone who sounded just like her croaked, “Free?”

  “Ye,” a voice agreed in rough reassurance, and abruptly she could feel again.

  Someone was holding her. She could hear a heartbeat and realized her cheek was resting against someone’s chest.

  “Free?” she tried again with growing disbelief, and then remembered herself and cursed her informality. “Leader?”

  The body cradling hers tensed and the arms around her fell away to leave her unsupported on that mysterious someone’s lap.

  “Yes,” her Leader’s voice agreed, and his face swam into focus, still close to hers, but wearing a remote expression that offered only professional concern.

  Clear’s fronds twitched and tentatively uncurled to taste her surroundings. The first thing they felt was the polite veneer of her commander’s mind, tinged with faint concern for one of his junior officers. He was sitting on the floor and she was draped across his lap, still loosely supported in his arms.

  “Sah, Lamidia-”

  “We know,” he interrupted grimly. “Lie still, Sub-Plus. The anaesthezine was untailored and caused complications.”

  “Anaesthezine? Complications?”

  “You’ll be fine-as,” he reassured her, but didn’t smile.

  A sense of impatience to one side of Clear caused her to look around, and then blink at the burnished glory of a phalanx of Royal Guards.

  “Lord,” their leader stated with cursory respect and no effort to hide her annoyance, “since the suspect is now recovered, she will be placed under arrest.”

  Clear shuddered, but despite the shock, she was not surprised. She had been well framed for this crime. Even drugging her with general anaesthezine, the only type available to junior officers, made her unconsciousness look like a clumsy attempt to seem innocent. She kept her eyes fixed on Free, while a restraint field settled over her wrists and a disembodied voice proclaimed, “Sub-Plus Clearwing Pinion, you are charged with treason and will answer in court as the Arck decrees.”

  Hands grasped Clear’s forearm and tightened to haul her upright, but Free hissed fiercely and she was quickly released. She was shaking again when her leader rose more carfefully and lifted her with him. He let her feet find the floor and supported her until her balance returned. She took a steadying breath and blinked quickly so that she could look up at him dry-eyed and determined. “Sah, I would never-”

  She had to stop and Free released her
to squeeze her bound hands instead. His grip tightened, firm and reassuring. “I know you would never betray us. I believe you, Clearwing. Feel no fear, because you’ll soon be free. I swear it.”

  Her mouth trembled, but then her shaking eased and abruptly her lips curved in a surprisingly easy smile. “All right then,” she whispered. “If you say.”

  The leader of the Royal Guards stepped forward to claim Clearwing. Her com linked with the binding field around the young officer’s wrists, but tightened gently to pull her away from Free more politely than before. He made no further protest when his Sub-plus was led away. He simply stood there, rigid apart from his fronds, which rose to follow Clear’s passage into the link.

  She stumbled over her feet, trying to walk half-turned so she could look back at her Leader. She attempted another smile, but it was harder this time and her effort made Free grimace. Somehow he untwisted his face to offer her the shadow of a smile instead, just before she was pushed into the link. She finally turned away and picked up her pace before the guards could shove her again. Getting arrested was irrelevant, so long as Free was on her side.

  Clear tried to hold that thought when she was dragged from the link and thrown into an opaque float. Darkness settled over her again and she wondered when she would next see the light.

  22

  A New Ship

  Free followed on the heels of Clear’s guards, drawn in their wake by helpless concern. He’d been neatly diverted at Court while his newest officer was plucked and roasted. The trap was obviously set with Sharpeye’s connivance, which didn’t bode well for Clear.

  Free reached the end of the link and balanced on the lip of the main hatch while his gut chewed on raw anger. He was going to stop this, even if he had to use every asset he had.

  Free gave a piercing whistle that joined with a mental pulse to summon his private float. A simple, silver disk slipped across the ground and then rose to meet him. It hung in the air beyond the link and he stepped out onto it with easy familiarity. The float powered up around him and a support field flowed from the base to enclose its sole occupant. He disappeared behind an outwardly opaque energy sheath that shaped itself to fit its owner. He sighed and collapsed against its pulsing comfort while the float hurtled into the darkening sky.

  It rose quickly above the evening frost, which was already settling across the city. Pools of shadow between the buildings below were starting to glisten with an icy sheen that would spread once the sun sank.

  However, Free was oblivious to such ordinary beauty. He reached the upper layers of the atmosphere, far above normal traffic, and sent a priority call to a BGP satellite, but was still surprised to receive an instant response. A wispy image of Lady Grace appeared in the air ahead when his float slowed to a hover. The leader of the Bureau for Genome Protection inclined her head gravely and Free managed the requisite bow in return, although it was brusque to the point of rudeness. He may have his anger under control, but only just. He preferred honesty anyway and his question to Grace was typically blunt.

  “What grip do you have on the Arck? It’s common knowledge that he treats you leniently, because you have some hold on him.”

  Lady Amber Grace raised a single, seamed eyebrow in stately surprise. “Tsk, boy, such language. No one has a grip on the Arck. I simply beg. Since the Ageing, that works surprisingly well. I’m too pathetic to be refused in my doddering last days.”

  The young leader’s anger cooled further at the sorrow in her shaking voice.

  “I’m sorry, Lady.”

  Grace sniffed. “Hmm. I think you truly are. I hope you’re grateful too. You’ll find your new ship has had a full refit. I’ve made certain-sure it’s spaceworthy and has all the best new teks.”

  Free’s face relaxed and tension left his shoulders for the first time since being called to Court. Complete modernisation of his ship was more than he had expected from Grace. It was also a dangerous defiance of the Arck and Free knew there could be only one reason for such a risk.

  “You need me,” he stated softly, playing his single card openly, convinced now that he was right. “You need me, because you’ve lost Wing.”

  Grace flicked a finger in admission. It seemed she saw no point in denying the obvious. “The BGP put eons into breeding you, boy. You have no idea how vital you are. Now, instead of two, I have just one. Nightwing is gone and that is a stellar disaster. In truth he was needed by all kres. He was more dynamic than you, more brilliant, more confident, more creative-”

  “I know,” Free interrupted softly. “That was all-times obvious. He was more what you wished for. Your first choice.”

  “Nonsense,” the old lady snapped, while her jaw quivered harder than ever. “Although your modesty can be a plus, it can also be drakking annoying. I was going to state that Wing was also more arrogant, more reckless, more thoughtless and more ulcer-inducing stubborn than you. I concentrated on him solely because it was needed. It’s time to cross the lines of your family. More than time, it’s vital. He was simply more likely to succumb to Goldown’s attractions than you.”

  “For sure,” Free agreed heatedly, “that ditch tried to kill me-”

  “Unfortunate,” Grace said, with a look of such cold calculation that something in Free’s chest froze.

  “Unfortunate?”

  “Ye,” the old lady agreed. “Unfortunate because Gold is the only remaining female from the FarFlight line and your best genetic mate.”

  Free tried to back away from the image before him, but was stopped by his float field. He was so furious that he was beyond words. He shook a finger that was stiff with outrage in an unequivocal ‘no’.

  “Yes,” Grace hissed, and he abandoned speech, knowing his voice would shake as much as his finger.

  I will never bed Goldown.

  Grace’s fronds quivered with amazement. “Of course not. How can you think I would ask such? The enmity between you is clear and I surely don’t blame you for it, boy. I would never-times expect you to touch the princess. The mating has no need to be done in person. I’m ready to facilitate. I can convey the necessary for procreation.”

  “The necessary?” Freefall choked. “Gods, call it what it is, Grace. You’re pimping for sperm. My sperm.”

  “Most perceptive. Now you know what I need from you. I refitted your ship to keep you alive. A new favor will cost more. How urgent do you want it?”

  Free could only frown in reply, caught by the very openness he was seeking. He finally knew what Grace wanted from him and it wasn’t good. Not good in the slightest. He swallowed hard against revulsion and the old lady watched intently, stroking the amber jewel at her throat in apparent unconcern. She kept her expression blank while he struggled and settled back in her seat, to presumably wait patiently for his answer. However, Free met her eye and raised a finger in agreement.

  “Ye, you’ve a deal.”

  “So fast?” she snapped, but Free refused to flinch.

  “Ye, to children. If you can fix my part of the deal first.”

  Grace rearranged the wrinkles of her face in a smile. “Certain-sure the Arck hates you, chick, but still he’ll bend to me. Join your new ship and your Sub-plus will follow.”

  Free grew very still, while the night frost seemed to reach up from the darkening planet and into his float. He shivered, but held Grace’s insubstantial gaze. “You knew about Clearwing’s arrest,” he accused, and she lifted a finger in happy assent.

  “Indeed,” she admitted, and grimaced when his expression hardened. “I heard, Freefall. I didn’t plot. This deed wasn’t mine. To set a Harvester free…” She shuddered at such a suggestion. “You think I would do such? An act so blatant and unsubtle?”

  A sharp bark of laughter escaped Free. “No,” he agreed harshly. “Your attempts to influence are mostly more subtle.”

  Grace’s lips creased in another sly grin. “Mostly.”

  “You can save Sub-Plus Pinion?”

  “Truly. Find your ship, boy, and s
he’ll find you. Do we seal?”

  Once again, Free answered without hesitation. “We seal. Send Clearwing to my ship, safe and free, in future exchange for one measure of ‘the necessary’.”

  Grace allowed herself a single wheeze of amusement at his caustic use of her own words, before snapping, “Sealed.” Her mind sent a more explicit description of the deal to her com and it linked with Free’s in formal acceptance of the bargain. The transaction was registered and Grace’s image instantly disappeared.

  Freefall collapsed against the support of his float field, but made no further concessions to exhaustion. He had a new ship and a new urgency to launching it. Clan BackBeak would move against Clear as soon as they realized she was free. That vindictive family would not let the humiliation of one of their own go unpunished. He ordered his com to release adrenaline, despite its muted protest, and his vision cleared. He looked down at the port and his float obediently dove in that direction.

  It plummeted through the atmosphere, disrupting the progress of numerous floats that belonged to less noble families. Its protective field was glowing red by the time Free scorched past the public transport links. His new ship was easy to identify amongst the orderly rows of hulls. It was more than twice the size of its nearest neighbours, which were already frosted in its shadow. He skidded to a halt before a main hatch as large as the entrance to the supplicants’ hall.

  Free’s float powered down and settled gently on the stained terramac of a much-used dock, but he stepped onto that soiled surface without a glance. His attention was on the hull that curved above him. Its violet sweep seemed to disappear overhead, merging with the purple sky. It may have been an ancient ship, its fluted diamond shape rounder than the modern fashion, but it was still impressive. It had presence and, as Grace had promised, it was in pristine condition.

  Free sniffed, then looked higher and higher again. Drak, but the old beast was impressive. She wasn’t the sleek new ship of his dreams, but still… he realized he was smiling. That was odd. Certainly since Wing left. Free’s face slipped into a more familiar frown and he took a final look at the darkening sky of his home world, before stepping into his new ship.