by L O Addison
Which was hopefully soon. His bleeding had stopped, which was a good sign, but his broken ribs needed to be looked at by an expert. Shattered ribs were tricky, dangerous things, capable of slicing straight through internal organs. So far, Matteo had no serious trouble breathing and no sign of fever, so Kaylin was pretty sure his broken ribs hadn’t caused much damage. But the breaks were low on his ribcage, making it perfectly possible that they’d nicked something vital.
“You need sleep, too.”
Kaylin blinked at the sound of Beck’s voice and looked up at him. He was staring down at her with a stern expression, although she could see concern crinkling the corners of his eyes.
“I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head.
Beck gave a small grunt of disbelief. Kaylin ignored him and packed up the med kit, but as soon as she stood up, her exhaustion hit her in a smothering wave.
Beck nudged at her shoulder, nodding toward a darkened corner of the barn. “Get some sleep. It’s probably going to be a few hours before we can get in contact with the base and get a transport.”
She shook her head. “I’ll sleep later.”
He shot her a sharp look. “I don’t want you injecting people with drugs when you’re shuffling around like a zombie.” He nudged at her again, but the warmth of his palm was gentle against her shoulder. “Go. Sleep.”
Kaylin sighed and gave a relenting nod, too tired to argue. But then she opened the medical kit again and fished through it until she found two vitals monitors. They were small, square patches of translucent plastic with a web of wires running through them.
She knelt down and gently smoothed one onto Matteo’s forearm, and digital numbers leaped to life on the monitor’s surface. Blood pressure, heart rate, temperature, oxygen levels. They all looked stable, not much different than they had a minute ago when Kaylin had checked them. But the monitor would keep track of them while she slept and alert her with an alarm if any of his vitals crashed.
She handed the other monitor to Beck. “Go put this on Lio,” she said. “If the alarm goes off, wake me up right away.”
Beck took it from her, his brow crinkled in a thoughtful expression. Then he quietly said, “I don’t know why you’re helping them. But I appreciate it.”
She smiled grimly. “Enough to let me free?”
His expression instantly darkened. “Definitely not.”
Kaylin let out a quiet scoff and stepped toward the corner. “Then save your thanks and let me sleep.”
16
Kaylin
Kaylin woke to the sound of frantic beeping. Adrenaline flooded her, but it took her a groggy moment to realize why.
The vitals monitor. That was where the beeping alarm was coming from.
She leaped to her feet, stumbling towards Lio as she blinked sleep from her eyes. The ambassador was still where she’d left him in the opposite corner, and as she skidded to a halt in front of him, he stared up at her with bleary eyes. He’d clearly just woken up, but Marin was awake and alert, and she pointed toward the stalls.
“Lio’s fine," Marin said. "It’s the Warden.”
Matteo. Kaylin whirled around and raced toward the stall he was lying in. Red ran at her side, a low, worried growl rumbling in his chest. As Kaylin fumbled to unlatch the stall’s half-rotted door, she heard low groaning coming from inside.
“What’s going on?” Beck demanded. He jogged over from where he’d been sitting near the door of the barn, his rifle clutched tightly in his hands.
Kaylin waved sharply at him. “Put that away and get me the med kit.”
She shoved open the door and found Matteo crumpled on his side, his face resting in a pool of vomit. Sweat beaded on his skin, covering his face and soaking his clothes, and his hands clutched at his abdomen.
Kaylin rushed to his side, kneeling down to get a better look. She carefully turned his face, making sure he wasn’t inhaling his own vomit. But she didn’t dare move him any more than that. Something was obviously wrong internally, and moving him could just make it worse.
She peered closer at the vitals monitor, which was glowing a vibrant red color as it beeped its alarm. His blood pressure had crashed, but his temperature and heart rate were dangerously spiked.
“Beck!” she called out. “Get me that med kit now!”
It was useless. She knew that even as she said the words. His fever had already spiked to 104, and it was only—she peered at the time stamp in the corner of the monitor—three in the afternoon. Two hours since she’d gone to sleep and left Matteo to rest. If the fever had struck him that quickly, something was horribly wrong.
Sweat rolled down his face in fat drops, and small shudders quaked under his skin. “What’s happening?” he gasped. “My stomach hurts.”
His eyes were wide and wild with fear. Kaylin’s gut dropped. She hadn’t gotten to be at her brother’s side when he died—she’d been miles away when Jaxon had been killed in a Syndicate bombing. But somehow, as she stared down at Matteo’s big hazel eyes, she felt like she was reliving Jaxon’s death all over again.
Kaylin took a deep breath and shook her head sharply, forcing herself to concentrate. This wasn’t her brother. It was Matteo. And he wasn’t dead yet, which meant she had to focus on saving him.
She worked to keep her voice calm as she said, “Matteo, I think one of your ribs tore into your stomach.”
Or maybe his liver. Or spleen. Or intestine. There was no way of knowing exactly what was wrong, not without better equipment. And there was absolutely no way to fix it.
Beck burst into the stall and shoved the med kit at Kaylin. She took it with trembling hands and tore it open. The best she could do now was buy time, and pray they could get to the Resistance’s medical center soon.
Very, very soon. Matteo didn’t have long, not at this rate.
Kaylin grabbed the air injector and loaded it with another dose of the antibiotic, this one three times as strong as before. She injected him right under his left collarbone, as close to his heart as she could get. Then she tore the bandage off his wound, trying to get a better look at it. Her neat stitches were red and swollen, making the gash in his chest look like it was about to burst.
Kaylin cursed. The wound was septic. Whatever organ had been pierced by his ribs was now trickling toxins into his bloodstream, poisoning his body.
“Let me help him.”
Kaylin startled at the sound of Lio’s faint, shaky voice. She looked over his shoulder to see the ambassador staring over at them from the opening of the stall. He gripped the side of the door, the splintering wood digging into his pale flesh. Marin hovered beside him, her arm around his shoulders to keep him steady.
Kaylin opened her mouth to tell him there was nothing he could do. Then she remembered who she was talking to: an ambassador from a foreign planet. A planet that was known to be one of the most advanced civilizations in the universe.
“Do you have something to help him?” Kaylin demanded.
“No,” Marin said, but her answer was too sharp and rushed.
Lio ignored her and stepped forward, pulling out from her support. Kaylin slid to the side, giving the ambassador room to kneel next to Matteo. The soldier’s eyes widened as he got a good look at Lio’s unearthly appearance. He cringed away from the ambassador, scrabbling at the dirt as he struggled to push himself away.
Matteo only made it a couple inches before he lurched forward and heaved. He groaned in pain, but it was cut off by a mouthful of vomit. Kaylin scrambled to lift his head, helping him spit out the vomit so he didn’t choke.
A wave of helpless panic struck her. She looked over at Lio and said, “Do something. Anything.”
Lio’s lips pursed into a tight frown, and she could see hesitation freezing his muscles. She almost screamed at him, demanding he at least try to help. But before she could snarl the words, Lio reached up and took the pendant from around his neck.
Kaylin had noticed the pendant before—it was a slim rectangle of si
lver metal with faint blue veins running through it. She’d thought it was just a piece of alien jewelry, but now that she saw how reverently he touched it, she realized it must be something more.
Marin snarled something that could only be a curse and stepped forward, launching into a tirade in their own language. Lio ignored her. There was none of his usual diplomacy. He just kept his back turned to her and pressed his thumb against the silver metal of the pendant.
A low hum filled the air, and the pale blue veins pulsed with a strange light. The sides of the pendant slid apart, revealing a small cavity inside. It was almost like a locket, but instead of a picture hiding inside, there was a black void.
Kaylin blinked a few times, trying to focus on the blackness. She quickly realized she couldn’t. There was no clear edge to the blackness and no clear middle. She wasn’t even sure it was blackness. It seemed more like nothingness, and a numb feeling filled her as the humming sound grew louder.
It wasn’t dread she was feeling, but pure… nothing. Just like the gaping void in the pendant. All her panic and exhaustion fled from her, leaving her with no emotions, just a bizarre sense of hyperawareness.
She looked up at Lio, suddenly registering every detail of his face. Every curve of his serious expression, every pore of his skin, every smear of dried blood staining his complexion. It was like staring at him through a microscope, and Kaylin suddenly felt like there was enough detail on his face to keep her attention occupied for eternity.
Then Lio reached forward, pressing the pendant against Matteo’s forehead. All of the soldier’s panic and pain had left his expression, and he stared blankly at Lio.
Light flashed from the pendant, filling the barn with a pale blue glow. Kaylin wasn’t sure how long the light lasted. It looked like it only flashed for a second, but it seemed to take an entire lifetime to fade. Then Lio drew his hand away from Matteo and flipped the pendant closed.
The humming stopped, letting silence flood the barn. Panic and disbelief crashed into Kaylin, driving the air from her lungs. She braced one of her trembling hands against the floor, letting the cold, gritty dirt grind into her palm and ground her in reality.
Then she turned to Lio and blurted out, “What the hell was that?”
Matteo collapsed in a limp heap, his eyes closed. Kaylin cried out in shock, but then she noticed the vital-monitor. The numbers were changing, his temperature dropping and blood pressure rising. She held her breath as she watched the numbers flicker across the screen. After about ten seconds, they stabilized.
Temperature at 98.7, blood pressure at 110/90, heartrate at 75 beats per minute. Perfectly healthy readings.
Kaylin reached out and pressed her hand against the soldier’s forehead, not believing the numbers on the screen. His skin was still damp with sweat, but it had cooled to a normal temperature. She examined the gash on his chest, gasping as she saw it. The bright red, bloated injury was gone. In its place was a neat row of stitches along a freshly healed scar.
Relief crashed into her. Matteo was okay.
But then shock crept back into her mind, and her voice shook as she turned to Lio. “What did that thing do to him?”
Lio’s expression remained somber as he tucked the pendant back under his shirt. “That’s not for you to know.”
Lio’s injuries were gone, too. Kaylin shook her head in disbelief as she saw that the gash on his forehead had vanished, leaving nothing but a pale scar and old blood. Her mind spun, and she held up her wrist, peering at the skin there. Her bruises from the handcuffs had also disappeared.
Whatever the pendant was, it’d healed all of them.
“Like hell it’s not for me to know,” she said to Lio, her voice shaking just as badly as her hand. She stared at his chest, where she could see the outline of the pendant under his shirt. Lio reached up and clasped his palm against it, as if guarding it from her.
His reverent touch made it obvious that the pendant was more to him than just a piece of technology. It was holy. And very, very powerful.
A suspicion curled up from the back of her mind. What was it Lio had said about the Virtues? They were storage containers, relics that housed the power of some ancient race. Kaylin had thought Lio was just reciting a myth when he told her about them, but now...
“It’s a Virtue,” she said slowly. “Isn’t it?”
Lio frantically shook his head. “No. No, it’s not a Virtue.”
“You’re lying,” Beck said. He stepped forward, his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed on Lio.
The ambassador shifted back, his gaze nervously flicking between the two of them. “It’s not a Virtue, I swear,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “It’s only a Fragment. It used to be part of a Virtue of Healing, but its channel is weak now. Hardly usable.”
He sounded like a robbery victim frantically trying to convince a thief that his wallet wasn’t worth stealing. Kaylin shook her head, struggling to even understand where the hell this conversation was going.
“Why didn’t you use it before?” she demanded.
“Because using it is strictly forbidden,” Marin snapped. Even though she spoke to Kaylin, her eyes were narrowed on Lio. “The Ascendancy has scanners in place searching entire galaxies for signs of Virtues and their Fragments. And now Lio has alerted them of exactly where one is.”
Lio met Marin’s glare with a look of helpless guilt. He nodded toward Matteo. “He was dying. I had to help.”
Marin replied with a sharp retort in their own language. Lio flinched and looked to the ground. He suddenly seemed exhausted, his expression haggard and shoulders slumped.
Matteo let out a small groan, drawing Kaylin’s attention back to him. She watched his medical monitor carefully, searching it for any sign of change. But it remained steady, all of his vital signs perfectly healthy and balanced.
His eyes fluttered open, and he stared at her with bleary eyes, but she couldn’t see any pain in them. Only exhaustion.
He swallowed hard and then whispered, “What…?” He broke off and licked his lips, cringing as he tasted the bile from his vomit.
Kaylin gently patted his hand and switched to her calm caretaker voice. “You’re okay, Matteo. We’ve got you all patched up. You can go back to sleep now.”
Matteo gave a small, confused nod and closed his eyes, clearly too tired to resist. Kaylin turned to look at Beck, wondering if he was as freaked out as she was feeling.
He was. Definitely. He was trying to hide it, and he’d managed to steel his expression into a serious look. But she could see the fear in his eyes.
Beck turned to Lio. “Is he really healed now?”
Lio nodded. “He’s perfectly healthy.”
“You’re sure?” Kaylin asked.
Lio raised his eyebrows in the disbelieving look he seemed to give whenever she’d said something particularly stupid. “Of course I’m sure. The Fragment has healed everything in this barn.”
Kaylin slowly nodded, not even knowing what to say to that. Beck cleared his throat, similarly lost for words. Then he nodded to Lio and said, “You should get some rest. You might be healed, but you look exhausted.”
The dismissal was obvious enough, and Lio nodded and carefully got to his feet. Beck was right—his expression was drawn tight with exhaustion, as if using the pendant had somehow drained him. Marin slipped her arm back under his shoulder and guided him away, angrily hissing something at him in their own language. Lio just kept his head bowed low, as if too ashamed to respond.
Beck waited until they were out of ear shot before he stepped closer to Matteo, kneeling down beside Kaylin to examine the young soldier. He poked a finger at the fresh scar on Matteo’s chest, slowly shaking his head.
“Unbelievable,” he whispered.
Kaylin knew he didn’t actually mean it. They’d both seen far too many strange things during the Syndicate War to doubt the capabilities of alien societies.
Although this… This was extreme. Over the years, Kaylin had se
en mind-boggling alien tech that pushed science to its limits. But the pendant Lio had used seemed beyond science. It had felt like something downright supernatural, and she couldn’t shake the unsettling chills running over her skin.
As he withdrew his hand from Matteo’s fresh scar, Beck stared up at Kaylin with an expression of dread. “So if this is what happens when Lio uses a tiny, broken piece of a Virtue of Healing...”
Kaylin swallowed hard, fear trickling through her veins as she finished his question. “Then what the hell happens if the Wardens decide to use a Virtue of War?”
17
Lio
Lio woke to a faint pulsing in his chest. He reached up, his fingers brushing against the pendant trapped under his shirt. Every few seconds, a fresh wave of heat pulsed through the metal casing, nearly hot enough to burn his skin.
Using the Fragment had awakened it. The ancient relic was reaching out, desperately trying to connect to the Virtue of War that was so close.
Fear trickled through Lio, and he clasped his hand around the pendant, wishing he could simply smother the heat. But it was no use. He’d chosen to open the Fragment and use it to heal the dying soldier. And this was the consequence: an activated Fragment, pulsing with a signal strong enough for the Ascendancy to detect.
Lio bit back a curse and squeezed his eyes shut. What in the void had he done?
A humming filled the air. He startled upright, clutching at the pendant. He hadn’t meant to open it again, but…
The humming wasn’t the Fragment. It was louder and deeper than the Fragment, and it seemed muffled, as if it were coming from outside.
Lio blinked the sleep from his eyes and looked over to find Marin sitting next to him. Dark bags hung under her eyes, and she kept her pistol clutched in her hand. But she seemed calm as she stared toward the open doors of the barn, where the noise was coming from.
Beck strode inside the barn and headed toward them. The lieutenant’s eyes were red with exhaustion, but there was a look of relief on his face. “There’s a transport waiting for us outside,” he told them, jerking his thumb toward the door.
