Transcender Trilogy Complete Box Set

by Vicky Savage

  I raise my eyes to hers. Unchecked tears spill down her cheeks. She knows he’s dead. Of course he’s dead. He fell fifty feet.

  “Send me back in time,” I frantically plead. “You’ve got to send me back in time so I can save him.”

  “You know that’s impossible, Jaden. You cannot go back to a time you’ve already lived.”

  Shaking my head slowly, I mutter, “No, no, no. There has to be a way. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to die. He’s supposed to live a long life and save that godforsaken planet. He’s having a child in a few months. He can’t just die like that.”

  She pulls in a shaky breath. “We must get you out of these clothes, my dear. We’ll hear soon enough.”

  I focus on my bloody riding pants. “Patrick’s blood,” I say. “He’s dead too. Everyone I love ends up dead.”

  “You’re not responsible for these deaths, Jaden. IUGA is. None of this would have happened if they hadn’t tried to control events for their own nefarious ends. Let us place the blame where it rightfully belongs.”

  She walks to a glass-shelved corner cabinet and removes two glasses and a crystal decanter filled with dark amber liquid. She pours a small amount of liquid into a glass and gives it to me. “Drink it. It will calm you.”

  “What is it?” I ask as she pours herself a glass.

  “Very fine brandy.”

  She takes a long draw and I do the same. It blazes through my already tender insides, stealing my breath. “Yeow! That burns.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I should have warned you.” She takes my glass. “Jaden, dear, we have some time before the others return with Ralston. Why don’t you shower and change while we wait? I’ll show you to your quarters.”

  “I don’t want to shower. I want to know what’s going on. I’m about to crawl out of my skin with worry.”

  “I understand. But sitting and stewing will not make the time pass more quickly. You might as well do something to take your mind off things until we receive an update.”

  “All right. Do you have something I can wear?” I ask, realizing I have nothing but the clothes on my back.

  “Yes, dear. We’ve put together a few things for you until you can make your own purchases. Come with me.”

  I follow her as if in a trance, up to the third floor and down a hallway. She opens a door leading to an apartment and gestures me inside. The floors are light oak, the walls are cream-colored and devoid of decoration. The place smells strongly of new paint and cleaning products. I wonder vaguely if anyone lived here before.

  “This is your apartment,” she says. “It’s very neutral at the moment, but you will have the opportunity and the funds to decorate it any way you wish.”

  I nod without a word. I don’t freaking care about interior design at the moment. Someone’s taken a sledge-hammer to my life. The left over bits and pieces don’t seem to matter much right now.

  She shows me to the bedroom. “I selected some dresses for you and put them in your closet. You’ll find underthings and pajamas in the dresser drawers. The bathroom is fully stocked, but should you need anything, let me know, and I will get it for you at once.”

  “Thank you,” I say. My voice sounds detached and alien, as if it’s coming from someone else. The weight of my fear and desolation threatens to crush me. Tears well in my eyes again and I tremble uncontrollably. “Narowyn, can I ask a favor?”

  “Of course, dear. What is it?”

  “Will you wait for me while I shower? I don’t want to be left alone in this strange apartment. I’m so scared.”

  She wraps her arms around me with no thought for my bloody clothes. “I am here for you. Take all the time you need. I promise I will not leave you for a moment.”

  I close the door to the bathroom and turn on the shower. The room is large and modern, but if I focus on this sterile, unfamiliar place as my new home, I’ll go stark raving mad. I grit my teeth and try to anesthetize my brain to any and all thoughts.

  Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, I yank off my boots. The blood on my pants has partially congealed and the fabric sticks to my legs as I pull them off. I don’t allow it to affect me. I stay numb. But when a folded piece of paper topples from my shirt to the floor, I come completely unglued. Peering up at me is the face of a youthful Ryder Blackthorn.

  Clutching the sketch to my breast, I lie on the cool tile floor and weep my heart out—for him and for myself and for the utter senselessness of it all.

  EIGHTEEN

  True to her word, Narowyn waits for me, even though I take well over an hour to shower and dress. I find her in the kitchen. Trays of sandwiches, vegetables, and cookies have been set out on the counter.

  “I thought you might be hungry,” she says gently.

  My first impulse is to refuse, but I haven’t eaten all day, and the brandy is burning a hole in my stomach. “Thanks. That’s kind of you. Would it be okay if we filled our plates and ate in your office? I’d like to wait there for news, if that’s all right.”

  “Certainly.” She removes two white plates from the generously supplied cupboard and hands one to me.

  I place two sandwich quarters on top along with some carrots and cucumbers and a huge oatmeal cookie.

  “I have ice water in my office if that suits you. Or we can have tea sent in if you prefer.”

  “Water’s fine,” I say.

  We carry our plates down the elevator to Narowyn’s office and seat ourselves in her comfortable chairs.

  I nibble on my food and stare at the floor, forcing my mind to remain blank and not wander into places where it shouldn’t go.

  “Forgive me for bringing up a point of business on a day like today,” Narowyn says as I crunch on a carrot. “But I thought it might put your mind at ease to know that while you were showering I had our lawyers file the papers with the Inter-Galactic Confederation Court, setting out all of IUGA’s offenses and requesting an emergency restraining order.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “If necessary, we will amend the complaint later to include any new information we receive.”

  “Well, here’s some information you might want,” I say. “Patrick was killed by an IUGA agent—an automaton. The thing was posing as a Royal Guardsman in an effort to get at me.”

  She shakes her head. “Simply outrageous. In direct violation of Confederation articles. They’ll most certainly deny everything, but we will include it.”

  “I got a photo of him if that helps.”

  “Goodness, how did you manage that?’

  “Ralston gave me his extra set of glasses. That’s how I knew the guy was IUGA in the first place. They’re in the pocket of my pants.”

  “I imagine that will be most helpful to our case.”

  The door to Narowyn’s office swings open, and Captain Watterson, Urick, and Asher file in.

  I toss my plate aside and jump to my feet, the unspoken question on my lips.

  Asher’s stormy green eyes meet mine, and he shakes his head sadly. “I’m sorry, Jaden, he’s gone.”

  I inhale sharply and fresh tears follow the trail of the thousands before them. “What about the rest of my family?”

  “Your father and brother are fine,” Asher says. “Everyone who went to Old Unicoi is safe. Lady Lorelei’s ascension to the throne was automatic when the princess’s body was discovered. She’s on her way back to Warrington Palace.”

  “I’m afraid the clean-up’s going to take a while,” Captain Watterson says. “The palace was badly damaged by explosives, and the casualties were higher than expected. All in all, though, it could have been worse.”

  “Where’s Ralston?” I ask.

  The three men exchange uneasy glances. “He didn’t show up, Jade,” Asher says.

  “What do you mean, he didn’t show up?” My voice sounds like the screech of a mad woman.

  “We waited as long as we could. We believe IUGA has him,” he says.

  This is more than I can handle i
n one day. “Nooo,” I wail. “They’ll destroy him.”

  “We’ll find him,” Urick pipes up.

  “How will you find him?” I scoff.

  His wolf eyes fasten on me. “You do not need the details. But I assure you we’ll find him.”

  For some reason, I believe him. “All right. Please let me know when you do,” I say more calmly.

  He bobs his head once.

  “What’s going to happen to Domerica now?” I ask.

  “Shall we sit for a moment?” Narowyn says, waving a hand toward the chairs.

  Everyone but Urick finds a seat. “If you will excuse me,” he says. “I have a missing automaton to locate.”

  “Of course. Thank you, Urick.” Narowyn says. He slips quietly out the door.

  “Jaden, we believe Domerica is currently in a strong position vis-a-vis Dome Noir, in light of the capture of the two princes and the Grand Duke,” Narowyn says. “The opportunities for avoiding war and remaining a top world power are great. But whatever happens must be allowed to unfold of its own accord. We must be cautious regarding the extent of our interest in Domerica.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

  “Currently, as Transcenders, we are given great freedom to visit other realms and conduct our research as we see fit. We must not open ourselves up to an accusation of meddling in the affairs of that country. It’s exactly what we’ve accused IUGA of doing.”

  I scowl at her. “I have no intention of meddling in the affairs of Domerica. I’m interested in its welfare. I think that’s understandable.”

  “It certainly is,” she says. “I do not mean to imply you would do anything inappropriate. But remember you have signed a contract agreeing never to return to Domerica.”

  “What’re you talking about? You think that contract’s still valid after everything IUGA has done?”

  “That is for the court to say, not me. Try to understand, the IGC is a court of equity. We must go to the court with clean hands. We cannot provide IUGA with grounds to state that you also breached the contract, or worse, that you violated the Transcender Code of Conduct.”

  Raising my palms to my temples, I snap, “Okay, I get it. I can’t go back to Domerica right now.”

  “I’m sorry, dear. It’s only that you still have much to learn about this universe and the Transcenders’ place in it. We operate under a strict code. But you will have ample time for all of that once you have returned from your trip to Connecticut.”

  The mention of my home is like a soothing caress to my battered heart. “Will I get to go soon?”

  “Oh yes,” Narowyn says. “In fact, you must return next week. The thirty-day time period you were allotted at the beginning of your agreement with IUGA expires in four days. You must return home or your life there will resume without you. That is the way the contract was originally written.”

  “The sooner the better,” I say. “Do you have a cover story for me yet?”

  “Yes, it’s all arranged. But let’s discuss it tomorrow. It’s late, and I’m certain you’re exhausted. You should rest now.”

  I grip the arms of my chair, irrationally alarmed at being left alone.

  “Is that all right, dear?” she says.

  “Yes, but please don’t make me sleep in that apartment tonight. I … I can’t be by myself right now.”

  “Stay with me,” Asher offers. “I have two bedrooms, and TV, and ice cream. I’d be glad for the company.”

  “Really? Could I?” I love Asher’s place, and at least it’s familiar.

  “Come on.” He stands and offers me his hand.

  I take it gratefully. We say goodnight to Narowyn and Captain Watterson, and I follow Asher back to the third floor. We pass two people in the hall, but I just look away. I’m not fit for polite conversation tonight.

  Asher’s apartment is two doors down from mine. “Guess we’re going to be neighbors,” I say.

  “I’ll try not to play my music too loud,” he says with a crooked smile.

  NINETEEN

  Asher and I sit on his white sofa eating mango mint chip ice cream out of the carton and watching a mindless sitcom about a blended Arumel family. The mom’s a rocket scientist, the dad grows orchids, and the kids are adorably obnoxious. The family has an automaton that’s treated like a treasured old uncle and a dog from another planet that walks on its hind legs and understands only French. It’s kind of like Modern Family meets The Jetsons.

  The parts I understand are kind of funny, and for a minute or two here and there I almost forget the reality of my screwed up life—newly widowed after only five days of marriage, my husband lying dead a million light years away and me forbidden to go to him, Ralston MIA and probably nothing but a mangled heap of circuits by now.

  Eventually shock and bone-deep exhaustion overtake me and I doze off, my head resting on the arm of the sofa. The white noise of the TV in the background is my lullaby. I don’t know how long I’ve slept when Asher shakes me by the shoulder.

  “Here,” he says, handing me a blue t-shirt.

  “What’s this?”

  “Something to sleep in. Your room’s the last door on the right. See you in the morning.”

  I drag myself down the short hallway, my body so heavy it feels like I’m wearing a lead coat. Not bothering with the t-shirt, I pull down the sheets and stuff myself inside fully clothed. Blessed sleep slowly claims my tortured mind.

  “Jaden, Jaden, help me.” It’s Ryder. He’s imprisoned inside a thick glass ball, high on a mountain top in Domerica.

  I reach for my katana, but it’s not at my side. I frantically scour the area for a rock or something to use to break open the ball. I find nothing. I beat on the outside with my fist, but it does no good. Then, without warning, the ball begins to roll down the slope of the mountain, picking up speed as it goes. I scramble after it, but my boot heel catches on a rock, and I tumble head over heels down the steep incline, then out into starlit space, then beyond space into darkness so dense, so impenetrable I cannot see. I cannot breathe. I cannot survive.

  I shoot straight up in bed gasping for air. For a moment, I can’t remember where I am. Then it all floods back to me. Grief billows out of me filling the room with intense bleakness. The pain is so suffocating I’m sure it will kill me. I want it to kill me. But I don’t want to die alone.

  Scrambling out of bed, I fumble my way down the unlit hallway until I find Asher’s room. “Ash,” I utter into the darkness.

  “Jade, what is it?”

  “I don’t know if I can make it through this.”

  “Come here,” he says softly. I find his arms, and he wraps me up firmly. “You are a strong woman. You will make it through.”

  “I’m sorry to be so pathetic.”

  He scoots over and makes a place for me on the bed. “Shh. Just lie down. Try to sleep. I’m right here.”

  “I think this may kill me,” I say, clinging to him.

  “You’re not going to die. I’m right here.”

  The presence of another living, breathing human lying next to me helps me feel less vulnerable. Gradually, my fear subsides, and I’m able to relax into a shallow, dreamless sleep.

  When I wake, Asher’s gone. For a moment, I teeter on the brink of despair, remembering that Ryder’s dead and I’m still alive. But then I catch sight of sunlight streaming through the bedroom’s white curtains. The simple beauty of the natural golden light touches me. It’s been a while since I’ve seen pure, unfiltered, sunshine. It’s so normal, yet so profoundly miraculous. This is something good about still being alive. This is something I can cling to, rather than dwelling on what I’ve lost. So I resolve to begin a mental list of things to be grateful for. Unsullied sunshine, not refracted by a dome shell is number one on the list.

  I climb out of bed and attempt to straighten out my slept-in dress. The problem with linen is that it prefers to be wrinkled. To hell with it. Why fight the natural order of things? I pad into the bathroom and use
Asher’s comb to tame my rowdy hair. A quick check of his cabinets fails to turn up any mouthwash or toothpaste, so I’ll just have to be careful not to breathe on him.

  I follow the sounds of puttering in the kitchen. Asher hands me a mug of coffee with milk and sugar when I enter.

  “Mornin’, sleepyhead,” he says. “How about some breakfast?”

  “Mmm, this coffee’s great.” I gulp it greedily. “What are you making?” I notice sliced mushrooms, tomatoes, and onions on a red plastic cutting board.