by Elle E. Ire
Somehow, Jaren retained his grip and continued to pull. Kila’s face appeared beside his, and more hands caught hold of me. It took both of them to drag me through the opening. The three of us tumbled down the side of the Protector and landed with soft thuds on the sand below.
The wind picked up, and with the swirling sand, I could hardly see in the twilight. Each of the siblings grabbed an arm and dragged me, half walking, half stumbling, across the dunes. We dropped behind an outcropping of jagged black rocks, our backs pressed against the rough surface, our breaths coming in harsh gasps. Jaren and Kila were winded from the exertion. I actually couldn’t draw a good lungful of air, even with the protective handkerchief over my mouth.
Jaren pulled off his oxygen feeder and slipped it under my facial covering. I heaved a few breaths before nodding and pushing it back at him.
The shuttle chose that moment to explode, and we huddled together, shielding our heads with our arms while debris rained down around us. I leaned over to protect Kila’s body with my own and caught her faint whimper despite the noise.
This was only the beginning.
Once things stopped going boom, Jaren gave my head a quick healing, and we set out across the sand. I ended up taking Kila’s goggles and giving her the sunglasses. Jaren could lead her. I was the one who knew where we were going, sort of, so I needed to see.
Pausing, I consulted the GPS Kila had tossed in her pack. Not like it could give me precise directions. The Guild stronghold wasn’t on any map. But at least it told me we headed west, which was where we wanted to go.
After about an hour, twilight turned to full dark. The wind died down—thank any and all gods. We removed our protective eyewear, and Jaren and Kila no longer needed the breathers, but the cold bit through our insufficient clothing. Exhaustion showed in my companions’ faces and I’m sure mine as well. I suspected I looked the worst. Even with the concussion healed, receiving the injury plus the vomiting that always accompanied Jaren’s ministrations drained me. The siblings kept shooting me concerned glances and exchanging looks.
I opened my mouth to tell them to quit it, when I tripped and ended up face-first in the sand. Staying there didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
“We should stop,” Jaren said, pulling me to a seated position. “You have to rest after a healing. The process draws from your reserves.”
I spit out a mouthful of sand. “Is that how it works?”
He cocked a grin at me. “Far as anyone can tell. I just help things along.”
I allowed myself to rest a moment while I considered our options. We hadn’t put nearly enough distance between ourselves and the shuttle for my comfort. In fact, if I strained my eyes, I could still make out the flames from the explosion flickering in the distance. However, the sandstorm would have erased our tracks, and I already knew from prior experience with all the wildlife, scanners became useless.
I could hear that same wildlife now, hissing and spitting in the darkness—Sardonen sand lizards trying to decide if we’d make a good meal or were too dangerous in a pack of three to take down. “We need shelter. Some of the rock formations have caves.”
“Like that one?”
I followed where Kila pointed. An outcropping of large stones loomed about a third of a kilometer away. At least that was my guess. Distances could be misleading in the desert. The moonlight cast odd shadows over the rocks, but I thought I could see a darker area at the base that might be an opening.
Nodding, I let them pull me to my feet, then swayed where I stood. No more taking point for me. Jaren threw one of my arms over his shoulders while Kila took the other, and the three of us trudged our weary way across the dunes.
The temperature dropped another ten degrees before we made it to the cave mouth. If I’d had a scanner, I would have checked the interior for life-forms. Without one, we had to take our chances or freeze.
We hadn’t gone more than three steps inside before a low hiss greeted our entry. Jaren extended a flashlight outward. The beam bounced off a pair of angry red eyes.
Chapter 22
“NOBODY MOVE,” I whispered.
It heard me anyway, and the hiss intensified in volume. The four-foot-long lizard crept toward us. We could make out its pointed snout, gaping jaw, and jagged yellow teeth. A thin line of drool dripped from its mouth. Several of the teeth were chipped, and one was missing altogether, indicating the advanced age of the beast. That meant it might be slower but presumably more experienced and intelligent to have survived this long in such a harsh environment.
I lifted my arm from around Jaren’s shoulders, slowly reaching down to Yesenia’s confiscated holster and pistol hanging on my thigh. The lizard growled, low and deep in its throat. I never knew they could growl. Then again, if I’d ever gotten close enough to find out, I probably wouldn’t have lived to share the discovery. The beast’s throat muscles distended. That I recognized.
“Watch out!”
I pulled the others back as it fired a warning shot of venom. The yellow liquid spattered the sand where we’d stood. Wherever it made contact, the granules sizzled, and a tiny curl of smoke rose from the ground. If it touched skin, it would first burn like acid, then sink through the epidermis to the blood vessels. Once in a human’s system, it placed its victim in a state of euphoric bliss, making the lizard’s dinner docile while it ate the subject alive.
“I think the gun is out,” Jaren muttered out of the corner of his mouth. We’d frozen in place again. Kila trembled under my hand.
“No shit,” I whispered back. “Any other ideas?”
“One.” Without moving, Jaren began speaking to the beast. “You don’t want to eat us. You just want to go away, find some other nice, comfy cave to sleep in tonight and leave us this one.”
I rolled my eyes. Under any other circumstances, I would have burst out laughing, but not here and not now. The lizard’s back arched, and it hissed again. It took a few steps toward us.
“I don’t think it understands Standard.”
Jaren ignored me, continuing to reason with the creature in that soothing tone of his that made my head spin when directed at me. Even without being the target, my hearing fluctuated, Jaren’s voice rising and falling in volume in my ears. My peripheral vision blurred. I saw no indication it had any effect on the predator. The lizard moved again. Soon it would reenter spitting range.
At first I thought the soft humming signified a new threat, and my muscles tensed in anticipation of an attack from my left. Then I realized the source—Kila. I risked a quick glance down at her. She closed her eyes in concentration and increased the volume of the simple little tune.
The sand lizard swayed, and it blinked in quick bursts. The rigidity of its body relaxed in a ripple that traveled from snout to tail. The creature shook its head in apparent confusion, spattering spittle everywhere and sending up tiny clouds of acid-smoke. Then it tucked its tail around itself like a wrap. In a resigned fashion, it stalked from the cave and disappeared into the night.
I let go of Kila, and she and Jaren sagged against each other. After searching the rest of the cave for wildlife, I rummaged around in the pack on his back and came up with a palm-sized mini-shield generator, which I set at the entrance. A remote activated the repellent field, producing a low hum. Anything that touched the invisible screen from either side would get a mild shock and set off a beeping alarm. It wouldn’t stop a determined human, but it would send most animals scurrying and alert us either way.
I’m not sure which of us was in the worst shape, between using the healing power and being healed. It took all our efforts to make the frigid space comfortable enough for sleeping. Not wanting to risk a fire that might be seen from outside, I warmed a few stones with my laser set on low power. I wouldn’t call our makeshift home cozy, but it raised the temperature to a bearable level. Jaren spread out the two thermal sleep sacks, and Kila heated some tea and soup in their self-warming pouches.
We ate in silence, and I hadn�
�t noticed I’d dozed off sitting up until Kila tugged on my sleeve. I’d finished the soup, but the tea spilled from my slack hand and soaked into the dry earth.
Smiling, she drew me down beside her, wrapping one of the padded sacks around us while Jaren took his to the opposite side of the cave. I appreciated his attempt to give us some privacy, but it wasn’t that large a space. Besides, I didn’t possess the strength for anything amorous tonight.
Her hair brushed my face as she lay with her back to my chest. “I told you, you were powerful,” I whispered. “You saved all our lives tonight.” Despite the obvious drawbacks, it had to be tough living in her brother’s shadow, but Jaren hadn’t been able to deter that sand lizard.
“Mmm. I did, didn’t I?” Her voice sounded sleepy and a little sultry, and my stomach did a flip.
Calm down, Cor. No matter how much you want her, your energy is spent, and her brother is five meters away.
I wrapped my arms around her and settled my head on my folded jacket.
Exhausted as I was, sleep refused to come. I tried to lie still so as not to disturb Kila. She’d drifted right off, and her breathing came heavily and even. But all my body wanted was to toss and turn.
This night might very well be my last.
By tomorrow afternoon, assuming nothing else interfered, we’d reach the Guild hideout. I’d explain the situation to the new Leader, whoever he or she might be. Mystical armies aside, my fate would be in that person’s hands.
I had many regrets, but revisiting the events of the past few weeks, I wouldn’t alter my actions. Jaren deserved a life, and his and Kila’s wondrous abilities needed to be protected. But I hated myself for building the relationship between Kila and myself, for leading her to believe we might have a future together.
Assassins died young, and I was ensuring my life expectancy would be especially short.
In the earliest hours of morning, I awoke from uneasy dreams. Kila’s warm body pressed against mine. She’d turned at some point and lay facing me, the top of her head tucked under my chin. I waited until my breathing regulated and my heart rate slowed from the nightmares. Then I listened as Jaren stood and crossed the cave. I heard the hum of the repellent field die, then reactivate, and assumed he went outside to relieve himself.
I slid my hand down Kila’s body, rough calluses against her smooth skin. The waistband of Yesenia’s camouflage pants put up a bit of a barrier, but I managed to slip my fingers inside. She wore nothing beneath. A silly grin spread across my face, and I tried to will it away, but it remained. Encouraging her further was wrong, dead wrong. But on this possible last morning, I couldn’t resist touching her one more time, and here, behind the repellent field, we were safe enough for a brief indulgence.
Kila moaned in her sleep, or half-sleep, as my hand explored the softest parts of her. She shifted closer, pressing her hips against mine, begging my fingers to enter. “Shh,” I cautioned, obliging her needs while smoothing her auburn-blond hair away from her face with my other hand. I enjoyed watching her expression shift from confusion to pleasure. Her eyelids fluttered.
She sighed, then gasped as I located a particularly sensitive spot.
“Cor….” My name shuddered out of her on a ragged breath. My own arousal increased as her hips moved rhythmically in time with the motions of my fingers, but I fought it down. This wasn’t about or for me. It was for her, all of it, everything.
The fabric of the sleep sack whispered and rustled around us as Kila’s movements became more rapid, more desperate. With a gentle nudge, I urged her to roll onto her back, but she shook her head. “I want to be… this close to you… when—” She gasped again, then bit down on her lower lip to stifle a moan.
My soft chuckle disturbed wisps of her hair. They fell across her cheeks and forehead. “What’s the matter? Can’t do this quietly?” I made it a challenge and used my thumb to tease her without mercy.
A whimper rewarded my efforts, a whimper that rose in volume when I drove my fingers deeper.
“Your brother’s outside, but if you’re too loud…,” I warned, leaning forward and closing my teeth gently around her hard nipple through the thin fabric of her shirt. My tongue drew wet circles over the material.
That did it.
“I… don’t… care… ooooh.” Kila pressed her lips against my shirt to stifle the rest of her cry, but too late. Jaren returned as she released, and I shot him a sheepish grin over Kila’s shoulder. The redness in his cheeks gave away his embarrassment at overhearing us.
“I’m thinking we should cover as much ground as possible before the sun gets high,” the young lord said, shifting the focus and gesturing at the cave mouth. A thin beam of light spilled in through the opening. Dawn had arrived.
Kila growled something unintelligible, yanked my jacket from beneath my head, and hurled it at him without looking. It managed to hit him in the face anyway, and he tossed it back while packing our survival gear in the knapsacks.
Despite the early start, it didn’t take long for the temperature to rise, and by full daybreak, the heat drained us. I recognized some of the rock formations and knew we would walk the rest of the day to reach the stronghold. We’d drunk most of the water in the two canteens we’d brought. Kila’s hair stuck to the back of her neck, despite tying it up in a long tail, and weariness showed in every heavy step she took. Jaren seemed to be focusing all his concentration on putting one foot in front of the other. He kept his gaze fixed straight ahead and didn’t waste energy on idle conversation. Both the T’rals stumbled often, and I walked close to Kila, ready to catch her if she passed out.
I fared a little better, having spent many years living in the Sardonen desert, but in the evening, when the outcropping hiding the entrance to the Guild fortress came into view, even I was almost grateful. Almost.
We walked past several aircars hidden under camouflage netting before reaching the rocks. One of them was a burned-out heap, half-buried in the sand, and I recognized my own vehicle stripped of all usable parts. Nausea twisted my gut as the memories of that horrific night flooded back to me, and I felt Kila rub my shoulder, following my gaze. She didn’t know all the gory details, but she knew me, was synched into my emotions, and tried to provide comfort. I loved her for it, and it hurt even more.
The closer we got, the worse it became. Maybe it was the heat after all, but my vision swam with images of Micah’s slit throat, the crash of the aircar and the driver’s subsequent death, the blade protruding from my thigh while blood ran the length of my leg. When we stood at the holographic rock face disguising the cave opening, I froze.
This was it. I’d come full circle, and it had been a damned vicious one at times.
Kila and Jaren exchanged concerned looks while I took several deep, calming breaths. Their presence helped, reminding me of the good I’d found along the way, as well as reminding me of what I had to do. Suicide wasn’t in my repertoire, but I took the final step forward and walked through the illusion of the wall.
No alarms sounded, but they wouldn’t have. An intruder would trigger silent signals sent to a flashing alert light in the central chamber. A friendly entering the tunnels would not. No way to know which one I was these days until I got there.
I heard Kila’s sharp gasp from the other side of the hologram, but I could no longer see her or her brother. With a word, I shut the hologram down, knowing for certain the twins would set off the alarms if they passed through it. “Come on!” I beckoned once they could see me again. They joined me in the corridor. I reactivated the camouflage holographic display.
Jaren turned to admire the image from the back. “Excellent quality. Expensive technology.”
I favored him with a wry smile. “The Guild doesn’t work for cheap.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, but Kila’s shriek grabbed our attention. We turned to see her with one hand over her mouth, staring at the walls of the tunnel.
She’d spotted the skeletons.
I’d meant to warn them both about the ritualistic burial methods of assassins, but with all my personal demons, it slipped my mind. I wrapped my arms around her while Jaren studied some of the remains. He didn’t seem disturbed as much as curious. “Victims?”
“No. Guild members. It’s how we bury our dead.”
“It’s barbaric,” Kila muttered against my shirt.
“It’s tradition. You of all people should understand that. I’m not a fan, but it’s the way we do things.” I caught myself. We. Like I belonged to them once more. Well, I did, if Yesenia was to be believed, at least until the new Leader spotted my companions and got a hold of me. Part of my macabre imagination wondered if the skeletal remains would become the Generational’s magical army, if Jaren would resurrect them somehow. It didn’t make sense, really. The Givers of Life occupied the temple before these tunnels had been excavated and used by the Guild. The writers of their sacred text would have known nothing of what was to come, unless prognostication was among their talents.
Jaren ran his hand over some of the bones, eliciting a grimace from Kila. “They’re small, not fully grown. Many of them were young, in their teens,” he commented, glancing at me over his shoulder with a questioning expression.
I shrugged it off, though it bothered me as much, if not more, than it did him. “That’s when mistakes are most likely to be made. We apprentice to the Guild in adolescence. Those who survive the training become masters. Those who don’t serve as a reminder to show care and caution.”
He nodded. “A method behind this madness. I’ve found the more I study the Generational, the more I understand the reasons our ancestors had for their rules. A purpose. Only times change, but the text does not. Any religion, and I would almost count the Guild as a sort of religion in its own way, must evolve in order to survive.”
“I suppose.”
