The Warrior's Bride (Warriors 0f Valkred Book 3) Page 2

  I put my fingertips on the smooth screen and gingerly scrolled down the options. I found a line with a phrase that loosely translated from Valkredian to Macurian as “rider distant.”

  I thought for a moment. “Distant.” Far away. Could that be “remote?” And since Macurians didn't have flying machines, the closest term to “pilot” in our language would probably be “rider,” like the tribe members who rode on the backs of giant d'khaani lizards.

  There was a toggle next to it, outlined in green. I carefully slid it from one side to the other, and the green outline vanished.

  There. Remote piloting disabled… or at least, I hoped so.

  Next, I searched for the tracking. This was much easier – “tracking” meant much the same in Valkredian as it did in Macurian, even if the context was a bit different. Once again, I moved the toggle and the green outline disappeared.

  Now came the hardest part. I had to program the pod to find Valkred. I searched for a “destination” option. Thankfully, that word was fairly easy to translate as well. Almost every civilized world was programmed, along with countless outposts and space stations. In fact, the only option that didn't come up was Mana, which made a certain sense. After all, the last place Torqa would want her Mana slaves to run to in an emergency was their point of origin. She'd probably rather they died in the depths of space.

  I shuddered at that thought. The same could easily happen to me, if this didn't work.

  “Cexiea” came up, and I paused for a moment. It was where my life's journey had begun. Hopefully, it wouldn't end in this tiny pod.

  Finally I found “Valkred,” and tapped it. The engines surged and whined beneath me, and before I could take a breath, the pod shot out into the starlit void. I let out a yelp of surprise, my eyes widening.

  Space.

  I was flying through space for the first time in years, rather than watching it from my home. It was exhilarating, yet almost peaceful…

  Then sharp beams of red light zapped on either side of the pod, and it lurched, spinning off in one direction, then another.

  Torqa’s people had obviously detected the pod's departure. They were trying to blast me to space dust before I could get away.

  My heart pounded in my throat. All I could think about was the horror of spending my final moments alive in the cold vacuum of space, terrified, drifting in a black ocean of nothingness until my lungs froze and exploded in my chest.

  But the pod seemed to have a mind of its own. It whirled and careened gracefully, a strange ballet that kept me just out of reach of the laser blasts. Its built-in piloting systems had obviously been programmed to automatically take evasive action when required.

  I risked a glance out the tiny rear porthole, and gasped.

  I'd seen plenty of Valkredian vessels before, when they visited Macur for trade or diplomatic missions. I'd even seen the Angel's Wrath, the fang-shaped pride of their fleet. But I'd never seen anything like Torqa's ship. It was huge and black, with lethal-looking angles and protrusions. Its lines reminded me of the noi'raa panthers that prowled the caverns of Macur, always poised to spring forward and devour whatever unfortunate prey crossed their paths.

  Now I felt like that prey, living in the split-second before claws ripped through my guts and teeth sank into my throat.

  But instead of lunging toward me, the dark ship was dropping back.

  Ekaid and Lidea were right. Once they scanned the pod for life signs and saw it was just a human girl instead of their Macurian captives, they lost interest. The shots they'd taken at me had probably been perfunctory, standard procedure.

  In all the galaxy, it seemed that humans remained the most consistently underestimated race.

  If I made it safely to Valkred and found reinforcements, I hoped I'd have a chance to personally show Torqa why such prejudices were unwise.

  2

  Dhimurs

  I stood in the throne room of the Ruby Stronghold on Valkred, surrounded by towering statues of the previous Blood Rulers throughout our planet's history. I'd been in this chamber before many times, and often with bad news for Akzun – unfortunate, but unavoidable for a military commander like myself, especially during a drawn-out war like the one we'd recently had with the Mana.

  Still, it never seemed to get any easier. It felt like I wasn't just giving a bad report to Akzun, our world's current leader. Rather, it seemed like I was delivering my report to all of the Rulers that had come before him… and they were judging me harshly for it. Their sneers of cold command indicated that I had let them all down.

  Well, so be it. I’d done what I had to do.

  “When you told me that you had pressing personal business you wished to attend to, Dhimurs,” Akzun said, his fingers steepled, “I must confess, I did not expect you to return to Macur.”

  “I was somewhat surprised by my own actions in this matter as well,” I admitted. “But for some reason, I simply could not rid myself of the compulsion to do so. It felt as though something was speaking to me, pushing me to go back and take care of unfinished business there.”

  “That may well have been the case,” Akzun conceded with a shrug. “The universe is a strange place, full of unexplainable mysteries. Our recent encounter with the Lunians certainly proved that. What did you find there? You refused to say anything about it via comm when you re-entered our star system.”

  “Yes. I hope you will forgive me for that, Blood Ruler. Given the nature of what I saw, it seemed unwise to risk revealing it via comm, in case anyone might be listening to our transmissions. The news could cause a panic – or worse, invite others to interfere and further destabilize the situation.”

  “Well, well!” Zark, Akzun's brother and advisor, clapped his hands and rubbed them together dramatically. “This is all getting more intriguing by the moment. I can't wait!”

  I was ready to chastise him for his flippant attitude, and then thought better of it. Zark had been through a lot recently as well. It was easy for the rest of us to forget that he tended to use humor to hide his anxiety.

  Still, it could be damned irritating.

  “At first, I wasn't entirely certain of what I was looking for,” I began slowly. “While I was still in orbit, I scanned the planet's surface for Macurian life signs. The results were… disturbing. A vast percentage of them weren't showing up on my sensor readings.”

  Akzun pursed his lips pensively. I got the sense that he could tell what was coming, even if he didn't want to. “Go on.”

  “When I reached the planet, all I found was death and devastation. I went from village to village, only to find that the tribes had been murdered. Even the women and children.”

  As I said this, I glanced at Zark. His pale skin was turning a nasty shade of green. No jokes from him now.

  “The final village I visited,” I went on, “belonged to the N'kiiti tribe… the largest and most influential tribe, the one I'd gone to for help in liberating Zark from Torqa while she was on Macur. I found her there. She was about to kill Judy, the human girl I’d brought to them ten years ago after finding her orphaned on Cexiea.”

  “Yes, I recall that incident,” Akzun remarked. “And I saw her there during several of my visits.”

  “But instead of killing her, Torqa told me that we would all pay for interfering with her plans – and then she escaped with the girl using a portable teleportation device.”

  Zark's breath escaped him as though he'd been punched in the stomach, and he slumped. “By the Succubi! All those deaths… all because the Macurians helped you rescue me…”

  “There'll be plenty of time for such morbid musings later, Zark,” Akzun snapped. “You acted as you felt you had to, and as a result, Torqa was prevented from using Respen's book as a weapon that would have threatened the entire galaxy. Nothing can change the past. We can only do our best to control the future. Dhimurs, are you certain that none of the Macurians survived?”

  I considered it carefully. “The truth? No, I'm not. Some
of them may have fled to the caves, where the dense mineral deposits might have masked their life signs from my sensors. Perhaps I should have remained on the planet to conduct a more thorough search. As it was, I felt it would be more prudent to deliver this news to you in person as quickly as possible.”

  “And there was no sign of Torqa's ship in orbit?” Zark asked. “Or even on your long-range sensors?”

  I shook my head.

  “What about your own natural teleporting abilities?” Zark pressed. “There's no way you could have used them to go after her?”

  I scowled at him. “First of all, as you know, my gifts in that regard only work when I know where I'm going. If I were to try to blindly leap after her, I could have ended up in the vacuum of space, or half-phased into a solid surface. Besides, wherever she got that teleportation technology, it's far more advanced than anything I've ever seen before. For all I know, it might have taken her to an entirely different star system.”

  “Not likely,” Akzun mused. “As far as we know, the only race capable of transporting themselves such great distances instantaneously are the Lunians… and they use strong magic to do it, so duplicating such a feat through technology would probably be impossible.”

  “For the life of me,” Zark said, “I still can't understand why you brought a human girl to that parched hell to begin with.”

  “That 'parched hell,' as you call it, was the only world in the known galaxy that wasn't involved in some war or other at the time,” I shot back. “Except for Earth, of course… and the wars they wage are against their own people, and far more horrific than what we do to each other here among the stars. And I certainly couldn't bring her here to Valkred. Earthling women are considered quite a prize here, after all. She would have been at risk of being kidnapped by some Valkredian who wished to drain her blood and use her for his own amusement. I calculated her chances of survival, comfort, happiness. Macur seemed like the only sensible place for her. And more than that, I knew that Ekaid and Lidea were kind, generous people, who were unable to produce offspring of their own. They were grateful for the chance to take her in, and at the time, I felt I'd made the right choice.”

  Akzun nodded slowly. “All of that makes perfect sense, of course. But Dhimurs: What aren't you telling me?”

  For a moment, I was sure he'd been using the psychic abilities all Valkredians were born with to read my thoughts without my permission, and I was angered by the violation. Then I realized he hadn't needed to. Akzun was a wise ruler, and clearly – from my expression and tone – he'd figured out that there was more to this all on his own.

  “The truth, Blood Ruler, is that I'm certain that the reason I was called to the planet is because Judy and I are destined to be mates.”

  Akzun stood, pacing the throne room. I'd seen him do this before, when he'd been inwardly debating the best course of action to proceed.

  Finally, he said, “The Xehrulians have an old saying: 'Once one has eliminated the impossible, whatever remains – no matter how improbable – must be the truth.' Since we don't believe Torqa's teleportation device could actually take her to another star system, then we're left with the conclusion that her ship was in orbit, unseen, undetectable by your sensors.”

  “How could that be?”

  “I don't know. But I can think of someone who might.” Akzun turned to Zark. “Contact M'ruvev immediately. Tell him it's urgent – I must speak to him at once.”

  Zark nodded, tapping the keys of a nearby communication console. Less than a minute later, a holographic projection of M'ruvev – the ruler of the Mana – appeared on the floor of the chamber.

  “Akzun, my old friend,” M'ruvev acknowledged with a nod. “I had hoped that the cessation of hostilities between our races would put an end to 'urgent' calls like this one. Clearly, that was wishful thinking on my part. What can I do for you?”

  “I'll respect your time by trying to be as succinct as possible,” Akzun answered. “During the war between our people, we received intel that your military was attempting to develop cloaking technology that would successfully hide its ships from our scans. I need to know how close they came to making that a reality.”

  M'ruvev laughed, revealing rows of tiny teeth. “Akzun, have I ever told you that my father was the one who trained me to fight? He knew fifty ways to take a life, but he only taught me forty-nine. The last one he withheld, he said, in the event that he might one day have to use it on me. So you must forgive my suspicious nature, given the manner in which I was raised. I am grateful for the treaty, and I do consider you a friend, as you know. But I am still the leader of my people. Why should I compromise their security in the event of future conflict between us by revealing such things to you? Does that seem wise?”

  “Because it is in both our interests that you do so.”

  M'ruvev's smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “Torqa.”

  “Yes. As you know, the Mana remain her primary target. And it appears as though she's gained possession of cloaking tech. She won't hesitate to use it against you. She might even already be on her way to your home world. Telling me about your own cloaking research is the best way to ensure that we'll be able to get between her and you, before it's too late.”

  M’ruvev sighed heavily. “Very well, then. The truth? We weren't even close to developing a fully functional cloak for a vessel, let alone mass-producing one for our entire fleet.” Then he frowned suddenly.

  “What is it?” Zark demanded. “Is there something you haven't told us yet?”

  “It's probably nothing,” M'ruvev fretted. “But… a little over a week ago, the head scientist who was working on the cloaking technology was found dead in his lab, an apparent suicide. He left a note saying he deeply regretted his role in attempting to fashion a weapon with such devastating potential in battle. We were unable to find his notes, so naturally, we assumed he'd vaporized them. It was a tremendous setback, to be sure.”

  “Not to mention a damned suspicious one,” Akzun mused. “The scientist working on cloaking tech dies, his notes vanish, and a few days later, Torqa's ship is capable of turning invisible. Be careful, M'ruvev. From the sound of it, you've got a spy on Mana.”

  “I'd be surprised if there were only one. Thank you for your concern, Akzun. Please remain in touch to let me know what you find out. If an attack on our people is imminent…”

  “Then Valkred will be fighting right beside you. Akzun out.”

  The holographic image flickered, and then disappeared.

  “By the stars,” I breathed, troubled. “We knew Torqa had access to limited personal cloaking tech for her people, but an entire ship? And one with the size and firepower of the Dezmodon? We'd be defenseless against such an onslaught.”

  “We're Valkredians,” Akzun snapped. “We're never defenseless. And whatever one person can invent, another can circumvent. We just need more information to figure out how.”

  Before I could ask how we were supposed to collect such information, a messenger ran into the throne room, panting. “Blood Ruler! An escape pod has crashed just outside the city! Its exact configuration isn't in any of our records, but its markings appear to be Valkredian… and we've detected a human life sign inside!”

  Akzun and I exchanged looks. “Let's go,” he said.

  We hurried outside and spread our feathered black wings, flapping and soaring up into the night sky. Within minutes, we'd reached the sight of the crash. The downed escape pod had left a streak of scorched and torn-up land behind it and was currently resting in a smoldering crater with plumes of smoke coming off it. The Valkredian workers were doing their best to pry open the dented hatch.

  When they finally did, the pod's lone occupant was revealed, and I exhaled sharply.

  It was Judy.

  Unconscious, a bit bruised and scraped up – but, mercifully, alive.

  3

  Judy

  My eyes fluttered open, and the first thing I saw was a familiar face: Dhimurs, looking
down at me with his large, intense eyes – brown, with red sparks dancing in them. He brushed his curly reddish hair out of his face. His magnificent feathered wings were extended, and that – combined with his skin, so pale it almost seemed to glow – made him look like some sort of majestic statue come to life. He was so handsome that for a moment, I forgot where I was and how I came to be there. Having all of his attention focused on me was unsettlingly magnetic, like staring into an eclipse.

  “Judy. Are you all right?”

  I breathed in, and felt a sharp ache in my sides. The last thing I remembered was the escape pod's screen blinking an angry shade of red as it started to enter Valkred's atmosphere.

  “Don't try to move,” Dhimurs went on. “You had a hard landing. The inertial dampeners in the pod appear to have shorted out just before impact, and you've sustained minor injuries in the resulting crash. You'll need medical attention.”

  As if on cue, a female Valkredian wearing the ceremonial robes of a healer crouched over me, examining my wounds. I'd seen others wearing her raiment – whenever Valkredian rulers visited Macur, they always had healers with them in case of emergencies. A sound policy, to be sure.

  “Then… I made it?” I croaked. My Valkredian was a bit rusty, but I hoped I could make myself understood to him. “I'm on Valkred?”

  “Yes, Judy.”

  My name again. Coming from Dhimurs' lips, it sounded like heaven. “When you saw me on Macur,” I whispered, “I wasn't sure whether you recognized me. It's been so long…”

  “We Valkredians have uncommonly long lifespans, remember? To me, it seems like just yesterday I brought you to Macur. Even though clearly, you've grown up quite a bit since then. You've become a lovely young woman.”

  The compliment was strange, coming from someone so serious. His tone was brusque, and saying the words seemed to make him uncomfortable. Still, it brought a smile to my face, despite my cracked lips. “Thank you.”