An ache bit into Jàden. Always alone.
Jon didn’t want her comfort. Only Agnar seemed to understand her pain as he nudged her shoulder for attention. She wrapped her arms around the stallion’s neck and leaned against his soft fur. “We’re both alone now, aren’t we?”
Silver storm clouds glittered across a bend in the river. The slow current swirled the pooling water. She could take Agnar and leave. Untie her energy from Jon and disappear so she’d no longer be a burden to him. But without any technology to navigate her toward Kale, following the trees would probably have her riding in circles.
Jàden breathed deeply of the frigid air and wrapped her hands on either side of a young sequoia, the fine bark hairs tickling her fingers. They were still west of the sea from what she could tell.
“We should go now, before they’re gone.” She grabbed Agnar’s bridle, but the thought of riding anywhere without Jon tightened the knot in her chest. She ached to comfort him and feel his strong hand slide along her knee.
You belong to Kale, some small voice in her head chided.
Except tonight she needed Jon to soothe her guilt so her heart didn’t hurt. Someone who offered warmth and connection.
When had she become so pathetic?
There had to be another way to find Kale, something that wouldn’t require months in a saddle or technology she didn’t possess.
The movement of the river grabbed her attention again. It was the lifeblood of the Sandarin moon, from the heart at its core to the webbed rivers across its surface. If anything could track Kale’s energy in life or death, it was the water that gave Sandaris life and the essence of each person safe between lives. The moon’s gentle rhythm beat alongside her heart, almost as if it heard her thoughts.
She caressed Agnar’s nose then tied him to a nearby tree using a knot her grandfather had taught her years ago—one a horse couldn’t slip out of.
“Help me find him.” She skimmed her fingers along the surface of the water. Jàden pulled the firemark out of her pocket and used the Flame’s destructive power to shatter the smooth glass.
Warmth flowed through her arms into the firemark as millions of bacteria multiplied and spread along her hands.
She couldn’t see it, but the power in the tiny creatures sent shivers up her spine as she stepped into the icy water. Chill bumps rose on her skin as she moved deeper, the cold penetrating every nerve and cell until she could barely breathe. Dipping her hands into the river, the bacterium flowed away from her into the current.
The bacteria touched the Flame as she did, but their power didn’t act unruly like hers.
Agnar splashed into the water, the reins loose. He grunted at her like he was showing off, and she could almost see his smugness in the way he lifted his tail.
“Fine, smarty horse.” Hopefully he’d stay close because she wouldn’t go chasing after him.
The river remained dark, a tingle spreading through Jàden’s limbs. She turned her attention back to the water and took a deep breath, immersing herself beneath the surface. Dropping to the muddy bottom, the waters twisted around her, tugging her loose clothing and swirling her long hair about her head.
Show me what I want to see, she silently begged to the moon’s lifeblood.
She dug her fingers into the loose dirt to hold back her anxiety. It had been years since she’d tried this, and the last time, Sandaris had clung to her psyche, binding the heart of its energy to her.
But through their connection, she’d sensed the sickness plaguing the soil and why terraforming Sandaris had failed.
Jàden closed her eyes as the familiar whisper from the heart of the moon delved deep into her mind. Branching out like tree roots, the sensation roared through her, opening neural pathways.
I need to find Kale.
The whisper of the moon’s heart was not a true voice but a rumbling growl that vibrated her body.
Visions of rivers and oceans filled her thoughts as saw through the moon’s senses.
Sandaris whisked her inner sight over rocky terrain, through vast waterways and stormy seas as if searching each energy spark—both alive and yet unborn.
Kale. Where are you? Time to go back to the beginning.
Each crash of the ocean’s waves along the shore created a gentle susurration against a lonely rock and water world, showing her Sandaris as it once was, four thousand years ago.
Seedlings sprouted. Algae and millweed bloomed. Green life burst through soil and carpeted the plains. Golden sands blazed across the Ocean of Fire, while further north of the desert, vibrant leaves opened toward brilliant azure skies.
This must have been how Sandaris healed. Jàden bit her lip at the ache in her chest from holding her breath.
This time, the moon’s heartbeat seemed to be a gentle agreement. Once lonely and dying, it showed her how its former sickness retreated under a blossoming, green world. Bacteria mined from its heart fed the soil, nourished the seas, restored the natural pulse until life breathed from its surface.
“Sandaris,” she mouthed, her voice lost in the current. Her moon.
She slid her fingers out of the dirt and let whispers of lost souls slide across her fingertips.
Mather was here, anguished for his lost love.
Jàden clenched her hands against a wave of guilt.
No, I need to find Kale.
But Mather’s anguish brought back her own loss and the insidious words Frank used to taunt her with. You’re gonna wish you’d never been born.
“No!” A bubble escaped her throat as she covered her ears. Stay out of my head!
She’d heard enough of Frank’s taunts to last a lifetime, and these past few weeks, she’d fought to stay hidden from him. Sandaris rushed her mind over green fields until they gave way to dark tunnels and steel-piped hallways. The corridor widened into a docking bay, a silver ship’s seams pulsing with a faint orange glow.
Kale. He’s on Sandaris.
Jàden tried to imprint herself with every detail. Her lungs burned, but she was so close. He was somewhere near the Ocean of Fire, on the other side of the moon.
Welded steel doors opened into a narrow hall until a thick-bearded, scraggy face hovered, a green laser light effect to show a hypersleep pod’s occupant. The sides of the man’s head were shaved into a mohawk, deep lines wrinkling the corners of his eyes.
Frank.
Still alive. But asleep. He wasn’t chasing her.
Relief ripped through her, and she nearly laughed, pressing her hands over her mouth to stifle losing anymore of her breath.
Sandaris had found the wrong Kale.
Frank Kale, her ex’s father, and he couldn’t harm her from the inside of a hypersleep pod. This was the best news she’d had since waking up.
I need Jason Kale. Hurry. Her air was running out, and she didn’t want to start again.
But just as she was about to break the connection for a breath of air, Frank’s hologram disappeared. His pod’s cover glass faded from smoky black to transparency, hypersleep serum glowing green.
Frank Kale’s eyes popped open.
“Oh, shit.” Jàden let out a gasp, the water filling her lungs. Panic seized her throat as she pushed off the muddy bottom.
An iron grip pulled her above the surface, Jon’s face hovering inches from hers. “Are you trying to get us killed?”
She coughed up water and gasped for air, her knees weak in the current. What had she done? Jàden tried to recall the last few details before the visions pushed her underground, but her heart pounded so hard her chest hurt.
“He’s awake,” was all she could manage.
And it was her fault. She’d woken him up, and once Frank realized she wasn’t in her pod, he would be furious.
“I gotta get out of here,” she said.
Jon grabbed her cheeks, forcing her to look at him. “How many damn times I gotta tell you, woman? No magic. We have to get the fuck out of this place.”
She yanked out of his grasp. “I’ll use the Flame if I want to. If you’d kept your mouth shut, I could have saved Mather.”
“No one could have saved him,” Jon growled at her. “Look at this shit!”
Water lifted off the surface of the river, tiny droplets glowing crimson and soaring high into the storm clouds.
Power.
The bacteria were supposed to stay dark, but they’d lit up anyway as they drew on the Flame’s energy. They’d become a river of blood disappearing into the landscape.
“Now you’ve just told every damn soldier in these woods where we are,” Jon said.
“I fucked up, okay?” The moment Frank had a ship in the air, he’d know where she was. No time to fight with Jon. She grabbed his arms and dug her fingers in. “We have to hide. Frank’s waking up. He’s going to hurt me again.”
Jàden couldn’t bear another cage. For the loneliness to tick away the years in solitude, always alone.
Fat snowflakes fell on Jon’s head, scattering across his dark hair. Anger lurked in his eyes. “Frank. The man who tortured you?”
She nodded, Kale’s words sliding from her tongue. “Five minutes to wake up. Fifteen minutes to the ship. Frank will be here in thirty.”
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Hypersleep-to-combat, something few Enforcers could do well, but all of them were forced to learn. Kale trained many of them and admitted the soldiers were given an adrenaline patch upon waking. Without one, it could take up to an hour to function well enough to fly a starship.
Jàden had no doubt Frank knew as much as his son did.
The visions rolled back through her head. Silver sands across the Ocean of Fire then the long dark hallway to a silver fighter perched in the docking bay. Frank was already inside a ship, and if it still flew, he’d be awake and in the air in under fifteen minutes.
“We have to leave.” She dug her fingers in deeper so Jon would understand her desperation.
“Dry off before you get sick. Go.” Jon nodded toward the shore.
Jàden grabbed Agnar’s reins and trudged out of the water. Goosebumps prickled her icy skin.
“Let’s pack it up. We got an enemy on our ass,” Jon shouted to the others.
“Yes, Captain.” His men were already packed, gathering gear and saddling the horses. Did they know something she didn’t?
“Mather’s clothes won’t fit, but at least they’re dry.” He shoved a bundle into her hands before stripping off his pants.
She turned away to give him privacy and dropped the bundle near the fire. She didn’t like the idea of undressing in front of seven men, but one glance at the storm clouds and her fear uncurled.
Frank could have a ship above them before they reached the next city. She stripped down and dressed as fast as she could, using one of Mather’s belts to hold the oversized pants in place. His boots had burned with his body, but at least he had dry socks.
I’m wearing a dead man’s clothes. Jàden tried to ignore the thought as she wrapped her wet clothing in a blanket.
Jon tugged his sleeves down to his wrist to wrap a bracer around his arm. “Same as last time. Stay by my side, no matter what happens. I don’t want you out of my sight.”
A dark shadow passed over his expression, something that hadn’t been present when he’d pulled away from her earlier. Something must have happened, but now wasn’t the time to ask about it.
Jàden wrapped her hand in Agnar’s mane and tried to pull herself up, but she could barely get her foot off the ground. The strain burned her arms.
Jon lifted her into the saddle as if she weighed nothing. “Right by my side.”
The order left no room for argument. She held no illusions about the danger they were all in. Frank would have a ship, targeting software and weapons. The kind that could blow up a base, just like in Meridan.
She tugged up her hood to hide her face.
Once Frank’s ship was in the air, the external cameras could spot her. Jàden pushed all traces of her hair inside her shirt and lowered her head.
Jon nudged his horse alongside hers. “If you get tired, ride with me.”
Fatigue was the last thing on her mind. Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she gathered Agnar’s reins.
“Jon, listen.”
If Frank or Bradshaw caged her again, she might spend an eternity as a broken shell. “Don’t let them take me alive. Kill me if you have to.”
As the others disappeared into the trees, Jon grabbed her cheek, a dangerous edge in his eyes. “No one’s going to touch you.”
They raced after the others, and Jàden could only hang on as she adjusted to Agnar’s gait. She searched the sky for traces of light to alert her to a ship. Only clouds and snow.
Bitter ice blew against her nose. Jàden curled one hand around the reins, the other in Agnar’s thick mane hairs. His gait was so different than the captain’s black, rougher with a slight off-step. Something both she and her aching shoulder would need to get used to.
Cold and fatigue already tugged at her body, but the smells and sounds of Sandaris breathed life into her soul. She wasn’t about to let Frank take that away.
Jàden kept one eye on the sky as they raced away from the crimson river.
“Jon.” She shifted her horse closer, trying to find the right words in his language. Her head throbbed, and finally she growled and switched to her own dialect.
“He’ll have cameras on his ship. Object profiling. Heat sensors. I could hide in the darkest hole, and Frank would still find me. We—”
“Stop.” He held up his hand, reining his horse in front of her.
“I don’t know half of what you said.”
His men slowed their horses, something silent passing between them she didn’t understand.
Jon fixed her with his steady gaze, switching the words back to his language. “We’ve got two options, Jàden: run or fight.
Wardens in these parts kill every northerner who comes within a league of the southern cities. The Rakir are hunting us, and they’ve come further south than any northman has in more than a century.”
“And let’s not forget what will happen when the Elbren realize we have their Guardian. Those temple worshippers are fanatical in their devotion.” The blond man, every muscle in his body rigid, sat astride a black-and-rust horse. “Just like those glass—”
Jon held up his fist, silencing the blond man with no more than a gesture.
“We’ve got enemies on every side and only one way out.” Jon lowered his arm and turned his horse about to face his men. “Jàden and I are leaving these lands. We’ll be sailing to the Dark Isle.”
This was something she definitely agreed with and nudged her horse alongside him to show her support. They’d found those still living, and it was time to chase the dead. Whatever lay across the sea, it would give her a shot to put some distance between her and Frank.
“You can’t be serious. No human has ever returned from that place. The mountains would be safer.” The blond man—Thomas maybe?—had hard, angry lines tightening his jaw. “We can circle west and slip past—”
“No one’s forcing you to go,” Jon said. “You’re all free men now, so if you want to leave this company, we part here as brothers.”
The tension in Jon’s shoulders gave his nerves away. Whether to leave the Northern Isle or that his men might disappear, she wasn’t certain. Jàden glanced at the sky, obscured by thick sequoia branches heavy with pine needles. This conversation would only slow them down.
“We need to go,” she muttered to Jon.
Thomas glared at both of them. “Of course I’m coming. That’s not the point. The Dark Isle could put all of us in greater danger. You have no idea what’s out there. We know these mountains—”
“Bullshit.” Ashe, one of the twin brothers, kept his voice steady and hushed. He had half a dozen small daggers sheathed across his chest. “We don’t know the Forbidden Mountains any better than what’s beyond the next hilltop. Hareth is out there with a thousand Rakir hunting for that key. The wardens just killed one of our brothers, and now some asshole is searching for this woman, probably to make sure he finishes her off.”
The word “key” caught Jàden’s ears like a beacon.
Keys opened doors. Except on Hàlon where they were all secured with light pads and biometrics readers. Even small items like lock boxes used print scanners. Unless someone was a collector, her world had done away with all types of key—except six.
She grabbed Jon’s arm. “You have a gate key?”
A computerized gemstone wrapped in coded nelané steel could open the gate fire between Sandaris and the starship. If Jon possessed a pendant, it changed everything. She could get back to Hàlon and use a computer to find Kale’s new body within minutes.
She wanted to beg Jon to show her—she’d never seen one in person before. But the thought of Frank possessing such power only carved another wound in the terror elevating her heartrate.
“If Hareth knows we have a Guardian, Rakir are probably after her, too.” Ashe’s voice lowered. “They won’t stop until we’re all swinging from the gallows and the captain’s in chains.”
“Ashe is right,” his twin Andrew said. “At least beyond the boundary we have a chance to survive. To stop running and put down some roots. Not even Hareth knows what lurks on the Dark Isle. I’m with the captain.”
“Same here,” Ashe muttered.
“Dusty and I go where you go, Captain,” Theryn said.
“Speaking for your wife again, Theryn?” Andrew laughed, dodging a kick from the dark-skinned man.
“He’s right.” Dusty glared at Andrew. “Theryn and I follow the captain. Doesn’t matter where we go as long as it ain’t here.”
Malcolm grunted. “We’ll need a cargo ship.”
Jon nodded. “Good. We ride for Nelórath.”
“How large is that city?” Jàden asked.
All eyes turned toward her.
Frank would be able to see almost anything from the sky, to track their path from the campsite, count how many horses they traveled with. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t know from his computer readouts, but in a large city filled with people, he wouldn’t be able to track a single heat signature.
“Nelórath is large enough, but it still leaves us with one giant problem, Captain.” Thomas pointed at Jàden. “Her.”
Irritation flushed her cheeks. This guy obviously didn’t like her. Probably blamed her for Mather’s death too.
Thomas clenched and unclenched his hand then stretched out his arm as if trying to relieve muscle pain, something she’d seen injured horses do in the past. “City laws are the same down here. If she’s dressed like a man, wardens will arrest her and we’re all done for.”
Jàden glanced at her clothing, a thick, wool tunic woven with greens and browns to blend into the woods over thick riding breeches.
“Don’t worry, boys. I’m the expert in women here.” Theryn grinned and winked at her. “Come on, Dusty. Let’s head toward the city and find a dress for Heartbreaker.”
Jàden’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as she turned away from their lingering eyes. She could almost feel the judgment in these men, as if she was somehow cursed to be born a woman. She wrangled Agnar away from them and edged toward the boundary at the copse of trees, searching for any light in the sky.
“Someone throw a knife at him,” Jon muttered as the two men raced away. “Go with them, Malcolm. Find us a ship.”
“Yes, Captain.” The older man spurred his horse ahead and raced after the bowmen.
“The rest of us stick close to Jàden. From here on out, someone always has eyes on her.” Jon nudged his horse out of the trees. “Let’s move.”
They kept to a brisk trot through thick woods, the ground covered in pine mats and snow drifts. Heavy storm clouds obscured the moons, but small lights began to dot the surrounding country.
Every few minutes she scanned the sky, certain Frank was somewhere in the clouds, ready to pounce.
“I’ll teach you to fight.” Jon searched the terrain ahead, patting his horse on the shoulder. “But until you’re fully trained, you follow his orders.”
He nodded toward Thomas, who rode on her other side. “In return, I’ll help you find Kale.”
She clenched the reins harder as Thomas visibly tensed beside her. So far, he hadn’t shown any of them an ounce of friendliness. Besides, she’d rather have Jon showing her how to hold a weapon. “What do you get out of this?”
Jon glanced at Thomas, the two of them sharing a silent conversation she couldn’t hope to understand. “I get another fighter.”
Something about Jon’s words didn’t feel like the whole story, but Jàden was far too worried about Frank catching up to scrutinize too closely. “How long will it take?”
Jon scratched his chin. “Two years.”
“Two years?” she sputtered. “Jon, I—”
“And you can’t use magic. That’s the deal, Jàden.” He clenched his hand, running his thumb along his forefinger.
“I can’t wait two years to start searching for Kale.” She needed to release Jon from their bond, not tempt fate that she might fall into his arms—and his bed.
But Kale needed a strong woman, not the half-starved, broken version of herself she’d become. Someone who could be the protector to him that he once was to her. She could train, but she would never stop looking. The sooner she found a way off Sandaris, the safer it would be for everyone who lived here.
“Fine,” she muttered, only intending to stay long enough to find Kale. “Two years.”
Thunder rumbled across the clouds, laced with a stronger high-pitched roar.
Jàden recognized the sound of a ship and turned toward the sky.
An orange glow lit the storm, tracking through the clouds until it disappeared into the north.
“Frank.” She bit down on her cheek until she tasted blood. “He’s here.”
She dug her heels into Agnar and bolted ahead.
The others were beside her in seconds.
Jàden leaned low against Agnar’s neck, and he lengthened his stride as they raced across an open plain.
The stormy skies to the north grew dark as his ship disappeared beyond the horizon. Frank must be going to her hypersleep pod. It wouldn’t take him long to figure out where she’d gone.
They ran until the horses panted, foam lathering along their necks. She wanted to keep running, but Agnar was struggling, slowing down into his choppier gait. “Just a little further.”
Lights twinkled in the distance, stretched from one side of the horizon to the other.
A sharp whistle came from the road. Jon pushed his horse ahead and angled them into a copse of oak trees.
She slowed her horse beside him. “We can’t stop.”
They’d kill the horses if they kept pushing, but all she could think about was Frank. He was too close. He was awake. And he was coming for her.
“All I could find off a merchant wagon heading into the city.” Theryn tossed a bundle at Jon. “The old man is headed toward the docks, but Dusty and I will hit the rooftops and shadow you in.”
Theryn and Dusty slid off their horses and retreated toward the city on foot, longbows strapped to their backs.
Jon tossed the bundle toward her. “Get dressed. The rest of you, let’s rearrange a bit. Don’t want to give ourselves away too soon.”
There was nowhere to dress. Oaks lined the avenue, cutting across a desolate landscape as it dropped out of the foothills toward the city.
Jàden slid off her horse and stepped around a wide oak, clutching the bundle of clothing to her chest. All she could think about was Frank sitting in the cockpit, zeroing in on her location. Her hands shook so hard she could barely keep the rest of her body from doing the same.
She untied the string and lifted the bolts of cloth, long lengths of gray fabric lined with dark maroon material attached to a bodice “Oh, you can’t be serious. What am I supposed to do, be a tent?”
“Outside the cities, you can wear whatever you like, but we can’t draw attention to ourselves.” Jon spoke to her from the other side of the tree, cursing occasionally under his breath as he and the others tampered with the supplies.
Damn sexist law. She stripped off her clothing, the icy air blasting against her skin. Jàden fumbled with the bodice. Even as skinny as she was, it dug into her ribs. She clasped the small hooks up the front then slid the dress over her head.
The thick wool was warm and soft but heavier than her forest clothing. As soon as the wind blew up her skirts, bumps broke out along her bare legs. She slid her breeches back on for warmth. One way or another she’d be cold, but at least she wouldn’t have the wind slicing against her bare skin.
“This is ridiculous.” Bundling up the last of her clothing, Jàden stepped out from behind the tree toward Agnar, who whinnied and tossed his head.
A sleeping blanket stretched across her stallion’s back, covering the Rakir brand on his rump. Jon tightened the saddle, now loaded down with supplies.
She shoved her clothes into a bag. “I can’t ride on all of that.”
He turned toward her and the half-spent cigarette fell from his mouth. Jon traced his eyes to the hem of her dress and back to her face. “You’ll ride with me.”
“Then we’d better move fast. Frank will be here any moment.”