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The Girl from the Stars Series Boxed Set

Page 27

by Cheree Alsop


  Tariq and Brandis walked with her down the hallway in silence.

  “I’ll be right outside the door,” Tariq finally gave in.

  “I’ll have guards ready in case he tries anything,” Brandis said. “One word, and he’ll be taken down.”

  Brandis’ wristband beeped again. “Captain Hart,” he said.

  “Commandant, we have landed and your father is requesting your immediate presence.”

  “Already on our way,” Brandis replied.

  He led them to a mobile hallway that extended from the Eos to the landing hub. As soon as they set foot on Corian, a troop of guards fell in around them. They were escorted through a busy central station where everyone rushed past without slowing to look at the guards. Men and women in black, green, and blue uniforms pushed huge sealed boxes, a group of Crustacites carried ammunition crates in their claws, and several Torkans towered over the crowd; they treaded carefully to avoid stepping on anyone with their round feet.

  A uniformed Calypsan juggling a stack of crates ran into a Torkan’s huge, leathery leg. Liora watched over her shoulder as the big Calypsan apologized to the even larger Torkan.

  “Are you alright?” Brandis asked.

  Liora turned her attention back to where they were going.

  “I’ve never seen a Torkan in real life,” she said. “Malivian said he had one lined up once, but the deal fell through.”

  “Who’s Malivian?”

  The question sent a cold sensation through Liora’s stomach. Tariq’s hand slipped around hers from her other side. She glanced at him. His understanding expression eased her tension.

  “He’s, uh, someone from my past,” she said. “He’s gone now.”

  Brandis had the sense not to ask more questions. They stepped onto a hovercraft inside the central station and the guards fell in around them. A few minutes later, they stopped at a huge door.

  “Credentials please,” a woman at the elevated desk near the door asked.

  Brandis handed her his wristband. She scanned the band, then pushed a button. The door beside her slid open. She gave Brandis back his band.

  “Welcome home, Commandant Day.”

  “Thank you,” Brandis replied.

  He motioned for Tariq and Liora to follow him inside. The door shut, leaving the guards on the other side. Their footsteps echoed along the hallway as Liora and Tariq walked with Brandis to the door at the end. It slid open when they drew near. Brandis led them down a small aisle which opened up into a room far bigger than Liora had anticipated.

  “Chief Decerpo, may I introduce my son Brandis and my daughter Liora.”

  It took Liora a moment to locate who was speaking within the huge room. Rows upon rows of seats lined the walls; half of these seats were occupied with more Damaclans than Liora had ever seen in one place. The other half was filled with uniformed members of the Day fleet who silently watched the proceedings.

  Near the middle of the floor stood a raised dais. Two forms waited on it.

  The man Liora had spoken to on the Eos screen gave her a warm smile. A hot and cold sensation ran over her skin at the fact that she was in the same room as her father for the first time in her life. He stood close to Brandis’ height and his gray hair was combed back in the merchant fashion. He wore a tailored suit that contained the same blue and silver colors as the uniforms of his staff, and his bearing held a pride and self-assuredness Liora had seldom seen.

  He nodded at her when they took the dais, reminding her that the visit was not a reunion, but to forestall a war. Liora nodded at the tattooed Damaclan who watched her with an expression of doubt. The Damaclan wore the robes of a desert clan, and his face had been weathered by sunlight. His gaze didn’t reveal any of the emotions he felt at their situation.

  “Thank you, Senior Commandant,” the Damaclan chief said with a grave nod.

  Damaclans didn’t give any weight to formalities, so Liora skipped them and met the chief’s gaze squarely.

  “Chief Decerpo, I understand there has been a misunderstanding regarding my position aboard the Eos.”

  The chief studied her silently for a moment. Liora fell into the patience she had learned as a child. One didn’t push a Damaclan to answer; one waited until the answer was given.

  The Damaclan finally nodded. “A misunderstanding is possible. First, I ask that you prove your heritage.”

  Liora had been expecting his request. She pushed up the sleeve of her shirt and revealed the red band around her right forearm. Whispers ran through the Damaclan side of the room.

  “I am the daughter of Tenieva of Obruo’s clan,” Liora recited the words her mother had taught her so long ago. “Upon my mother’s death, I became the one true queen to the Damaclan race.”

  The chief withdrew a blade from beneath his robes.

  Exclamations rushed through the bystanders. Members of the Day staff surged forward from the crowd. Liora’s father stepped between her and the Damaclan.

  “It’s alright,” Liora said. She placed a hand on her father’s arm. “It’s tradition,” she reassured him.

  “Are you sure?” her father asked.

  Liora nodded. “Trust me.”

  He took a step back, but Liora knew it wasn’t her imagination that made her father stand closer than he had before. A glance to her other side showed the same with Tariq and Brandis.

  The Damaclan appeared unaffected by the humans’ suspicion. He held out his knife and said, “My blade is your blade.”

  Liora accepted the dagger. She pricked her finger with the tip and rubbed the drop of blood along the lizard carved into the hilt.

  “Your blade is accepted,” she said.

  She handed the weapon back. The Damaclan chief held the knife loosely in his hand.

  “You say that your stay on the Eos is by choice; you are not being held prisoner?” Chief Decerpo asked.

  “That’s correct,” Liora told him. “I am on the Eos and with the Day family by choice.” She glanced at Brandis and saw the smile that crossed his face. “Chief Obruo’s information is incorrect. Return to your planets and your families.”

  Chief Decerpo nodded. “As you wish, my queen.”

  He turned away without another word. At his motion, the other Damaclans began to file from the room.

  Liora wanted to stay; more than anything, she wanted to talk to her father, but there was no time.

  “Father, I’ve got something I need to do aboard the Eos,” she said apologetically.

  Surprise and confusion showed on his face. “Something more urgent than meeting the man who has missed you all these years?” he asked with a lightening to his tone that could pass for an attempt at humor despite the situation.

  Liora nodded. “I’m sorry. I’ll do everything I can to come right back, but at this moment, more is on the line than I can possibly explain.”

  To his credit, her father smiled at her. “Do what you need to, Liora, my daughter. I will be here anxiously awaiting your return. I’ve missed out on a lifetime of experiences I need to make up for; a few more minutes aren’t going to change that.”

  Liora surprised herself by rising up on her tiptoes and kissing him on the cheek. She grabbed Tariq’s waiting hand and they hurried back out of the room.

  “That was hard,” she said as they broke into a run.

  “I believe it,” Tariq replied. “But you conducted yourself well. He’s proud of you.”

  Liora shook her head as they darted past the security table and out through the main concourse. “He barely knows me. We’ve got a lot to discuss. But first….”

  “Obruo,” Tariq finished.

  “He’s here,” Hyrin’s voice said into the earpiece Liora wore. “He’s searching for the orb.”

  “We’re on our way,” Liora replied.

  A hovercraft waited for them, courtesy of Brandis’ foresight.

  “Your escort to the Eos, Officer Day,” a uniformed Hennonite said.

  Liora’s hands gripped the bars ti
ghtly when the craft surged forward. Tariq put his arms around her, holding her in place.

  “It’s going to be alright,” he said quietly in her ear; he sounded as if he was attempting to convince them both.

  Liora nodded. She shoved down the nerves that made her stomach tighten and focused on their path. It seemed that they reached the Eos faster than they had left it.

  Liora and Tariq ran up the hallway. When they reached the Eos, another, smaller craft waited.

  “Hold on,” Maldin, the bald man who had shown Liora such kindness, told them. “Commandant Day said speed is of the essence.” He slid his hand up a control board and the small craft sped forward.

  They reached the holding bay faster than Liora would have thought possible given the Eos’ massive size. She and Tariq jumped off and ran across the bay toward the Kratos. The ship appeared empty, but Liora knew Devren, Hyrin, O’Tule, and O’Tule’s newfound boyfriend, Zran, waited on the bridge which was locked down in case Obruo attempted to take the entire starship.

  Liora led the way to the transportation chamber. A glance inside showed that it had been used recently. She and Tariq walked silently toward the cargo hold. It was the logical place to look for something like the orb given the size of the Omne Occasus.

  A sound caught Liora’s attention. She held up a hand and Tariq stopped. Liora took a step forward, but instinct stilled her advance. She grabbed Tariq’s shirt and pulled his face to hers. She kissed him silently on the lips.

  “I love you,” she whispered. “Please don’t follow me.”

  She let him go and stepped into the cargo hold.

  “Hello, Obruo,” she said as the door slid shut behind her.

  The Damaclan rose from his search through the crates. When he turned, his face was a mask of fury.

  “Where is it?” he demanded.

  “Where is what?” Liora asked.

  His hands twisted into fists as though he wanted to strangle her.

  “Don’t play coy with me, Liora. Give me the orb.”

  “No.”

  Obruo stared at her. Anger clouded his face and sparked in his eyes. “What did you say?”

  Liora met his glare. “I don’t have to listen to you anymore.”

  Obruo withdrew the black-hilted bone knife from his sheath. The sight of the Tessari dragon carved into the hilt sent a shudder down Liora’s spine. She saw it from Tariq’s memory, plunging again and again into Tariq’s wife Dannan and cutting her open from her bellybutton to her throat.

  Before he could take a step forward, Liora shoved the emotions toward him. The fear, pain, and heartache Liora had felt, multiplied by the sight of the knife, slammed into Obruo. He staggered backwards and his eyes widened.

  “Demon,” he yelled. “Stay away from me!”

  Liora advanced toward him. She added more fear to the emotions, battering him so that he cowered against the crates with his hands up as though he could shield himself from her attack.

  “You’ve hurt too many people, Obruo. Do you feel it?” She added the pain she had felt when she heard of the Gaulded Zero Twenty-one being destroyed by Obruo’s hand, the loss of Zran’s mother who had shown Liora such kindness, and the death of all the merchants and craftsman aboard the manmade mass.

  She showed him her mother and the clan dead along the streets of their home.

  “It wasn’t my fault,” he protested. “I tried to stop it.” His voice rose. “You were supposed to stop it. You were the last hope.”

  “The last sacrifice,” she replied. The word had a foul taste.

  Obruo shook his head. “They bargained and I lost.”

  Liora paused. “What are you talking about?”

  “The Nameless Ones,” he replied. His voice shook when he said their name. “They weren’t appeased.”

  Liora had to know what he meant. They had slain her mother, her clan, and set her on the path she walked. She needed to know why.

  Liora set a hand on Obruo’s shoulder. The Damaclan flinched away from her, but she didn’t let go. She searched his memories, sorting through them like an adarok digging for a bomb.

  Chapter 7

  “You have failed us.”

  The familiar whisper sent chills along Liora’s arms.

  The memory solidified. She saw Obruo kneeling at the base of the cave the children of the clan were told never to enter. The voices swirled around him.

  “You failed your word.”

  “Your clan will suffer.”

  “You will lose all you care about.”

  “No,” Obruo pleaded. “My clan has searched every system in the Macrocosm. The orbs aren’t to be found.”

  “The ship,” one hissed.

  “The Red Planet,” another said.

  “There are thousands upon thousands of red planets. If you only knew how to narrow it down…” Obruo began.

  “If we knew that, we would have the orbs already,” came the reply. “As it is, you have failed. We will take the lives of your children to keep us strong until the orbs surface. One by one, you will lose them until your clan and everything you hold dear is destroyed.”

  “No!” Obruo protested, but the rush of the Nameless Ones flowed past him toward the clan who worked in their homes and village not knowing the destruction that was flooding down to them.

  “A sacrifice,” Obruo called. “I’ll give you a sacrifice!”

  “We’ll consider it,” a Nameless replied. “Until then, watch the blood run through your sacred streets.”

  Obruo ran to the home he shared with his wife Tenieva and his mongrel daughter. He shoved the door open and Liora’s breath caught at the sight of her mother standing in the living room.

  “They’re coming,” Obruo said, gasping for air. “We need a sacrifice!”

  “I won’t let you take her,” Liora’s mother argued.

  “They’ll destroy everything,” Chief Obruo shouted from their kitchen.

  “We can stop them,” Tenieva replied.

  “Not like this,” Obruo growled. “Not without losing everything of value to us.”

  “We are Damaclan. We’ll fight back and rebuild.”

  “We don’t have to fight back. We can sacrifice one life for many. That’s the way it has to be,” Obruo said.

  “But not her.”

  “She has the blood,” Obruo pointed out.

  “But not your blood,” Liora’s mother replied.

  “That’s why she’s got to go,” Obruo argued. “She’ll tear us apart, Tenieva. She’s already done it.”

  “Don’t make me go, don’t make me go, don’t make me go.”

  The words filled Obruo’s mind and a shiver ran down his spine. There was only one place the words could come from. He burst into the bedroom and grabbed Liora by the arm, dragging her from the bed. “Enough with the mind tricks!” he shouted. “Take your black magic and rid this place of evil!”

  He pulled her kicking and screaming from their home.

  “Help me, Mother!” the little girl cried.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” Tenieva called in a sob.

  “Accept our sacrifice!” Obruo yelled.

  Blood and carnage lined the cement and tile paths of the village. Bodies of little girls and boys lay tossed aside and forgotten. Obruo didn’t know if there was anyone left, but he had to save what children he could. The little girl at his side turned her head, burying it against him.

  Chief Obruo dropped down to his knees next to Liora. He grabbed her newly tattooed arms tight and forced her to look at him.

  “Liora, your clan needs you.”

  “You said they’re not my clan,” she replied, her voice shaking.

  The chief shook his head. “Damaclan blood runs in your veins. Even though it isn’t pure, we raised you as our own. You completed the training.” His hand touched the fresh tattoo on the side of her neck. “You are worthy. Go protect our people from the shadows.”

  Liora’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m afraid.”

&nbs
p; A shriek pierced the air. Flames began anew on the far side of the village.

  “If you don’t go, the clan will be lost,” Obruo said. He wanted to hit her, to slap her, to do anything to make her go to them. The fresh tattoos along her neck and arms were another symbol of how she had bested him. He couldn’t wait to be rid of her forever.

  Finally, she turned. Obruo gave her a little shove in the direction of the screams.

  “Save us, Liora. Repay your bloodright,” he called.

  Obruo watched her walk between the burning houses of his clan. He wanted to check on them, to see who was still alive, but he had to make sure Liora did what she was supposed to. For once in her life, the little girl would make herself useful.

  He watched the shadows with red eyes and clawed hands rush to her.

  “Take me,” he heard Liora say.

  A sliver of respect for her bravery surfaced in his chest. He smothered it immediately.

  The shadow slowed and turned. The Nameless One made a little sound, a half-shriek, half-whistle, and dozens of Nameless Ones surrounded Liora.

  Claws dripped the blood of Obruo’s people as they circled the little girl.

  “Taste,” one of the shadows whispered.

  “Taste,” the word rippled through the rest of them like a summer breeze rustling the grass.

  “Taste.” The word sent a shiver down Obruo’s spine.

  Fangs flashed and sunk into her throat opposite the tattoo. Young Liora screamed and struggled at the pain. Obruo wanted to hold her there, to make sure she didn’t fight them, though he wasn’t sure how anyone could fight the insubstantial phantoms.

  To Obruo’s horror, the shadow reared back, its fangs slicked with black instead of red.

  “They tried to trick us,” the shadow shrieked, its voice so terrible Obruo covered his ears.

  Liora’s blood shouldn’t have mattered; it shouldn’t have changed things.

  “They tried to feed us half-blood,” another said.

  “They have sealed their fate.”

  “No!” Liora cried.

  All of the shadows looked at her. Obruo stared in awe.

  “I-I’m the last one,” Liora said, her voice shaking. “I’m the last child alive. The rest of them are gone.” She bit back a sob. “You’ve taken them all. I have to be enough.”

 

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