by Casey Lea
Falkyn was bent double panting, with his hands resting on his thighs. “Might need help.”
“Allow me,” Nikareon offered and wedged his bound arms under Falkyn's armpit. Misty grabbed the Beserk's collar and hauled him backward. She twisted the fabric in her grip and he made a choking noise.
“You're with me, Patri,” she snarled, before dragging her prisoner back to the breach. She hauled him through and stopped, but only briefly. Amber was waiting for them and she wasn't alone.
“Down, Cap,” Misty yelled as she threw Nikareon behind the nearest strut and ducked after him. She risked a look over his shoulder and past the metal post protecting them. Amber stood hunched in the middle of the dusty arena and a taller figure crouched behind her. There was a flash of gold hair when he glanced past his hostage, but he instantly tucked back down. Not an easy target.
Misty cursed automatically, while her brain was busy taking an inventory of her weapons. “I thought you promised to shoot yourself,” she yelled to Amber, who tried to make some sort of gesture in response, but her captor's fist tightened round her throat and she went limp instead.
“An exchange,” the stranger called, still crouching close to his hostage. The sharp edge of a knife slid across the hollow of Amber’s back, just far enough for her friends to see it.
“Guano,” Misty observed and no one disagreed.
“I'll swap this gat for the fossil,” the stranger promised. “Otherwise I'll blow her head off.”
“Zak,” Nikareon yelled, “don't do anything foolish. Let her go.”
Misty leaned sideways to look around the girder again. “How about I blow her head off? Then yours too?”
“Zak,” Nikareon called again, “please don't do anything stupid. My sweet daughter means it.”
Misty slammed her captive to the ground and planted a knee in the back of his neck. In her black and silver world it was almost impossible not to push harder. She yearned to dig into that pulsing orange glow, make it seep to red and then turn out every light in his disgusting body. “Stuffing a few genes into me while I was still inside my mother does not make you my father.”
Nikareon's muffled voice was as happy as ever. “That's how it usually works.”
Unfortunately, Falkyn's mind was even clearer. Mist, don't. He's not close to worth it. Think of Amber. Think of the money.
Mistwing had to close her eyes. All those targets were far too tempting. Drak Cap and his reasonable, civilized ways. Double drak Amber and her pathetic pacifism. Life would be so much easier if they just let Misty kill everyone she wanted to, quick and clean. If they just let her be the monster her mother feared she was. The monster her mother feared.
Mist heard the unexpected thunk of something being placed on the ground and looked up in time to see Falkyn rising from his discarded weapon and limping out from cover. “Cap.”
However, he ignored her, lifting his arms to either side. “I'm unarmed.”
Amber's captor snorted. “I'm drakking not.”
“So I see. We could use you on our team, Zak. Join us and you can have half the reward on the Beserk.”
“He can't be worth much.”
“Fifty million.”
“What? Who's offering that for a silver eyes too shagged out to be whorebait?”
“The IceFlights.”
There was a brief silence. “Motherdrakking gods. This needs to end-”
Zak broke off when his words were lost in a thud and a grunt. Misty ducked her head further from cover to see what was happening. Ace. He'd finally managed to slither from his party burrow and do some work. Impressive work too. He must have taken Zak down with a diving tackle, but the nearest cover was meters away. Not a bad leap.
Unfortunately, Zak arched hard enough to throw Ace off and they came to their feet together. Two swords appeared and they attacked each other instantly. Their blades clashed repeatedly, without pause or hesitation.
Misty stopped and stared. She’d never seen such a fight before. Every blow was countered and each riposte was blocked. It was like watching someone fence with a mirror. There were no advances and no retreats. The fighters stood toe-to-toe, perfectly matched. The pace increased, until their swords were a blur, but still no one broke through with a blade.
Zak decompressed a second sword and slashed at Jace recklessly, driving him toward the cliff. The clash of blades was constant as the Beserk pushed forward. Misty took half a step after them, but Ace spun around Zak, away from the drop. He swung his sword over his shoulders to guard his back and caught the blades trying to cut him down from behind. He twisted his arms while crouching, to turn and sweep one of the weapons from Zak’s hand.
Jace leapt high, while Zak jumped too. Their swords collided and they both swung a fist as well. Jace smashed his opponent in the mouth, but a punch like an anvil glanced from his chin and he staggered. He fell to a knee, before surging upright to back away and look for his enemy. He attacked as soon as he saw the stranger - still on his back in the dirt.
Zak sprang to his feet just in time to counter the blow, then took an unsteady step and Ace paused too, breathing heavily despite com support. The stranger used the back of his hand to wipe blood from his lips and frowned when he saw Ace wiping his own bloody mouth.
“Get out of my head, snot balls.”
“Glad to,” Ace sneered. “I don't usually play in garbage.”
Zak sprang forward, but this time put his full weight behind the swing. Such a wild blow was a risk, but Ace was too surprised to take advantage of it. He belatedly tried to block Zak’s sword, but its momentum was too great. Both swords flew through the air and Misty jumped aside when they clattered past.
Ace reached to his wrist for another blade, but Zak tackled him and they went down together. They grappled with each other while rolling across the plateau.
Misty raised her wrist and sighted down her com. A blast should separate them without doing permanent damage. She had to swing to follow their rapid scuffle and her eyes widened. They were rolling toward the cliff edge and it looked like Zak was trying to take Ace over it. The gat must have a death wish.
Misty locked on the pair and braced to take the shot, when a hand closed on her ankle. It jerked hard, bringing her down and her temple collected the edge of the girder. No, no, no.
Misty struggled to stay conscious, but her vision faded, until her black and silver world was stripped away. She slipped into velvet darkness, fighting all the way and abruptly she could feel again. She was struggling with someone. They were rolling across the ground, bumping and skidding while she tried to punch her opponent's head and then his gut. She looked up and the cliff was right there. They were both about to go over, while she struggled to break her enemy's grip. She looked into ice-blue eyes that were far too close. Zak's expression was stuck between a grimace and a grin, but he was clinging-
Wait. Zak? What the hail was happening? Where was she? Her enemy managed to roll on top of her again and she realized that one more turn would take them over the edge. She stopped fighting it. Instead she helped him spin, putting all of her impetus into that flip. Zak lost control and as they were thrown apart Misty punched him in the orbs.
There was a high pitched sound like air escaping a balloon and his hands loosened on her. He sailed off the plateau alone, bent double while he arced through the sky.
Unfortunately, Misty still had her own momentum to deal with. She skidded over the edge and her fingers scrabbled at its lip. They hooked on easily, long strong hands that held firm against the pressure pulling her down. She hung there and stared up at them blankly. She was still trying to understand, when her shoulders bunched and her arms drew her smoothly up over the brink.
The cliff crumbled before she could make it, a chunk breaking away under her weight. She started to fall sideways, but fingers closed round her arm and helped draw her up. She scrambled over the top and knelt there for a moment, before looking up at Falkyn in gratitude. Before she could thank him he punched
her in the shoulder. Quite hard. Hey, she thought, but no sound came out.
“You scared me, bro,” her Captain said.
“Scared myself,” Misty answered in a voice that was far too deep. Her head began to spin again, worse than when she was rolling with Zak and color leached from the world. She gritted her teeth and somehow fell without falling.
There was no sense of impact, but Misty was prone on the ground, with her face pressed into the hard-packed dust. Something was trickling down her cheeks- gods, not tears? No, thank the heavens. It was only one cheek and it smelt like blood. What a relief. She must have been knocked out, which explained why she was seeing things. She shook her head to clear the crazy visions and tried to push upright, but hardly moved.
“Stop twisting around, girlie. I might get excited and that would just be wrong.” Nikareon's voice. Right in her ear, so the weight pressing her down must be him. Yuk. She tried to buck him off, but he simply laughed and she realized she was much weaker than usual. Her com. She rubbed her wrist against the grit and it felt like sandpaper on her bare skin.
“I borrowed your com, Misty. I encourage my children to share, especially with me-”
“You-”
“Mist.”
The anguished cry had her squirming again, trying to see Ace and the weight on her back eased. She was abruptly pulled upright, straight to her feet and then off the ground. She dangled in front of Nikareon like prey being carried to a lair. Ace was already halfway across the plateau, but he skidded to a halt, while Misty swung helplessly and the Beserk chuckled in her ear.
Falkyn limped up to help Amber stand and the three huddled together staring blankly at Misty.
“For drak's sake just shoot him,” she yelled. “Shoot us both.”
Amber coughed and stepped away from Falkyn. “You need to work on this fixation with shooting hostages,” she grated and seemed to be sending Misty what she assumed was a meaningful look. Sure enough a mental message followed. Relax. They won’t hurt you if you co-operate.
Misty growled, deep in her throat and kicked back, but Nikareon shook her so hard her three idiot friends swung in front of her like a frowning pendulum.
“Bad idea,” the Beserk said and thrust out his arm to show the band around his wrist. Misty felt her hair twist with shame at the sight of her com on an enemy. “Almost as bad as shooting us both. The little one has no field and I'd hate to see her fry.”
"If you hurt her," Ace said very softly, "I will kill you."
Nikareon started to back away and Misty swayed helplessly from the hand around her neck. This time she waited until she was swinging back toward him and put all of her weight and momentum into a kick. Her heel connected squarely with his groin and he grunted, but that was all.
Ace advanced another pace and Nikareon raised the com to her temple. “Tut tut, to both of you. Play nice and this will all end well.”
“Only if you die sooner-” Misty began, but forgot her threat to stare at the cliff. Her three friends felt her shock and spun, so they all saw Zak return to the plateau. He rose steadily from the abyss with his cloak billowing around him. No, it wasn't a cloak. It was a pair of teal wings and a single flap sent him soaring over her companions to land lightly beside Nikareon. The wings flipped shut and their tops folded to drape over his shoulders. He clasped them together in front and the disguise was complete.
Misty twisted her head awkwardly, trying to see more of those amazing wings. What sort of alien was this guy? He stared back coldly and she remembered. He was the cruel and murderous sort.
Her fronds noticed Ace take another long stride and Zak's head whipped round. “If you wish the gat to live, back up.”
Ace stopped and the two glared at each other, neither prepared to give ground. Falkyn limped to join Ace and Misty's lips curled in delight. About time. They needed to take these bustwings down. Hard.
“You can go,” Falkyn offered and Misty gaped. He had to be joking. He sent sincerity through his fronds and she started kicking and squirming in mid-air. This was guano.
“Do I... have to...free... myself?” she grunted, but Falkyn ignored her.
“We won't follow. And you will release Misty unharmed.”
The force behind his final words hit everyone hard and Zak stiffened, while Nikareon clutched convulsively at the back of her neck. However, the Beserk answered without hesitation. “Deal. I swear the girl goes free and untouched. We'll leave her at the docks.”
Nikareon backed away again and Misty's crew let him go. She hung her head and closed her eyes. She couldn't watch while the two bustwings escaped. She was carried with them and her hair writhed around her. Yet, despite her failure she pushed aside shame and made a promise of her own. She would find these two again and when she did she would kill them. It was that simple.
They reached the gantry leading to Main Port and Nikareon released Misty. Zak instantly moved closer, so she smiled sweetly at him, but made no effort to escape.
“Can I have my com back?” she asked. “Please?”
Zak ignored her, but Nikareon chuckled indulgently. “Why such a foolish question, little one? Of course you can’t. Ah, was that a code phrase? An order telling your com to release tracers?”
Zak swore, followed closely by a curse from Misty and Nikareon laughed.
“How did you know?” she demanded.
“Experience,” he answered, dragging her onward through the crowd that parted ahead of him. “Also, you’re not a ‘please’ type. In future, choose more convincing phrases for your com override. You should join us, Misty. There’s much I could teach you.”
Misty choked and stumbled, but Zak caught her under the elbow to steer her firmly on. “If you truly want to teach me,” she said, “why don’t you stay?”
Nikareon paused, but only to sweep her from her feet. “I’d love to stay,” he said softly, “but my other children are waiting for me.”
Misty’s shock was so great she went slack in her captor’s arms. The mutilating baby-killer had children? That was so unfair it froze her to the core and when she spoke each word was a chunk of ice bobbing in an arctic flow from her fronds.
“I’ll find them, I swear. Your chicks. I’ll hunt them down and then tell the Harvesters so they can claim them. No doubt they’ll break them soon enough.”
Nikareon said nothing, but there was a sharp pain in the back of her head and darkness returned.
33
The Last Chance
Lamidia stalked into her room and dragged her fingers through her hair, tugging strands back from her face. It was gatting awkward stuff without a hair field, but all of the metabolic energy she had would be used for combat mode until... well, until Daddy came of course. Luck willing. Her pulse slowed and her voice was no longer shaking when she spoke to her console.
“Direct all ship's energy to a defensive field around this room.”
“Warning,” the computer replied with a completely unnecessary siren pulse, “such action will leave the rest of the Last Chance unprotected. It will also render the crew's bottleneck and ambush defense ineffective.”
“JUST DO IT.”
Lamidia buried her face in her hands, hair and all. Why did she have to think of everything? Didn't the drakking console know she was the priority? An explosion rocked the ship and she staggered, almost turning a heel. She clicked her way toward the bed, balancing more carefully in her boots, but suddenly stopped. Someone was lying on her mattress.
Gods drakkit. Had her last hand-slave fainted again? Lamidia dashed forward in sudden fury, her boots snarling against the stone floor as combat mode drove her across the spacious chamber, past the seating pit and on to her canopied bed in seconds. Her stiletto heels suddenly squealed, screeching against the tiles before digging deep, when their owner braked to a frantic halt. She teetered at the end of twin gouges in the floor, but for once the damage to her room went unnoticed.
Whoever was lying on her bed was too long. Far too long. A pair of fe
et tucked into combat boots and crossed at the ankles jutted completely off the end of the mattress. Lamidia gasped a small, ragged breath, before wobbling sideways to look past the bed's drapes. The intruder was young, male and very relaxed. His golden hair formed a halo against her black bedding, while his hands were tucked with fingers locked, behind his head. Trailing from behind his ears were two light-blue fronds.
Lamidia bit back a whimper and teetered on the brink of fleeing. What was a Beserk doing in her bed? And where the Luck was his handler?
The young man turned with a friendly smile and his lips pursed appreciatively. “Name's Zak. I'm here to save your ass. Though now that I see it, I could find further use for it too.”
“Zakareon!” The new voice made Lamidia start and both of her ankles twisted this time.
She began to fall, but firm hands caught her and she looked up into familiar features. “Nikareon.”
“Lady. Please excuse my son. I raised him to be strong, smart, self-reliant and shockingly rude. Unfortunately, I only achieved one of the four, but in that he excels. However, by the panic in your pretty eyes I assume you’re distracted. You seem to have intruders among your privates.”
Lamidia jerked back. “You stay away from my privates.”
Zak chuckled and Nikareon rolled his eyes. “Did I say privates? I meant pirates. It seems your raid has gone awry.”
Zak laughed again. “Awry? It's pissed head-on into a southerly.”
An explosion rocked the ship and Lamidia had to cling to Nikareon to stay upright.
“That sounded drakking close,” Zak observed happily. “Do you need to lie down?” He patted the bed beside him.
Lamidia's face creased and her voice didn't sound like hers at all. “I need off this ship.” She gripped Nikareon with desperate strength. “Please, for old comrades' sake.” He simply stared at her with a strange expression. Was that distaste? Disgust? Lamidia straightened and released him. The Last Chance rocked again, but she managed to keep her balance. “You must be here for a reason. Will you aid me or not?”
