Stars & Ashes

by Teagan Kearney

  “You’re a cheat. You’ve got implants.”

  Kia stared at him, and then everything slotted into place, and she understood. She saw Lord Rial’s profile, his perfect skin, his green gold-flecked eyes as he turned toward her, felt his body beneath her as the force field pushed her against him, remembered their wrists pressed together. She was a first-class fighter, but this, this new person wasn’t her, couldn’t be the real her. This change was the Heir’s fault. He'd given her his blood, and those things that entered her body along with his blood had altered her. That was why she’d hit every target, her blows were more accurate, her body stronger and faster, and she fought better than she ever had before. The fury flared, boiled up, and spilled over. Mentally reaching again for her black hilted sword, she swung the glittering blade at him. “No, no, no,” she roared and fell, writhing in agony on the floor, her screams echoing throughout the gymnasium as the device at the base of her skull activated.

  Chapter Eight: Opportunity

  Her brain was cotton wool. Soft-edged images floated one after another in front of her: helping her mother serve the evening meal; the twins, Lilia and Alsling, giggling helplessly as Jared teased them; her father, smiling t them all with affection.

  “I think we should adjust the delivery stream. She’ll damage herself if she continues like this.” The speaker sounded worried.

  The dream fled as reality pressed down on her. She remained still, aware of the soft fetters on her wrists and ankles, and kept her breathing regular, hoping to pick up something that would improve her understanding of her position here.

  Someone—Nagavi?—lifted the sheets and released her restraints.

  “No. She has to learn this lesson.” The Heir’s voice was harsh.

  “What if she breaks?”

  A pause before the answer came. “She’ll mend. There’s plenty of time for her to realize the benefits of compliance, but sooner would be better than later.”

  “At least she’s not afraid anymore.”

  The Heir gave a quiet laugh. “After what I saw yesterday, I agree, but she’s awake.”

  “I’ll be outside.”

  The bed sank as the Heir sat down. “Kia?”

  She didn’t move. The rage had gone, instead, an unnatural calmness occupied the place it had inhabited—but he remained the cause of everything wrong in her life.

  “I am sorry. I didn’t intend for this to happen. When I gave you my blood, I knew the nanobots would stay in your system long enough to save you. Your spine was damaged, and there were numerous minor injuries that needed repairing. Your own immune system should have rejected them, but it seems you are a compatible host.”

  He had her attention. She opened her eyes. “And there’s nothing the superior advanced medical treatments available at the center of your empire can do about that?”

  “The nanobots were tailored for my genes, consequently I have no idea if they'll work in the same manner for you they do for me, but you’ve already experienced some of the advantages.”

  He spoke as if he were comforting a child who’d hurt herself, reassuring her that soon everything would be fine. But this ache for those she loved, and whom she’d never see, touch, laugh or be with again, this would not be all right—ever.

  He raised his hand as if to give her an encouraging pat, but she flinched, and he let his hand drop. “I will not hurt you. You are under my protection, Kia, I don’t want you to fear me.”

  “I’d say the damage is done.”

  “I’ve said I’m sorry—twice, and that’s twice more than anyone else other than my father has ever gotten.” He smiled at her, and the gold flecks in his eyes sparkled.

  For a split second he dazzled her. Without his habitual forbidding expression, she saw, even with the trappings of his position and the power of life and death he held over many, a man carrying a heavy burden. Despite her mother’s desire to have her daughter settled in a partnership and hold at least one grandchild on her knee, Kia had been happy with her training to be a srilao teacher, and her desire to follow in her father footsteps and aim for the Electorate. If Rial had been from Sestris, she would certainly have granted him more than one look. She shook her head to clear it and the moment was gone.

  “Through sheer happenstance, you saved my life, Kia, and it seems I have even more reason to see no harm comes to you.” His grim expression returned and his voice hardened. “Find some method of coming to terms with the situation you find yourself in, and cease this harmful behavior.” He rose and exited without a backward look.

  Nagavi poked his head around the door. “Cheydii will fetch you early tomorrow. Be ready for training.”

  When she woke the following morning, whatever sedative they’d dosed her with had flushed itself from her system, and her first thoughts were the Heir’s words. He was right, she did have to come to terms with her situation. Last night, she’d wondered if she should make any effort at all. With her heightened improved abilities she'd undoubtedly perform well, but a new resolve was solidifying. She intended to do her best, not for the Heir or Nagavi, but for herself. She was alive and healthy, and her goal of dispatching Lord Rial was still the priority. Becoming an elite guard would move her closer to her target.

  Walking beside Cheydii in the fresh early morning sunshine as they headed for the barracks, she breathed in the smells of fresh grass and fragrant flowers. “How long do the trials take?”

  Cheydii smiled. “Living in the present after all, are you? Good. Well, four Chenjerai died recently, and four out of the twenty contestants will replace them. The training takes a month, and Lord Rial himself decides who will join his guard. Being the best at everything doesn’t mean you’ll be picked. Your ability to work in a team and how you relate with others are taken into account. There’s more than just hitting targets and knocking people down, although,” she snorted with laughter, “those are mandatory.”

  Jahanamu had killed four of Lord Rial’s elite guards. She felt nothing for them. They’d chosen their lot. How many miners had died? Had the cave-in been a genuine accident? How much of the asteroid had been destroyed? She would never know if there had been a plot to kill the Heir, but, if that was the case, the conspirators failed spectacularly and their own people had paid the highest price.

  They arrived at the dining room as the rest of the group filed in for breakfast.

  Kia ignored the speculative looks and sat in the same seat as yesterday.

  “How are you?” The redhead beside her inquired, eyeing the hot bowls of steaming grain and fruit. “I could eat a jarak.”

  Kia’s eyes slid sideways surprised at the sympathy she heard in the woman’s voice. “I’ve had worse days, but I’m okay. Thanks for asking. I didn’t catch your name yesterday, and what’s a jarak?”

  “My parents gave me the name Mejara, but all I’ve ever been called is Red. A jarak is a delicious animal on my home planet," she laughed. “You should eat up. We’re taking a field trip today.”

  Nagavi walked in, and everyone was on their feet. “Good morning, candidates.” His gazed raked them. “Where’s—”

  The door flew open and Jalux rushed in, stopping short as he caught Nagavi’s smile.

  “How considerate of you to join us, candidate Jalux, but you'll miss breakfast. Take your place, though, as we appreciate your effort in making an appearance.” Nagavi walked to the top of the table and stood behind his seat.

  Kia mouthed the obligatory praise to the emperor and his heir, mentally shooting a few crossbow bolts into Nagavi’s heart, and tucked in as heartily as Red.

  Jalux sat in his place, his eyes down, his back straight, and ate not a crumb.

  He was going to find the initial session hard, Kia thought, wondering if she should sneak a couple of sweet rolls into her pocket for him. She remembered what it was like to work long hours without enough food in her belly but decided against it. He’d chosen to be here, whereas the miners, fed twice a day on food that scarcely kept them alive, did
n’t have the luxury of choice. Besides, if another candidate was weakened, her chances of success increased.

  After breakfast, Nagavi lined them up outside in twos. A short brisk march brought them to a landing field, where a dozen bright silver flits squatted in two neat rows near three space shuttles standing tall in their launch pads. All bore the Heir’s insignia, the curved outlines of bird wings over flames. Beside the field sat a neat white building that housed the control center.

  Kia’s eyes were wide, her neck periscoping from side to side. All this must belong to the Heir. She wondered at the wealth and power he had at his disposal. She shut her mouth, realizing she’d been gawping like a desert nomad entering Sestris for his first visit.

  “That was the most dramatic thing anyone’s done to avoid fighting with me. Thanks for the easy win which helped me secure first place.” Tamaiko’s high-pitched whisper in her ear, brought her up short as he pushed past her, turned with a big grin plastered across his face and laughed.

  He looked so cheeky and pleased with himself, her knee-jerk response of annoyance dissipated, and she grinned back at him. “No problem. I’m happy to give a fellow candidate a boost up the ratings.”

  “Darn it,” he said. “I would have bet money on it you’d rise to the bait.”

  Okay, he’d caught her out and won yesterday’s bout, but she was a quick learner. There would be other chances to defeat him, and on the next occasion, he’d not find it easy to trick her. She followed the others as Cheydii and Annen herded them into three of the flits.

  Seated on a bench, Kia found herself squished between Red and a candidate named Jeehar on a seat meant for two. Three more people were squashed on the seat behind them, and Jalux was on the floor. It wasn’t his day, Kia reflected, as she noticed him doing his best to get comfortable.

  “Ooh! What in the galaxy are those huge beasts?” Red exclaimed.

  Jalux knelt and peered out the window. “They’re his pet dragoi hounds.”

  Kia leaned forward to observe what had caught Red’s interest.

  Lord Rial strode along the edge of the landing field with half a dozen massive ebony hounds, trotting around him. Although they weren’t leashed, the ferocious-looking animals remained docilely by his side. He looked over toward the flits and nodded, acknowledging their presence, and then Kia’s flit took off, and he disappeared from sight.

  Kia spent the flight gazing at the blur of green tapestry coloring the lower half of the plasglass window. Perhaps on the return, she'd catch a clearer view of Xarunta? She might even get a glimpse of the capital, Djem. The thought darted unbidden into her mind—a metropolis was an ideal place to disappear. She didn’t dismiss the idea but allowed it to sink below the surface. She wanted to kill Lord Rial and his tyrannous father, but the notion of freedom was too irresistible to reject out of hand.

  After half an hour, the flit landed on a plateau, and Kia, along with the others, clambered out, stretching and looking around. She studied the surrounding steep-sided hills, feeling a twinge of pity for Jalux. He would have to run up and down these tree-covered slopes on an empty stomach.

  After the flits had discharged their cargo, they lifted off, their silver wings catching the sunlight, and Cheydii and Annen gathered the group for a briefing.

  “Okay.” Nagavi smiled at them, though it was more a predatory grimace that a facial gesture of sociability. “Yesterday was fun, and yes, I do have a warped sense of humor, but today we’re going to assess your abilities in a different arena. To enter the Chenjerai you need selflessness, vigilance, physical and mental stamina, integrity, and courage. Cheydii will take you through a warmup, then we’ll be testing your physical stamina, determination, and orienteering skills. Candidates, are you ready?”

  Kia sighed as the space flits became dots and merged into the blue sky.

  “Kia!”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  “Yes to what?”

  “To being ready, Commander.”

  “Okay, you heard the end bit, here’s the first part. After the warmup, we’ll issue equipment along with instructions, and if you haven’t returned by the required time, we leave you here to make your own way back to whatever miserable planet you came from because you’ll be disqualified. Are you ready now, Kia?”

  She kept her gaze down. Go back to hacking at a rock wall in the semi-dark with a primitive pickax? “Yes, sir, more than ready.” Would serving in the Chenjerai offer more than despair? Was she really taking on board Lord Rial’s point? But she wouldn’t forget her dead. She couldn’t ever forget them because they waited for her in her dreams, but she’d live for them. Live to revenge them. She stood a little straighter.

  Nagavi informed them the exercise had to be completed within three hours and each candidate’s route was personalized. Cheydii and Annen issued everyone with a thin, flexible headband. These devices had a diminutive vidscreen that dropped down above her right eye, giving directions when needed.

  Kia was from a desert region, and the stifling humidity of Xarunta’s forests was a new experience. The physical aspect was taxing, but another difficulty had been following the directions from the headband. ‘Turn left’ would flash on the vidscreen, the words becoming larger and brighter until she obeyed. This resulted in scrambling up or down near vertical slopes, or on one occasion down a steep path that was invisible until she was lying flat on her stomach, peering over a cliff edge.

  She was making good speed running along a narrow trail, had gotten the hang of ignoring the pesky tiny flashing countdown numbers, and was relishing the freedom of being alone. She was exploring an exotic wilderness with a simple challenge she understood. The trail she was on came to an end, and the vidscreen flashed a bright ‘Ahead’. She assessed the steep forested slope, thinking it looked trickier than anything she’d covered until this point, and she was right. Each tree took her passage as a personal affront to the peaceful environment and expressed its displeasure by slapping her face and body with branches at every opportunity. She'd slithered about a third of the way when the countdown numbers flashed. Momentarily distracted she stumbled over a tree root and tripped.

  The lower section of the hillside was steeper with fewer trees and bushes, and she plummeted down the slope, her descent brought to a sudden end as she slammed sideways into a tree, whacking her head against the ridged bark of the trunk. She blinked, watching the pretty stars spin, and waiting until they slowed their crazy dance before staggering to her feet. She leaned against the tree, waiting for her vision to clear, then stood still. Her vidscreen wasn’t working. She took the headband off, shook it, tapped and wiped the screen, and put the device on again. Nothing.

  The best thing would be to retrace her steps and hope the thing worked by some kind of transmission that reactivated once she reached the top. Or not. Her options were clear-cut. Return to the starting point, continue with the plan to join the Chenjerai and assassinate the Heir. Or… make a run for freedom? A life planned for her by others, albeit with benefits, or her own path, irrespective of the risks? The chance to strike an effective blow against the tyrant or seek out and join a resistance somewhere in the galaxy?

  You are under my protection, the Heir had told her. Ignoring the sudden fluttering in her stomach, she flung the damaged headband as far as she could and set off, skidding down the hillside to the bottom of the narrow defile. Catching her breath, she checked her position, estimating she had maybe two hours at the most before Nagavi realized she wasn’t late and triggered an alarm. Scrambling up the opposite slope, she paused before setting off at a steady jog, traveling away from where she estimated the meeting spot was. It wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped because the lush greenness of the forest created a difficult terrain that made for slow progress. The trees were too close together, and the flocks of dazzlingly colored birds distracted her as they flew, squawking, into the air when she disturbed them. As she hiked, her brain worked overtime planning how she would survive. Sestris had always needed a steady sou
rce of manual laborers. Once she reached Djem, she would find something—washing dishes or cleaning or some kind of manual labor. The important thing was she’d be in control of her own destiny.

  A faint drone penetrated her musings. The flits! She looked up, but the canopy obscured all but a few glimpses of the sky. Hidden as she was, they’d never spot her, but if she listened, she could ascertain their direction and make sure she headed the opposite way. She was rewarded when one flit, then the other two, crossed the small pale blue patches above her. Five minutes later their low hum had faded. They would have come from the compound and confirmed which direction to avoid. She persevered, halting occasionally to listen for the drone of the flits and eventually came across an animal trail. Checking her surroundings, she heard nothing but the buzzing of insects and the jaunty singing of unfamiliar birds.

  Upping her speed, she pounded along and rounded a bend in the track. The next minute she caught a flash of black out of the corner of her eye, felt something sharp seize her right ankle, lurched forward, and smacked the ground. She tried to rise, roll over and see what had attacked her, but another—much heavier—animal pounced on her back, slamming her to the ground. She lay with her face pressed into the dirt, terrified, her heart hammering, and certain she was about to be torn to pieces.

  Chapter Nine: Flight

  “Well, well. What tasty morsel have you caught here, Fiata?”

  The Heir spoke mildly, but the quiet menace in his voice frightened her more than if he’d shouted.

  How had he found her this quickly? She’d had less than an hour of freedom before his vicious dragoi hounds pinned her to the ground. A scream lodged in her throat, but she clenched her jaw, and her eyes teared up with the effort of not thinking about different ways of killing him.

  “Maorga, release,” Rial commanded.

  The sharp pressure on her ankle vanished, but the weight on her back remained, shifting, the animal’s paws, claw tips slightly extended, digging in as it kneaded her flesh. Get it off me, she pleaded silently, imagining her skin ripped open by the beast, but she wouldn’t beg. He knows I’m trapped, and he’s annoyed because he had to come and find me, and he wants me to feel it. She flinched as Rial grasped her ankle and ran his fingers—none too gently—over her skin, examining the area where the animal had gripped her.