ROHILEK, KURU SYSTEM
Whatever was coming at them was big and fast.
Marco sprinted—as much as his still-healing body would allow. He missed the days of flinging himself across rooftops and finding more thrill than exhaustion. Unbelievable. After months in the hull of the Prevenire, he still lacked the stamina to run down an underground passage.
He banked right, the dust of Blue’s trodden path guiding him. The thunder of whatever pursued them vibrated the ground, and he knew if they didn’t find shelter or some pulse cannons, they were going to end up roadkill. But at the next juncture, he skidded to a stop, realizing the path ahead wasn’t dusty.
Where did Blue go? It was quiet, still. Too st—
Something latched onto his collar from behind. Jerked.
Marco twisted his spine and popped his legs at the wall. Toed it. Gained traction to do a backflip. Even as he landed, he registered the beast. His heart pounded as Blue again grabbed his shirt and yanked him forward into his chest.
He’d no sooner rolled around Daq’Ti and into a tiny alcove than pebbles were raining down on them, the concussive thuds of the pursuing creature too close. A second later, it rounded the corner and barreled past.
Marco’s gut churned at the sight of the massive rodent with hairy hide and wings. Its teeth—
Reek!
Razor-sharp. Two tusklike canines protruded like twin swords.
Blue pointed to something on the ceiling across from them. “There!”
A wooden door secured with an iron latch and lock.
Marco stilled. Where did it lead? What if it was a trap?
A claxon rang out, as shrill as one on a ship, but this one was animalistic. Clear it had come from the oversized rodent, who must’ve realized he’d lost his quarry.
Blue moved with incredible speed—at least he hadn’t lost that in his metamorphosis—and leapt at the door. Caught the handle and shoved, all in one movement. The door flopped open with a crack.
Down the darkened passage spiraled a howl of objection.
With a frantic gesture, Blue waved Marco up into the opening. “Go, go.”
“You first.” Marco still wasn’t convinced Blue had anyone’s interest in mind except his own.
Blue didn’t hesitate. He hopped up and caught the ledge, sliding through with ease and confidence. As his legs vanished through the hole and into the upper darkness, Marco slipped from the alcove. Even as he did, he saw a blur of black hide barreling at him, thunder rattling the walls as the horn sounded again.
Marco leapt. Gripped the edge. His muscles strained with the effort. Again, he cursed the months in the hull that depleted his strength. Half his body through the opening, he gripped a rock, struggled the rest of—
Fire tore through his calf.
“Augh!” He felt himself sliding, being pulled back under.
Hands grabbed him, hauled him up and away from the vermin.
After landing hard, Marco rolled onto his back, panting, growling around the fire in his calf. Hot pain and blood coursed from the wound.
Blue slammed the trapdoor shut and secured it with an iron crossbar and series of locks.
Good. Marco scrambled backward from the opening, knowing those sword-tusks could easily pierce the boards. He wasn’t ready to be impaled again. His leg throbbed violently. He reached over his shoulder and grabbed his shirt, yanking off, then wrapped it around his calf. Hair dangling in his face, dripping with sweat, he felt dizzy.
“I get help,” Blue rumbled, those crimson slits changing. What started as slits were now oval. Somehow, the outer two sat wider and higher while the middle shortened and slid down. Eyes and a nose. The change was . . . haunting. Again, he pointed to Marco. “I get help . . . you . . . not rest.”
Not rest? What . . .? Marco eased back, leaning against the wall. His head felt like a boulder, his eyelids drooping. Wet hair curled into his eyes, and he shoved it back, fed up with the sweat stinging his corneas.
Weight settled on his shoulder and brought him up sharp.
A somber chortle went through Blue. “Eyes shut. Safe here. Wait.”
“Right. Sure,” Marco murmured, the exhaustion and weakness overtaking his common sense. He gave himself to the sleep, anxious to find Isaura. Hear her voice. See her beautiful green eyes.
“Isa . . .”
Emptiness held him hostage.
He shifted, turning, his hair once more jabbing into his eyes.
“Isaura? Please . . .”
He needed her. Needed her voice, her touch.
Nothing met him save the cold, hard walls of a dungeon type of room. Shoulder to shoulder. Trapped. In the hull again.
No . . .
Can’t move. Can’t breathe.
All at once, he relived the day Xisya and Baric anchored him into the hull. First, they’d paralyzed his body so he couldn’t fight. But his mind was aware and angry. Livid they were doing this to him. They laid him in the lectulo. The gel cocooned his body. He felt the invasive poking and insertion of tubes and nodes. The tube down his throat, suffocating, choking. Agony. Terror. Excruciating.
“No!” he growled, wrestling to free himself. But the cuffs tightened, yanked his arms up over his head. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t see. Dark . . . so dark . . .
“Isaura! Where are you?” Tears streaked his face. “I beg you. Please. Show me your face, your love.” A strange menthol intruded into his receptors.
“Quiet, be still.”
Baric. Though his voice was strange, lilting.
“Get off me!” Marco shoved the hand aside.
“Hold him down—it’s for his own good.”
Weight fell on him. Crushed him.
Not the lectulo again.
Marco cursed. Thrashed. Please, Vaqar! Lady! I beg you!
Something coiled around his thoughts, his mind, weighted but warm. Reassuring. Blacks shifted and changed to grays, then blues, then . . .
A hand moved from his face, bathing his receptors in menthol. Woodsy. Earthy. Marco relaxed into it. The darkness fell away, taking panic and fear with it.
UNKNOWN PLANET
Eija hunched closer to Reef, her nose practically to his back, following each shin-high print he made in the snow. Not only would it hide their numbers, but it also made each step easier for her, since he was shielding her from the driving winds and bitter elements. Hours ago, they’d spotted a small village on the rim of a gorge and set out for it.
Snow. So much snow.
“I thought I liked snow,” she muttered. Feet and hands numb—oh, who was she kidding? Everything was numb. She couldn’t feel anything, and walking . . . well, yeah, Reef’s steps paved the way, but the blank whiteness made it hard to judge depth. More than once she’d stomped, tripped, stumbled. This time, she crashed forward, jarring her knee as she landed on all fours. That’s when she realized her hands weren’t hurting anymore.
Djell.
Reef circled back and hooked his arm through hers. “C’mon. Up.”
“I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.”
“Exactly. I’ll give you a piggyback.”
“Don’t,” she said, her jaw stiff. Everything was hard to move! As she struggled to her feet, she felt the air swirl. Heard something. She hesitated and glanced around.
“What?” Reef asked. “Pretending I don’t exist again?”
“Do you?”
“Well, you can zap me right out of here the same way you zapped me here.”
She growled at him. “Stop saying that. I have no idea how—” Wait. There it was again. Thumping . . . “That noise—tell me you hear it.”
Reef jerked. Pivoted, hand going to her side as he nudged her behind him in a protective stance.
A half league out, the snow belched a herd of white-and-gray beasts that reminded her of hairy rhinnocks. And they were charging straight for her and Reef.
“Oh no.”
Reef spun her. “Go! Run!”
“Where?” she balked. “There’s nowhere to go! We can’t outrun—”
“So we die trying!” He shoved her onward. “C’mon. Move!”
Eija stumble-ran, tripping and staggering in a sloppy lope that had to look like someone drunk. But there was a newer, louder noise joining the thunder. A bellowing. Shouts. She glanced to the side, which promptly tangled her legs and slammed her into the crusty snow.
Reef hauled her up again, then he tripped.
As she helped him back to his feet, she felt a gust of air from the opposite direction. Was suddenly lifted from her feet. She screamed, arms flung out as she was hoisted up and laid over some beast. Heart pounding, she glanced up at the helmeted face of the rider who had secured her.
People! They hadn’t seen anyone since they appeared here two days ago, the only signs being that village in the distance. But these people had rescued them from the hairy rhinnocks and elements. Their mounts were so like horses but with different, less elongated heads, and the gait! It surged and . . . swam. Almost like surfing an air current, which nearly toppled Eija at every change in direction. The drilling beat of the beast’s gait punched her stomach, over and over, despite the way the rider pinned her.
They veered right, as if chasing the sun from the horizon. The relentless pace continued unabated, long after darkness fell over the land, pounding new aches into a body she was sure would never feel anything else again. Her head and neck ached, her stomach muscles exhausted from trying to spare her gut the trauma of repeated impact.
Suddenly, an enormous wall appeared out of nowhere less than a league out. And they barreled straight for it. Anticipating an impact—did they not see it?—Eija strangled a scream as the distance erased and the wall rushed at them.
Without warning, the rider pulled up hard, mounts skidding and sliding sideways to a stop—and had a gap not suddenly yawned in the wall, they would have careened into it. Instead, they straightened and bolted through the opening into a short tunnel. A move they performed with such casual ease, she knew they’d done it a lot.
Eija sucked in a sharp breath and the sudden, drastic difference of scenery. Outside the wall, whiteout. Inside, snowy-draped earth, brown and protected. The abrupt absence of cutting wind felt like a hearth to her frozen body. She wanted to enjoy it, but she hurt too much.
“Hoy!” a man shouted.
Eija’s rider veered to him, then lifted her as effortlessly as he had before and handed her off to the man. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t even protest when he caught her in a basket hold and hurried across a muddy town square and entered a plastered building. He set her on a chair near a blazing fire. The place was as big and open as the gym at the Academy, and its large hearth victoriously threw light through the structure. Women hurried around, two layering blankets on Eija. The warmth should have been glorious, but it proved horrifically painful. She grimaced and bit through the torment. How was—
“Reef!” Eija jerked around—and stilled, seeing men ferrying him inside. They hurried Reef to the fire and placed him before it as several women knelt, cocooning him in pelts and blankets.
Why wasn’t he moving? Was he even breathing? Her heart spasmed, anxious to reach him. She eased forward as a woman pushed something onto her hands, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Reef.
His face . . . his expressionless face. Eyes staring up, but not blinking.
“He’s dead!”