Her Father's Fugitive Throne

by Brandon Barr

  Finally, he found a key that fit, and the lock popped open. Aven dragged Piz inside, then shut the door. It clicked automatically into a locked position. Aven placed the keys in his pocket, beside Daeymara’s braid, making a mental note which key was the right one.

  “I saw that thing go by,” said Pike. The coldness in his tone told Aven that the old Pike was back again. “What happened?”

  “They made a mistake,” said Aven. “It got out.”

  “But why are you still alive? I thought they were going to feed you to it.”

  “They tried.” Aven knelt beside Piz to examine his wound, then glanced up, suddenly aware of someone missing in the room. “They took Daeymara?”

  Pike nodded. The pounding and snarling continued in the distance. “They took her to cryo freeze.”

  Aven stared down at the empty cot, his VOKK interpreting cryo freeze…they were preserving her body.

  “Maybe we should find someplace else to hide,” said Pike. “While that thing is distracted.”

  “You really want to take your chances out there?” asked Aven.

  Metal shrieked in the distance as a door gave way. Alarmed shouts echoed.

  Pike’s gaze met Aven’s. A silent understanding passed between them. They wouldn’t be safe staying inside the cell. The creature could easily break through the door.

  “I’m getting out of here,” said Pike.

  “Where are you going to go?”

  “Open the door, now!” Pike demanded, suddenly sounding unnerved.

  Aven drew out the keys and unlocked the door. Pike ran out of the room and took off down the corridor in the opposite direction the kiehueth had taken.

  Aven looked around. Pike was right. This cell was a trap, and if the creature decided to smash its way in here, there was nowhere to run to.

  The shriek of metal ripping, followed by a scream that went on and on, convinced him that he needed to move.

  Aven hurried out of the cell and shut the door behind him. It made a loud click as the lock closed, sealing Piz inside. Only Aven could get in or out. Pike was on his own now. Aven put the keys back in his pocket. If he needed back inside, the key would only need a quick turn, and he could hurry in.

  Aven looked down the corridor, in the direction Pike had gone. He started to head that way, then paused. Pike had gone to the rear of the starship, toward the hold where the mercenaries had unloaded them off their land riders. But what would he do if he went there? Hide until the monster rooted him out? He thought about what little he knew about ships. If this ship was like the Guardian’s ship, then the bridge should be at the front. If he could get to the bridge, his VOKK might help him figure out how to fly the ship. He might even be able to return to Loam. It seemed a fragile hope, but he’d never know unless he tried.

  The problem was that the creature had gone that way and was up there, somewhere. Aven had never seen the forward part of the ship. Were there other corridors that he could use to get around the creature? If there was only this corridor, then he would have to turn back, or he’d come face-to-face with it.

  Aven made his decision and forced his legs to move, quietly making his way forward. The screaming had stopped. A distant clanking of metal was the only sound ahead. Hopefully, the sound was being made by the creature. As long as he could hear it, gauge how far away it was, he could keep moving.

  At a bend in the corridor, Aven cautiously stuck his head around the corner.

  The corridor was empty. The clanking sound was louder.

  He moved forward, careful to be as quiet as possible. There was another turn in the corridor up ahead. When Aven peered around it, the clanking noise stopped.

  That stretch of corridor was also empty. There were several doors along it. Each had a small porthole, but they were dark. Aven’s heart pounded. Why had the clanking stopped? Did he dare go forward in the silence? Was the creature waiting around the next turn, ready to pounce on him? When nothing happened, he seized his courage and darted forward, stopping at the first door. Frantically, he pushed a button on a panel to the side of the door. It slid open, and a light turned on inside. The room was very small, with an unmade bed. Clothes were strewn about on the floor. Clearly a mercenary’s personal quarters.

  The clanking sound resumed. It was not too distant, and Aven was almost certain it was the sound of the creature’s heavy feet as it walked about.

  Aven hurried to the next door and opened it. Again, another bedroom. This stretch of corridor appeared to be the living quarters on the ship. Aven counted eight doors. After the last one, there was another bend in the corridor.

  He could make his way up to the bend and look around it. If the creature was there, he’d have a room close by he could duck into.

  Slowly, quietly, he moved forward, pausing at the bend as the clanking abruptly stopped. He thought of the nearest door, only a few steps behind him. Slowly, he looked around the corner.

  Instead of another stretch of corridor, he saw a small, rectangular room with two doors leading out of it. One of the doors had been ripped free, and as Aven stared through the opening, he saw a large window that looked out onto a bright swarm of stars. It was a sight he’d never seen, brighter starlight than he could have imagined.

  More clanking sounds and the large form of the kiehueth moved into sight, blocking the starlight.

  Aven froze. The tip of the kiehueth’s snout stuck through the doorway, the nostril slits expanding and contracting as it sniffed. Aven spun back around and nearly fell against the closest door. He pressed the button, and the door opened with a soft whirr. He slipped inside the room, and the lights came on. Immediately he hit a button to close the door.

  “Room lights off,” said Aven, his voice trembling.

  The room went dark, except for the light coming through the porthole. Aven pressed up close to the wall, watching the corridor through the porthole.

  For a time, he saw nothing.

  He heard only the sound of his own heartbeat.

  Then the kiehueth was there.

  The huge head came around the bend in the corridor where he’d stood moments before, followed by its full bulk. It stopped outside his door.

  Aven stepped back and sank to the floor, fearful the creature might see him peering through the glass. He felt around with his hands, frightened he’d bump something and make a sound. Kneeling, he looked up at the porthole. It went dark as the creature moved in front of it and blocked the light.

  He felt a tug at the back of his mind. He fell backward onto the floor with a loud thud. He thrust his hands against the sides of his head, but he could do nothing as his consciousness slipped into another place, no longer in his body.

  Filling his vision was the mouth of the kiehueth, its sickle teeth sliding open. The tongue emerged and came toward him. On its tip was the small blue wing of Winter’s butterfly, Whisper.

  The tongue slid back into the gaping mouth. The wet muzzle dropped down toward Aven. He tried to flee, but he couldn’t move. The muzzle pressed up against the side of his face, then moved down, to the soft, vulnerable skin of his throat. It stopped there, just under Aven’s chin. He could feel the hot breath on his skin, the saliva dripping down.

  Suddenly, it moved away. Leaving him lying there...wherever there was. Aven focused his mind and found himself drawn back. Back to the small bedroom.

  Light once again came through the porthole above him.

  Aven sat up and put his hand to his neck, which was dry. He stared at the door. It was still closed. The creature had not come inside. It had been only another one of its mind games.

  Shakily, Aven stood. He forced himself to look out the porthole. The corridor was empty.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  AVEN

  Aven looked out the porthole again as he took another bite of the chewy stick of spiced meat he’d found in the bedroom. He was starving. How long had it been since the meal Piz brought him in the cell? How long had he been inside that holding pen with the mo
nster? It was impossible to know when there was no night or day on the ship, especially with the mental tortures the creature inflicted on him. Each time he was pulled out of himself into some horrific dream, he ended up with another block of time he could not account for.

  He sat back on the bed. He was tempted to simply stay in the room. He’d found a stash of food, and a sleek metal wash basin opposite the door produced all the water he needed. He had everything he needed here for a long time. But what would happen when the monster returned? And who was flying the ship? Was anybody flying it, or were they racing blindly through space?

  Much as he didn’t want to leave the relative safety of this room, he knew he had to get to the bridge. There was a real chance his VOKK could help him navigate the instruments that controlled the ship. If he could find a way to turn back to Loam and reunite with his sister...that was worth taking any risk.

  If he could get the ship turned around, he could return to these living quarters and hide out once again. Would he be able to survive in here for the journey back? It should only take a few days at most. But he might not survive that long. He’d seen what the kiehueth had done to the door to the bridge. No door was going to stop that monster.

  Aven looked out the porthole again. The sooner he turned the ship around, the less time he’d have to spend trying to stay alive.

  He stood and searched the room quickly. He found a knife, a device that created a flame when a button was pressed—lighter, the VOKK told him—and a small, cloth pack. He pocketed the knife and the lighter, and started to make his way to the door, but he changed his mind and turned back. Who knew what would happen? He might not make it back here.

  He stuffed food that he’d found in a box under the bed into the pack and slipped the straps over his shoulders. He finished off the meat stick and tossed the wrapper down.

  A tremor shook the room. Then another.

  Aven moved to the door carefully to look through the porthole. The corridor outside was still empty. A violent quake shook the room. Then Aven noticed something had changed. The lights in the corridor had turned red.

  The VOKK supplied him with the information that red meant danger or be cautious. Aven wondered what was happening. That animal had been roaming around, killing men, and the lights hadn’t turned red. What was different now?

  A violent shudder knocked Aven to the ground. He struggled to stand, bracing himself against the door. The entire ship seemed to be convulsing. Aven looked out the porthole once more and saw that the corridor was still clear. He pushed the button that opened the door and it slid open just as another tremor spilled Aven into the corridor. He braced himself against the opposite wall, hardly able to stand. He moved forward as quickly as he could. At the bend, he looked around to make sure the creature wasn’t there. The whole ship was shaking, and his ears were filled with the agitated shrieks of metal.

  Beyond the crumpled door to the bridge, a strange sight filled the large window. Where before the window had looked out on swarms of bright, shining stars, now he saw the circular shape of a planet, rapidly drawing closer.

  Aven moved forward, his hands out, feet spread wide, trying to balance himself. He made it across the small room but stumbled over the wreckage of the door and fell facedown onto the floor.

  Flashing red lights bathed the crescent-shaped bridge in crimson. Lying on the floor beside him was a severed hand, blood spattered around it. Whether the hand belonged to Captain Mhadrees or the other mercenary was impossible to tell. Aven crawled across the floor on his hands and knees as the violent shaking continued, carefully maneuvering around the bloody hand.

  There were three chairs arrayed before the instrument panel, which looked similar to the one he’d seen on the Guardian starship. Aven crawled into one of the chairs. Once there, he noticed there were straps on it. The VOKK revealed their purpose in a rapid succession of information. Suddenly, several confusing things became clear.

  The shuddering was not a bad thing. It was normal.

  The straps were used for when a ship was entering a planet’s atmosphere.

  There was more information that Aven didn’t fully understand, but he’d learned what he most needed to for right then.

  Aven clicked the straps into place around his waist and over his shoulders. Outside the large window the planet grew larger and larger. It filled nearly the entire window now, the stars receding into the fringes.

  A terrible thought occurred to Aven. A fearful thought.

  If this planet they were approaching was the one he’d heard the mercenaries talking about—where the VOKKs and the kiehueth were to be delivered—then this was probably a Beast world he was looking at. More than anything, he did not want to go there.

  Aven’s eyes ran over the instrument panel, seeking direction from the VOKK. Every button and toggle he looked at, every switch and indicator his eyes passed over, had some purpose that was so far beyond his understanding, learning just one of the hundreds of items on the panel would have led him down an endless path of one definition after another. He didn’t have that much time.

  Aven noted that the shuddering was dramatically easing. He also noticed that the stars were entirely gone from sight. The ground was coming up fast. How much longer did he have? He could see very tall mountains in the distance. Black smoke poured from some of the peaks. Volcanoes reported the VOKK, giving him a description of their fiery insides. There were huge walls, nearly the height of the mountains themselves, filling in the gaps between ridges and peaks, making of the mountains a huge, impenetrable fortress.

  The ship was clearly heading for the mountains. It was then the VOKK helped him understand that a starship could travel on its own, to an exact location it was programmed to go to.

  He needed to do something, and he needed to do it quickly. He leaned forward and took the steering controller in his hands. At his touch, the entire panel glowed yellow.

  Carefully, he turned the controller to the left. His stomach lurched as the ship responded.

  A smile touched his lips. It was incredible. He was flying a starship. The view out the window continued to pan left, away from the mountains with their enormous walls. Beyond the mountains was a wide stretch of barren land. Past that he saw more mountains in the distance.

  He noticed the ground was still getting nearer. The shapes of individual hills stood out now, and winding lines that the VOKK told him were trails. These trails crossed the landscape, heading for the mountains.

  Here and there across the barren expanse were what looked like settlements. He spotted a large structure that might be a castle of some kind, but it was impossible to tell from this high up. The mountains on the far side of the barren land were growing closer. He could see green, rolling hills led up to the mountains, which were a maze of tall, intimidating peaks swathed in thick forest.

  He turned the ship a little more, hoping to make for the green hills. From here, it looked like it might be good farmland. There might be farmers there who could help him. But his hopes of making it there were dimming. The ground was coming up fast, and there were bleak, rocky peaks scattered everywhere. Already, he was lower than some of them. He needed to gain altitude.

  Aven tried tilting the steering controls upward, but nothing happened. His eyes searched the instrument panel for an answer. He knew there was a way to make the ship climb, but he was running out of time to discover it.

  Perspiration broke out across his forehead as a second problem materialized. He was moving incredibly fast. The ground below was racing by in a blur. A peak appeared ahead, and he realized he was flying straight toward it.

  He turned the controls hard, veering back to the right. The peak moved off to the side. But unless he did something soon, he was going to crash.

  He barely cleared an up-thrust knob of rock. More outcroppings appeared. His heart pounding in his chest, turned again, away from them. Ahead was a smooth, sandy basin.

  A sharp ping sounded from the ship, and a strong male voice
said calmly, “Brace for impact. Immediate impact.”

  At once, the ship braked hard, thrusting Aven’s body against the straps holding him to the chair.

  The ship was attempting to slow down on its own.

  He heard a loud explosion and felt a jolt. The VOKK informed him that the ship had discarded a part of itself, but he didn’t understand why, nor did he care at present.

  The oncoming dusty landscape filled the entire viewscreen. Aven released the controls and gripped the straps.

  The ground was rushing up like a fist.

  Too fast!

  He closed his eyes.

  The force of the impact whipped Aven’s head forward. His vision dimmed, and all he saw was a rim of light through thousands of black dots. Metal twisted. The walls thudded and popped as outside objects collided with the ship’s frame and inside objects flew about. The blackness in Aven’s mind ebbed and flowed, and he was dimly aware of the sensation of rolling, as if he were tumbling head over heels down a hill, but at such a speed that his insides spun and pressed chaotically against every wall of his body. Time dragged amidst the chaos, and it seemed a long time before the rolling motion slowed. There was a sense of falling, and then a crash and a groan of metal.

  Then all was still.

  HEARTH

  “Why not use the Mind Scries? Or have one of the Guardians twist his VOKK. Why risk Hezzat causing more trouble?”

  “If we control the Cultivator’s mind, then who will test our weaknesses? I own Zeyfir, his warden and all the key Guardians at the Tower. There is little to risk and much to gain.”

  “He is suspicious—and deeply curious of what goes on in the temple. You’ve seen his latest transmissions to Higelion.”