Her Father's Fugitive Throne

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Her Father's Fugitive Throne Page 4

by Brandon Barr


  Aven crawled over to Daeymara’s cot. He’d never seen a woman naked before. A form so beautiful, marred by the weapons of heartless men and left exposed, stripped of dignity. Why had they removed her clothes? Daeymara’s hands lay beside her naked thighs, palms up, fingers slightly curled. He took one of her hands in his.

  Her eyelids didn’t open. The blackened mark beneath her right eye was not the only blemish. Aven saw three other marks on her body, an outward reminder of the damage inside.

  But she was alive. He had been so certain the mercenary had killed her that it almost felt as if she’d come back from the dead. Aven stroked her hand. A thin tube ran from her left arm to a small machine. His VOKK processed what the machine was for. It was feeding water and nutrients into her blood.

  Aven noticed her hair was full of grass and dirt. She’d been dragged across the turf to the riders after being shot by the lightning gun. Her hair was filled with the remnants of Loam.

  His home. A place he’d probably never see again.

  He began picking the debris out of her hair and collecting what he found reverently into a pile on the floor. A flash of blue caught his eye in the poor lighting. He moved her hair to see it better and suddenly knew what it was.

  A wing. A ragged blue wing. From his sister’s butterfly.

  Had he killed Winter’s butterfly when he broke the vial against the mercenary’s face? Was the creature dead? Had he freed his sister from her horrible visions?

  He took the wing lightly in his fingers and removed it.

  “She ain’t gonna make it,” said one of the men seated at the table outside the cell. It was the spiky-haired man. Aven could see he’d washed the cuts on his face. The mercenary’s partially shaved head glistened as he glanced back at the game he was playing with the others.

  “Where are her clothes?” asked Aven.

  “She don’t need them,” said the mercenary with wide-set eyes. Dheeg, he remembered. “Unless you want her to piss and shit her pants.”

  “What about her shirt?”

  The third mercenary—the one with the missing eye—leaned back in his chair. “We wanted to enjoy the view.” He chuckled as he took in Aven’s disgust.

  Aven looked back to Daeymara, sickened and angry at the man’s callousness. Her face looked at peace, despite the dark mark beneath her right eye.

  Aven removed his white Guardian shirt, using it to cover her torso. He took out the lock of her hair that she’d given him and placed the torn wing within its strands so that it would not be lost. As much as he hated the butterfly, the little wing felt special now. His thoughts drifted to Winter. He wished he could see her. Just to know she was all right.

  “It’s a waste keeping her alive,” said One-eye. Aven turned his head again and found the man staring lazily at him, a smirk smeared across his face. “We ain’t gonna be able to use her. Her insides are all burned.”

  “Mhadrees thinks there’s a chance,” said Spiky-hair.

  “Ten to one she dies before we get anywhere near someone who could fix her,” said One-eye. “Just gonna end up cuttin’ the VOKK out and sellin’ it to the highest bidder.”

  The man’s one eye turned to Pike, then to Aven. “The three of you will be coming home with us. Just gotta make one little stop along the way to drop off the dead girl. And your little friend in the cage.” He snickered. “All the beastie did was try and shake hands with you…and you go faintin’ like a fuggin’ girl.”

  “I don’t like this stop,” said Dheeg. “It ain’t safe. It’s a Beast world, some say.”

  One-eye put a card down. “Mhadrees’ other ship has been making the run for years. Haven’t had a problem.”

  “You heard about the king there?” continued Dheeg. “He’s crazy, has some kind of spell over the place.” The man stared at the table. “He has the gods’ power. I heard he controls the minds of everyone in the city. That’s what another Red crew said. Everyone on Hearth worships him like he’s a god.”

  “I’ve worked on Mhadrees’ other ship,” said Spiky-hair. “As long as you address the king as Divine One, or Your Divineness, or some other crap, he won’t have your eyes torn out and your dick cut off.”

  “Fuggin’ crazy,” said One-eye, shaking the dice in his hand and then dropping them onto the table. He glanced at Aven again and sneered. Aven held his gaze.

  One-eye grinned. “I’m gonna find a reason to kill that prissy boy before too long. Don’t need him anyway, just his VOKK.”

  “Only a coward kills unarmed people,” said Aven.

  One-eye glared at him.

  Aven tensed and knew he could get himself killed for what he’d said. And yet, he didn’t regret it.

  A laugh wheezed from One-eye, and his fist hit the table. “The prissy boy has big balls,” he said with a grin.

  Aven relaxed as the Mercenary returned his attention to the game. Aven hadn’t felt any fight inside himself in a long time, not since the terrible night when his parents and betrothed were burned. Somehow, trying to save Daeymara had rekindled that part of him. He was determined not to stand by any longer. He was going to fight back.

  And yet, what could he do, locked in a cell with armed mercenaries waiting outside. Aven looked at Daeymara’s hand in his, then back at the mercenaries.

  The spiky-haired man rolled the dice. “What’s the king want with the kiehueth?”

  “Didn’t tell us,” said Dheeg. “But he wants it in a bad way.”

  “Pity,” said One-eye, “it makes a nice addition to the ship.” He put down a card.

  Dheeg rolled the dice, then laughed as the one-eyed man cursed. “That’s five in a row, Piz. Pay up.” He stretched his open hand across the table.

  Piz glared at him, then his good eye darted toward Aven. “Double or nothing on that kid in there. I say the kiehueth tortures him an entire day before he snaps his head off.”

  “You’re insane,” said Spiky-hair.

  Piz squinted. “And you’re piss-ass boring.”

  Dheeg leaned forward. “Come on,” he said to Spiky-hair. “Let’s ask the captain. No harm asking.”

  Spiky-hair shrugged. “Mhadrees said to keep him alive, but if you wanna ask, it’s your butt.”

  Dheeg turned to Piz. “I ain’t betting you anything.” He lifted his hand and rubbed his fingers together. “Pay up.”

  Piz handed him some thin strips of metal. The other two mercenaries stood. “You comin’ Piz?”

  Piz threw the rest of his cards on the table. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

  “You gonna ask the captain?” asked Spiky-hair.

  Piz stood. “Yeah, but not now. He’s too sober. Got to get him good and drunk first.”

  Laughing, the three mercenaries left, leaving cards and dice scattered across the table. Aven found his anger overwhelming his fear. He was angry at himself. He’d challenged Piz and what had it gotten him? A possible death sentence. His eyes went to the metal grating locking him in the cell. He was completely helpless trapped. His only hope was that this Mhadrees didn’t change his mind about keeping him alive.

  Aven took one last look at Daeymara’s face, then released her hand and moved over to Pike and took a knee. It was then that he saw the burn mark on Pike’s left arm.

  “They used a weapon on you,” said Aven, nodding toward the burn. “How are you feeling?”

  Sweat glistened on Pike’s rigid face. “The burn on my stomach is worse, but I’ll live,” he said.

  Pike continued to stare down at the floor. Aven surveyed the room again. He noticed a black, metal pipe affixed to the wall in the opposite corner. Beneath it, on the floor, was a small circular piece of metal with holes in it. A drain.

  Aven stood and went over to it. There was a lever on the pipe. When he turned it, water spattered from the end of the pipe onto the floor.

  “Looks like we can drink and pee in here,” said Aven.

  Pike turned his head, and his eyes came to rest on Aven’s shoes. “I can’t seem to get away f
rom you…the one person I hate the most.”

  Aven’s head snapped in Pike’s direction. A shiver ran through his body as he stared at Pike. He remembered that tone and that vicious tongue. A prickling sensation swarmed over his skin, turning his blood cold.

  The world had shifted again. The metal grate of the cell no longer separated the good from the bad.

  “They tricked me,” said Pike. “Tricked my father.” His eyes remained fixed on Aven’s shoes, staring darkly, lost in the images of his mind. “I wish I could be there to see it. To see what he does to them.”

  Aven turned the lever back up, and the water stopped. Questions raged in his mind. What had happened to the brain wipe? Had the bolt of electricity from the weapon altered Pike’s VOKK somehow?

  As Pike stared on in silence, the implications of the situation began to slide their fingers around Aven’s neck. He was trapped inside this cell with Pike. Eventually he’d need to sleep. But would it be safe? Did Pike have any weapons beside his hands?

  “What happened?” asked Aven. “The Guardians, they wiped your mind…do you remember that?”

  “I was there. Deep down, the real me was there, just locked away. Rueik. He betrayed me. He promised to help me kill you.” The last two words come out as a hiss. “I can still get what I want though.”

  Pike’s gaze drifted up to meet Aven’s.

  Murderous intent filled those red, swollen eyes. Hatred spewed from them like venom and sent spider legs scurrying up the back of Aven’s neck. He had no doubt Pike would follow through with his threat. The question was when.

  It was like a nightmare, only it was reality.

  “Rueik’s a Shadowman,” continued Pike. “I heard him tell Zoecara. She…” Pike closed his eyes as if in pain and took his head in his hands. “She’s…”

  Pike’s entire demeanor changed, as if an inner hurt was consuming him. Part of Aven wanted to kick him in the face and deliver the first blow while he had the chance, but he also saw an opportunity. Was it possible to break through Pike’s hatred for him? Cautiously, Aven walked over to Pike and put a hand on his shoulder. Pike’s breathing eased, and he opened his eyes.

  Before Aven could react, Pike jumped to his feet and punched him in the face. Aven tumbled backward onto the metal floor. Quickly, he sprang to his feet. The left side of his jaw ached as he pressed his palm against it.

  Pike glared at him. “I’m going to kill you. On my family’s grave, I swear it.” He stood there, leaning against the wall, breathing hard.

  Aven glared back, rage surging through his veins like fire. “Do it!” snapped Aven. “Come try and kill me. I’ll make it cost you. You’ll be a bloody mess when I’m done with you.”

  The harsh words felt foreign to Aven’s tongue, but they sprang naturally from somewhere deep inside, from a deep well of rage that had been too long suppressed.

  There was a glint of amusement in Pike’s eyes. “I could have killed you after they first brought you in. See the legs of Daeymara’s cot? Metal rods. Could have unscrewed one and brought it down on your unconscious face. Again. And again. And again. But I didn’t, you know why? Because I need you alive for a little bit longer.”

  Pike looked past Aven, through the metal grating of their prison. “They want to feed you to that nasty creature we passed outside in the hall. They want to see what it does to you. If I kill you, they might throw me in there. So for now, you’re my little friend. Just don’t touch me, or I’ll fuck your face up again.”

  Aven looked at the metal legs on the cot, then glanced around the room for any other weapons. He wondered if he had it in him to strike first. Wait for Pike to fall asleep and…he knew if he did, he’d have to finish it, right then and there. Kill or be killed. He saw the metal lever on the water pipe. If it could be removed, it would make a good blunt weapon. He imagined stooping down over Pike’s head while he slept. Swinging the lever down, into the side of Pike’s skull. Despite his desperation and fear, the thought made him sick.

  “Isn’t she gorgeous,” said Pike. His eyes drifted over to Daeymara. “My father would have hired her in an instant. Big, full breasts, strong legs. Look at her, completely naked. Completely unconscious.”

  “Stop!” snapped Aven.

  “Oh,” said Pike, feigning surprise. “You care about her?”

  Aven stared at him. The need to kill Pike weighed on his soul like a sick thought.

  “I swear, Aven. If I catch you coming anywhere near me—I’ll kill you, and then it will be just me and her alone in the room. You have an imagination. You understand. You try anything—you better be sure you can kill me.”

  Aven moved beside Daeymara, then dropped down beside her.

  Pike gave him an ugly smile.

  Aven looked away to Daeymara’s face.

  He didn’t need to say anything more to Pike. They understood each other. Perfectly.

  If Aven found an opportunity to kill Pike, he’d take it. He reached into his pocket and found Daeymara’s braid. He would protect her, no matter what it cost.

  Chapter Five

  AVEN

  “I feel your pain,” said a motherly voice. “All this death. All your loss.”

  Aven opened his eyes and was met by utter darkness and a sense that he was completely engulfed within something. Instinctively, he stretched out and felt resistance from every angle, as if wrapped within a slick sack. He was covered in wetness that stank like vomit. The smell filled his lungs as he gasped.

  “Save me!” shouted the voice in his ear. It came from a hard form pressed up against his stomach and face.

  Smothered, unable to breath, Aven kicked and squirmed, losing all control of his body. His lungs burned, ready to explode. Madness overtook him as he thrashed around, trying to escape the airless space.

  Suddenly he was free.

  Aven gasped and opened his eyes. He rose shakily to his feet, drawing in deep lungfuls of air. Frantically he spun in a circle, looking around him. Three dingy green walls and one metal grate enclosed him. The smell of urine came to his nose as he continued to suck in air.

  “A nightmare?” asked a familiar voice.

  Pike lay stretched out on the floor in the far corner. He blinked, as if just waking from a long sleep. He sat up and grimaced, grabbing his head with a groan.

  Aven ignored him, his thoughts going back to what he’d awakened from. It was too real. He’d never had a dream like that. Not that vivid. And the voice…he thought back on it now. It sounded like his mother’s. He’d been pressed against her in that creature’s stomach, engulfed in airless space that squeezed the very breath from his lungs.

  Somehow, that creature he’d passed earlier in the corridor was getting into his mind.

  He took another deep draught of air.

  “Where are we?” asked Pike.

  Aven looked back at him.

  “What is this place?” Pike asked again, a frail, fearful tone in his voice.

  Aven stared at him. The look Aven saw in Pike’s eyes was genuine dread.

  “What’s going on, Aven? This looks like a cell.”

  Pike’s left hand was still pressed to the side of his head.

  Was it possible? Could Pike have slipped back into his brain-wiped state? Or was he only pretending?

  “Aven!” said Pike with urgency. “Say something! What’s going on?”

  “What do you remember last? Before you woke up here?”

  Pike closed his eyes, his fingertips moving softly through his hair. “I…I think…” He took in a shaky breath. “We were all walking…to your farm. I remember looking up and seeing a ship. Way up in the sky. A starship. After that, I don’t remember anything.”

  If this was an act, it was a good one. And what did Pike have to gain by pretending? He’d already made plain who he was, what he wanted to do to Aven.

  “We’re on that ship you saw,” said Aven. “It was a mercenary ship. They’ve taken us captive.”

  Pike’s brow wrinkled, and he shook hi
s head. “Why would they take us?”

  “For our VOKKs. They’re valuable, apparently.”

  “We won’t survive that, will we?”

  “Probably not.”

  Pike stood, his eyes darting about the room. They stopped on Daeymara.

  “She’s been injured,” said Aven. “They left her in here like this.”

  The concern in Pike’s eyes brimmed over into tears. He suddenly moved toward Aven. Everything within Aven tightened.

  Pike looked like he was about to reach out and embrace Aven, but he stopped short, as if sensing something unwelcoming in Aven’s posture.

  Touch me and I’ll kill you, Pike had said earlier. Aven remained tensed, but then stepped forward and closed the distance between him and Pike.

  Pike put his arms around Aven. “I don’t know why I’m so emotional,” said Pike. “I’m sorry.” He let out a long breath. “You’re going to hate me for saying this, but I’m glad it’s you here with me. You’re the only friend I really have.”

  Aven stood there, uncertain of what to say or do. Though Pike seemed to have slipped into his brain-wiped state, would he drift back to the old Pike?

  Pike stepped back. “Is she going to be all right?”

  Aven shook his head. “She hasn’t awakened yet. I don’t know if she will.”

  He studied Pike, pondering how strange it was that a face could change so drastically. It was as if he were inhabited by a completely different person. Aven could kill him now. Pike wouldn’t know what hit him. Aven glanced down at the metal legs of Daeymara’s cot. It was then he remembered the smell of urine when he’d first awakened from the dream. On the floor beneath the cot was a puddle of urine.

  Unwanted tears stung Aven’s eyes. He bent down and saw that Daeymara had wet herself.

  “Pike, would you help me lift her cot and move it over there, to that water pipe?”

  They lifted her cot, being careful not to disturb the line attached to her arm and set her by the drain. Aven turned the lever and water came out at a slow drizzle. He began washing her legs.

 

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