God, her body hurt! Crashing into the planet left the left side of her torso black and bruised. If not for the painkillers Mansr gave her as soon as she awoke and her newest discovery to distract her from the lingering pain, she’d be too miserable to move.
She made grass grow. The realization made her want to laugh and cringe at the same time.
Who the hell could make grass grow?
She planted her hand on the red ground and counted to ten, until she felt the tickle of blades of grass beneath her hand. Astonished, she leaned back and watched it rise, thick and plush, to a height of several inches.
“Leyon?” She turned to find him staring at her from across the dwelling. She motioned to the small patch of grass. “Can you do this, too?”
“Only the nishani,” he said. He looked at her the way she looked at the six-legged cat that awoke her that morning.
“Only I can …” She trailed off, recalling her last conversation with A’Ran. She’d never thought he meant she’d literally help the planet re-grow. She’d thought her role more spiritual or symbolic. “This is good, right?”
“Yes, nishani.”
He thought her crazy. She rolled her eyes and finished her breakfast. The dwelling was warm already in the midmorning, and she wondered how she’d survive another day of heat like yesterday’s. Drained despite her long night of rest, she didn’t look forward to anything this day.
“Do you want to talk to the dhjan?”
She rose quickly in response from her place kneeling at the small table. He led her into the hot morning. The battle still raged in the distance, the colors duller against the morning sky. Several fighter ships lifted off from the valley as they neared another of the buildings beside the meeting hall.
It was packed with warriors facing a screen with A’Ran’s calm, hard image displayed. Her heart quickened at the sight of him. She couldn’t hear the quiet discussions but saw Mansr at the front, speaking to A’Ran. Leyon waited with her at the doorway as the war discussions continued. Kiera pulled her hair into a ponytail, the back of her neck already damp with sweat. Grass tickled her feet as she stayed in place too long.
Agitated, she glanced down, then back—kneeling to pull a handful of it free. She placed it in her pocket, ignoring Leyon’s look. The warriors moved and shifted as one, and she backpedaled quickly out of their paths as they exited the dwelling. Mansr and another older man remained. He motioned her in, and she approached somewhat anxiously.
A’Ran was unreadable. He was seated, his fingers steepled and his gaze penetrating. He wasn’t happy, and part of her wondered if she’d done something already to piss him off. Mansr glanced at her.
“Hello, A’Ran,” she said quietly.
“Hello, Kiera.” He’d never used her name before. “Are you well?”
“Yes, I am,” she said. She could feel his angry energy even over the viewer. She withdrew the grass from her pocket and held it out as a peace offering, uncertain how to take his mood. “I can make grass grow! Doesn’t that make you happy?”
“You may be useful yet, nishani,” he allowed. A faint smile escaped despite his dark mood.
She rolled her eyes at him.
“You’re hurt,” he said, his mood darkening. She touched her bruised cheekbone and realized doing so exposed her black and blue arm.
“I crashed into the planet,” she said. “It could’ve been worse. I was able to re-engage the shields and the thrusters.”
“She’s fortunate. We saw the pod as it fell,” Mansr seconded. “It’s good you knew a thing or two about configuring a ship, nishani.”
A’Ran lifted his chin to his uncle, who bowed in response to the dismissal and left. She glanced over her shoulder as the others left.
“Are you angry?” she asked, returning her gaze to the dhjan. His position didn’t change even when they were alone, his gaze direct and hard.
“Not at you,” he replied. “What did Ne’Rin say to you before he ejected you from the ship?”
She looked away and cleared her throat, embarrassed to feel tears in her eyes again.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’ve never had anyone hate me so much. He seemed to think you’d gone weak and I was the source of your weakness. He said without me, you might win your war.” She traced the bruises around her wrists from the bindings. “Are you disappointed with me?”
“I chose you. Anshan chose you.”
“Would you choose differently?”
“No, Kiera,” he said, voice softening. She crossed her arms, hugging herself.
“I’m so sorry, A’Ran.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“You have enough to worry about with all your duties,” she replied.
“My family should come before my duties. I’ll evac you as soon as it’s safe.”
“I can help you from here,” she said. “I can help Mansr battle plan.”
“Nishani—”
“I want to! I’m supposed to be here!”
He gazed at her, shifting to lean forward, the only sign of his unease. She braced herself for a refusal and a fight. He took her in for a long moment before caving.
“Mansr needs the help.”
“You’ll let me stay?” Surprised, she met his dark gaze.
“Not too long, and only until the space war is calm enough for me to evac you,” he said firmly.
“I don’t want to disappoint you,” she said slowly. “It’s my fault Ne’Rin lost his faith in you.”
“That has nothing to do with you, nishani. Do not apologize for another’s betrayal.”
She wondered if he felt hurt at his best friend’s betrayal but didn’t have the nerve to ask. He appeared hard and strong as usual. There was no sign Ne’Rin’s betrayal affected him at all.
“I must go, nishani. Are you well enough to battle plan?”
She nodded.
“Have Mansr show you to the command center. The ground battle is yours.”
Her breath caught at his words. Thrilled, she realized he’d just granted her something he’d never given anyone else: the position as his equal.
“Thank you,” she said in a hushed voice. “Will I see you soon?”
“As soon as I can arrange it. You’ll see how difficult our position,” he replied. “Send in Mansr.”
“Be careful, A’Ran.”
“And you, nishani. Mansr and Leyon will take care of you.”
“I don’t—”
“Hush, woman,” he said. “Go.”
She rolled her eyes at him again, and he offered another faint smile before she left. She joined Leyon outside in the hot morning and waited for Mansr.
“Is everyone from your planet like you?” Leyon asked, his gaze intent.
“For the most part,” she replied.
“You have no men on your planet.”
“We do!”
He shook his head. Mansr returned and motioned for her to follow him. He led her through the small encampment toward the mountain and up a smooth walkway to the flattened peak of one ridge. In the center was a massive console surrounded by a circular bench beneath the shade of a ledge. Several warriors loitered near the console. Mansr activated the audio communications.
“You’ll be able to communicate with me as required.” A’Ran’s low voice came to her through the unseen speaker.
She approached the console, circling it once as she took in the different symbols. She touched her palm to the activation key, and the ground battle hologram sprung up before her. It whirled slowly.
“A lot changed fast,” she murmured.
“It did.”
“And not for the best.”
“We have reinforcements inbound. The Council split on sanctioning me, and those whose support Jetr swayed for me are sending their armies to battle.”
She reviewed the last several days, taking in the swelling number of enemies in the skies and on the ground.
“How many ground forces do you expect?” she asked.
“One and a half times what we have now.”
“Where did you learn?” Leyon asked, standing beside her.
“In A’Ran’s battle room.”
“Check grid 77,” A’Ran instructed.
She manipulated the scene before her and saw his concern: the only food repository in the area was under attack. She nudged Leyon aside to punch another set of buttons and issued an order to reinforce the failing efforts there.
“There aren’t many good water sources,” she murmured. “The next nearest is on the moon and a logistical nightmare.”
“I’m sending a list of trouble areas. I’ve got to go. I trust you to handle these.”
“Thank you, thank you,” she whispered. “You don’t know how much this means to me. You’re not treating me like some enslaved woman with no brain.”
“I’ve not given up on righting your behavior,” he assured her.
“Good luck!” she retorted. She shook her head as he closed the communication line with a click and concentrated on the scene before her. The grids with issues popped up as a layer over the hologram of the existing battles. She couldn’t read the writing, but she knew the numbers well enough to find the grids.
She sat down, growing oblivious to those around her as she manipulated and modified the battlefield. A’Ran submitted changes, and she reviewed the images. The day grew hot fast, though the surrounding peaks shaded her from the sun itself. Mansr sat beside her and remained, watching the scene before her. Only when the pain in her body returned did she lean back for a break with a grimace.
“You must rest,” Mansr said quietly. “You’ve done more this day than I could in seven.”
“My body hurts.”
“Leyon will take you to the medical facility,” he said. “Forgive me, nishani, I should have taken you yesterday. I wanted my nephew to see what kind of enemy he had.”
She wasn’t sure what to say and offered a smile instead. She didn’t doubt the impact of her battered visage on any man, especially A’Ran. Leyon motioned for her to follow him and guided her through the rocky trails to another of the low stone buildings at the base of the hills.
An hour later, she left the medical facility, completely healed though still exhausted. Leyon took her into one of the mountains, and she sighed at the blast of chilled air that greeted her. The dining hall was vacant and massive, a cave converted into a cafeteria. He motioned for her to sit and brought her food and water.
“How did you learn to battle plan?” he asked, sitting across from her.
“In A’Ran’s battle room. I was bored after he kidnapped me and left me with his sisters,” she replied. She was getting used to the hard stares the warriors gave her, the only indication of their surprise at her candidness.
“I pity my cousin,” he said at last. At her surprised look, he added, “I know him well enough to know you will change him. I do not know if he realizes how much.”
“I’m not sure if you’re insulting me or complimenting me,” she said with a puzzled smile.
“He chose well, nishani.”
“Thank you, I think.”
“Are there many women on your planet?”
“Yes, there are about three billion. You want one?”
“I may.” He was serious enough that she laughed.
“At least I haven’t scared you away from them!”
“I want to see what kind of planet produces women like you.”
She laughed harder, glancing up as Mansr joined them. He tossed his head to Leyon, who left quietly.
“How do you fare, nishani?” he asked.
“Good.”
“You’ve mastered battle planning.”
“Not yet. A’Ran is better than me.”
“As he should be. He’s been doing it for many years.”
She ate her dinner, beat. He made no move to leave her in the cafeteria.
“I hoped you would come,” he said softly.
“I don’t know how long I can stay,” she replied. “I don’t think grass will benefit the war effort, though.”
“It’s a start. The world and its people will take time to heal.”
She paused and stared at him, unable to comprehend an entire planet that depended on her. He seemed to assume she was staying for good, and she didn’t know how to tell him A’Ran had given her a choice she hadn’t yet made.
“A’Ran chose well,” Mansr added. “Even if you are unusual.”
“He has a lot on his shoulders.”
“He has since his parents were killed. He’s been the dhjan fighting this battle since he reached my shoulder. He’s known nothing else in all these years. I am happy he found you, not only for Anshan but for him. He needs someone to remind him that there is more to his life than war.”
“I don’t want to disappoint any of you,” she murmured. “Especially not him. Mansr, I can’t help but think it’s my fault that Ne’Rin betrayed him.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said with A’Ran’s firmness. “Ne’Rin’s father betrayed A’Ran’s father. Each man followed in his father’s shadow. You were an excuse for him to do what he did.”
“Ne’Rin’s father?” she echoed, surprised to learn she’d overheard them plotting without knowing what they were doing. “That’s awful.”
“It is. He’s asked Leyon to step into Ne’Rin’s role.”
“Mansr, what about Gage?” she asked more quietly.
“A’Ran told me,” he said grimly. “He’s taken on the responsibility of raising her child, if she chooses not to mate with another.”
“She’ll be heartbroken.”
“Likely, but Ne’Rin would have killed you all without a second thought, as his father did the rest of their family. At least she and her babe will live.”
“There’s no saving Ne’Rin from whatever his issue is?” she asked, upset.
“A’Ran’s already acted.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, Ne’Rin is no longer a threat.”
She shivered. She didn’t doubt A’Ran could be ruthless if he felt his family was threatened. She didn’t like to think of how violent the man in control of a world always at war could be. She glanced down absently at the tickle of grass against her feet.
“Can I do anything more useful than this?” she asked.
“It will come,” he said. “I know you are tired, but there is a place I’d like to show you.”
She hesitated, ashamed to feel a sense of suspicion after Ne’Rin’s betrayal. She looked at Mansr, whose sharp gaze took in her features.
“It can wait,” he offered.
“No, I’m sorry,” she said. “Just a little …” She didn’t finished but sensed he understood.
He rose and started toward the entrance. She trailed, stepping into the chilled desert night. Mansr strode down one of the many paths lining the rocky hills, away from the encampment and into a part of the hills untouched by any but the moons’ light. Kiera went, resisting the urge to call A’Ran. She had nothing to fear from these people, especially not Mansr, a blood relative of A’Ran and his sisters.
He walked farther than she preferred before disappearing into a dark crevice. She waited at the top of the sloping walkway until she saw the outline of a door as he cracked it open. The outline turned to a bright square of light, and she followed him again.
Two warriors stood hidden in the dark on either side of the doorway. She jumped when one moved, her heart flipping. The warrior opened the door wider and motioned her in. She entered a narrow, well-lit hall and followed it through smoothly hewn walls. Several more warriors stood at intersections like gargoyles, moving only to point in the direction she needed to go.
She caught up to Mansr at long last. He stood outside a closed door down a short hallway lined with warriors. Her heart quickened as she paced through the silent warriors and joined him. He motioned to a glowing access pad.
“I cannot enter. Only the dhjan and dhjan nishani.”
She hesitated again, not sure she was ready for another trial.
“Inside is one of three temples on Anshan where the heart of the planet and its people is. While I’ve never seen what lies within, legend says it’s the key to the planet’s survival.”
She wanted to tell him she wasn’t ready for this, that she hadn’t even decided to stay yet. Her words died on her lips as she took in the deep worry lines and gaunt features of the man before her. After all he’d been through fighting for his home, how could she refuse?
With a nod, she prepared herself for the worst. He stepped aside and she waved her band in front of the access door. She couldn’t help but feel surprised when it opened. Inside was another small chamber. She looked at Mansr, who nodded in encouragement, then stepped into the chamber.
The thick stone door behind her slid closed, and there was a pause before another door opened in front of her. She expected another similar chamber with a low ceiling and plain walls and was stunned at the massive cave before her.
The walls were covered with colorful pictographs of couples and Anshan’s geometric writing, telling her a story she couldn’t read. The tiled floor depicted Anshan and its moons, with the planet at the chamber’s center. Two thrones of stone sat opposite her, awaiting their masters. In the center of the chamber was a small fountain whose waters had long gone dry. She walked into the chamber, awed by the drawings and writings on the walls. They were in different hands from different times, the top of the chamber rimmed with drawings of couples holding hands and standing on a ball she took to be Anshan.
She didn’t understand the significance of the pictures or writing and frowned, wondering how such a simple place was considered sacred. She crossed the stone tiles to the center of the chamber and circled the plain fountain. More pictographs were carved in the rim, and she circled the fountain twice before finding what she thought was the beginning, marked by pictures larger than the rest.
She trailed her fingers over the first image chiseled into the stone: that of a man. The next depicted the planet, the next a woman holding a knife, then the fountain, a plant, a river. She struggled to understand what the images were trying to tell her. She reached the beginning again and looked around the chamber, perplexed.
The thrones caught her attention, and she crossed to them. One bore the same image of a man, the second of the woman. In the middle of the queen’s throne was a low stone box she mistook at first glance to be the world’s most uncomfortable lumbar support. When she saw the king’s throne had no such stone structure, she returned to the woman’s and touched the box.
It clicked, and she jerked back. The top opened of its own volition, revealing an aged stone dagger with dulled edges and a chipped stone hilt. She withdrew it and hefted it. It was as heavy as it looked, as long as her forearm. She held it with two hands and retreated to the fountain, unable to shake the instinct that said the dagger on the fountain was the same.
She set the knife down on the edge and circled the fountain again until she’d reviewed all three of the pictographs where the female figure held a dagger. She almost slapped herself when she realized how simple it was.
The fountain contained instructions for making it work.
“Dhjan, dhjan nishani, dagger. Nishani’s blood.” She looked at the stone dagger and then at the fountain uneasily. There was no way she could fill it with blood!
She looked at the instructions again and saw the queen depicted with one drop of what she assumed was blood.
Kiera stepped back and spun around, feeling overwhelmed. She felt like panicking and running to her room and never leaving! Instead, she drew a deep breath and approached the fountain. Her hands shook as she gripped the heavy stone dagger, and she leaned against the fountain. With another deep breath, she ran her thumb down the jagged edge of the dagger. Stinging made her curse, and she grimaced as she held her thumb over the fountain. She watched the crimson drop form, stretch, then fall into the fountain.
She leaned over the edge to see the stone tile at the bottom of the fountain absorb her blood. She sucked her thumb and stepped back, waiting for something to happen. According to the pictures, there would be plants. Yet there was no earth or place for them to grow around her.
A long, silent moment passed. She began to think she’d misunderstood the pictures when a green sprout appeared at the center of the fountain. It grew to her height as she watched and then bloomed into an orange-pink flower the size of her head, shriveled and died, and returned. A second flower blossomed and remained.
Kiera waited. When nothing else happened, she retrieved the dagger and replaced it. She looked again at the flower, puzzled.
Suddenly, the ground jolted and shook, throwing her onto her stomach. Rumbling alarmed her as the stone lurched and moved beneath her. The sound of a roaring ocean filled the chamber. The flower moved as if caught in a breeze, not an earthquake.
The pictographs said nothing of an earthquake! Kiera climbed to her feet, barely caught herself from hitting the fountain with the next great tremor of the ground, and bolted for the door. She smashed into it as another quake rumbled beneath her, then rose and waved her band before the door. It opened, and she flung herself against the second door. It opened only when the other had closed, and she toppled into Mansr’s arms.
“We must go!” he said, steadying himself against the wall. The warriors grabbed her and passed her up the hall before he took one arm and another warrior her other.
They raced through the quaking halls toward the entrance, all while the strange roar of an ocean grew louder. Mansr took her a different route than the one she’d used to enter, one that sloped down and then up. Within moments, they burst into the chilly desert night.
Mansr tripped, taking all three of them down. Kiera grunted as she hit the ground, and he wrapped an arm around her.
“Oh, god, Mansr! I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed. “I did it wrong!”
To her surprise, he barked a laugh of half-pain from their fall and half-triumph. She sprawled on top of him, unable to push herself up with the earth’s violent shaking. More warriors tumbled out after them until the last closed the stone door.
Two hauled her up and one helped Mansr. She bounced between them, unable to catch her balance.
“Come!” Mansr ordered, waving them toward another small trail up a hill.
The warriors gave her no choice but pulled her up the hill. She didn’t understand why until they reached the top, overlooking a deep canyon. Water shot from the bottom of the canyon, forming hundreds of tall columns whose mist cast rainbows in the bright moonlight. Mansr dropped to his knees as the earth continued to tremble. She pulled away from the warriors and dropped beside him, more comfortable on the ground than trying to navigate the shaking earth on her feet.
Mansr’s shoulders shook, and she took his arm, alarmed.
“Mansr, what’s wrong?”
He was laughing again. She stared at him, then at the water. A burst of wind sent water from the closest column raining over them. Grass tickled her knees, and she shifted, agitated by water and grass.
“Mansr!” she demanded. “What have I done?”
“Water!” he replied, throwing his arm toward the canyon. “We had none before!”
She frowned. As suddenly as it started, the earth stopped shaking. The warriors regained themselves first and crossed to the edge of the canyon, unaffected by the water spraying on them. They were silent, staring.
Mansr regained himself and rose. She watched as he too crossed to the edge of the canyon before she rose. Her knees hurt from her landing. The distant roar of water pouring into the canyon caught her attention.
“Mansr, I don’t understand,” she said at last.
“Anshan has had no water since the last dhjan nishani,” he said. “The plants died, the lakes dried up. We had nothing.”
Her gaze went to the columns with newfound interest.
“You mean, I didn’t do something wrong?” she asked.
“No, nishani, you saved us. As long as you are here, there will be life on Anshan.”
As long as you are here.
The words made him smile but weighed on her. She looked at each of the warriors, who watched the water as if they’d never seen it before. She’d wondered why A’Ran’s water supplies were located on the nearest moon, a logistical obstacle. The thought that they had no water on the planet itself had never occurred to her.
She did this. She didn’t know how, but she did it. The men around her were happy despite their stony visages. She didn’t know what to feel, except she wanted to cry.
“Mansr, I’m tired,” she whispered. “Can we go back now?”
He looked at her, his smile fading. “Of course. You must be exhausted.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to say anything else. Her throat was tight, and she didn’t think her legs would carry her. They did. Mansr led her back to the small dwelling she shared with him and his son. The encampment was a flurry of activity, and she wondered how much was normal and how much was related to the water.
She said nothing to him but returned to her small room and closed the door. Kiera lay down in the dark and stared at the ceiling. Despite feeling tired, she couldn’t sleep.
“Nishani.” His voice made her jump, and she looked around wildly before she realized A’Ran’s voice came from the communicator. She rose grudgingly and crossed to the communications viewer. Unwilling to face him, she turned on the audio portion.
“I’m here,” she said, and cleared her throat. She knew he heard the restrained emotion by his pause.
“Are you well?”
“Just tired.”
“I’m transmitting a message to Mansr. Our enemy figured out you’re alive and on the planet. My reinforcements aren’t here yet; you’ll need to keep moving until I can neutralize the newest threat.”
“No problem.”
“What disturbs you?” His voice was softer.
“Just tired,” she whispered. Tears gathered in her eyes.
“It is not like you to keep the truth from me.”
“I, uh, I went to the fountain and figured out how to make it work. There’s water now, A’Ran,” she managed, struggling not to cry. “Mansr says there will be water as long as I’m on Anshan.”
“Water,” he said, an odd note in his voice. “He speaks the truth. As long as you are nishani, the planet will heal.”
“And if I leave, everyone dies.”
“It is the way of things, nishani.” His voice was even, as if he tried to ease some of the weight of her decision.
“I couldn’t live with myself if I left everyone to die,” she said.
“We share the same burden,” he said in a hushed voice. “My failure to protect my people should not be something another should bear.”
She wiped her eyes.
“I will accept your decision, no matter which choice you make,” he said.
“I don’t know how you can say that,” she returned, “when one means your people will be destroyed!”
“You must accept your place willingly. It is the natural way of things here.”
“So you’re obligated to give me the choice.”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes, remembering how she’d felt in his arms: like she wasn’t just another duty to him.
“I couldn’t walk away from your planet any more than I could my own, if me staying means everyone lives,” she whispered. “I must stay and do my … duty.” She waited, expecting her words to please him.
“Very well.” His tone didn’t change, as if she’d just told him she was going shopping instead of sacrificing the rest of her life for his people. “Prepare yourself to move before the suns rise.”
She turned off the communicator, not caring if he said anything else. Instead, she cried, feeling more alone than she had since leaving earth. She fell into a restless sleep that was disturbed long before dawn. Leyon’s shake rattled her to her bones, and she pushed at him. He shone a light in her face before hauling her to her feet. She stumbled after him into the central area of the dwelling.
“We must go,” Mansr said, tossing a small pack to her. “The Qatwali have landed their army nearby. We can’t evac you, but we can hide in the hills.”
She went to the window at his words. The attackers were down the road. Startled, she froze, watching the giant warriors fight until Leyon wrenched her forward. Their pace out of the dwelling and toward the hills was brutal, too fast for her to keep up, and Leyon ended up swinging her into his arms like a child to keep the fast pace into the rocky hills. The moons hung well above the horizon, and the desert air was chilly enough for her to see her breath.
Mansr led the column of warriors into the hills, not stopping until they reached the canyon she’d last seen several hours before. To her surprise, moonlight glinted off the water of the newly formed lake that filled the canyon. Leyon set her down after they passed it. They were forced to slow their pace when the trail became covered with slippery shale and the path grew steeper. They stopped in the shadow of a hill, and Mansr barked quiet orders at the dozen warriors with them. She replaced her translator as he approached.
“Listen carefully,” he said, gripping her arms. “Is your translator working?”
She nodded.
“We’re being followed. You will follow this path that leads around the hill back toward the encampment. You remember the chamber where you were earlier?”
She nodded again.
“Hide there. No one will enter. They’re tracking us, and I don’t know how. We’re going to scatter to see who’s followed, and if it’s you, we’ll kill anyone who follows your path.”
“You’re sending me alone?” she asked, surprised.
“I must know who among us has a tracking beacon. Leyon will be near you at all times. You’ll be in no danger.”
She was about to object when he released her to signal one of his other men forward.
“Around the hill,” Leyon repeated. “Stick to the path. You’ll see the trail to the cave.”
He gave her a small push toward the path, and she looked down, squinting in the moonlight to see the darkened trail. The men around her moved silently into every direction, and Mansr lifted his chin in a silent command for her to go. Leyon drew his sword and waited, giving her a head start.
Heart pounding, she trotted down the sloping trail, glancing nervously at the hill to make sure she didn’t suddenly fall off her path. The night was quiet aside from her foot falls and the sliding shale. The hill was wide and her blood thrummed as she moved as fast as she could.
Suddenly, a dark form launched itself from behind a group of boulders onto her path. She gasped and halted, staring at the sword and the giant holding it. She took a few steps back and then whirled to run. He snatched her, jerking her back. His sword flew over her head and his grip fell away too fast for her to catch her balance. She fell hard on her backside and saw her attacker’s headless body land beside her.
“Go. There are more!” Leyon ordered, pulling her up.
She stumbled in the direction he pushed her, horrified. This time, she paid no attention to the shale or placing her feet right. Instead, she ran as fast as she could on the trail. She reached a point that seemed familiar and looked for the dark shadow of the crevice. It was in the near distance, no more than two hundred meters away, down the hill through a boulder-strewn route. She broke from the trail and darted toward it, her heartbeat loud in her ears.
Three figures emerged to block her path. She skidded to a halt, chest heaving.
C’mon, Leyon! she ordered silently.
One headed for her, and she turned to run, only to collide with a large figure at her back.
A’Ran!
Her body jolted in recognition as their bodies met, even though his face was shadowed. He pushed her behind him, sword in one hand. She took a few steps back and flinched at the first silent contact of his sword with another’s. Her eyes pinned to the scene, she couldn’t help the emotions spinning through her. Happiness, fear, awe …
The gloves were off this night. A’Ran wasn’t sparring; he fought for blood. She watched him systematically behead or run through the three men, her stomach churning at the sight of so much death. He snatched her hand when none of his opponents remained standing and ran with her toward the crevice.
The path to the bottom was unguarded. He pushed her down it and stayed near the top, looking for other attackers. She trotted to the bottom and waved her band before the access pad, waiting as the stone door opened.
He joined her and took her hand again, pulling her into the hall. The door closed behind them as he strode through the lighted, vacant halls, following a familiar path on the way to the chamber. They entered, and she looked up at him, afraid to address the fierce warrior. Only when they were sealed inside the massive cave did he release her.
He said nothing but withdrew a communications device and began issuing calm commands to his men. Shaken, she leaned against the nearest wall and sank into a sit, disgusted to see there was blood on her clothing.
“Nishani, I must leave you here,” he said without turning.
She said nothing, scared yet unsure what else she felt. He turned when she didn’t respond, and his gaze softened. He crossed to her and knelt. His dark eyes took in her face, and she felt her heart quicken for a different reason. She found herself breathing him in, aching for him to touch her as he had not so long ago.
“Are you well?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she replied.
He studied her.
“Go. I’ll be safe here,” she heard herself say.
“This is not my nishani,” he said quietly. He cupped her cheek with one of his large hands, and she was embarrassed to feel tears gather.
She wasn’t expecting his kiss or the passion behind it. He kissed her hard and deep, his intensity making her hunger for him flare even as she tried to suppress it. Her senses filled with his taste, scent, the heat of his body, enveloping her yet never enough. He withdrew and kissed her cheeks and forehead, then drew her into a hug. She savored the feel of his body against hers, unable to deny what she felt toward him and terrified he’d never feel the same.
“I must go. I will return soon,” he said, releasing her. She nodded. His dark gaze lingered on her before he stalked to the door. She had the unsettling feeling that he was about to disappear from her life forever.
She rose after a few minutes and stretched. The single flower still stood in the fountain, and she crossed to it. It grew straight from the stone; there was no dirt or planter. She sat on the edge of the fountain and looked up at the glyphs on the wall.
The sound of a muffled explosion from beyond the door made her rise. Silence followed, and she wondered if her paranoia had caused her to imagine it. She’d just sat down again when the inner door exploded into rocks that flew across the room. She ducked behind the fountain and saw someone shoving the broken stone door open, shocked to recognize the man leading the charge into the sacred chamber.
***
A’Ran fought his way through the Qatwali invaders to the secret battle planner hidden within one of the hills. He broke free of attackers before reaching the camouflaged door and waved his band in front of what would look like just another boulder to someone unfamiliar with the path.
His legs trembled, but he forced himself on. The small chamber holding the battle planner was silent, and he waved the computer on, unable to hold himself up any longer. He dropped to his knees, his body shuddering at the energy—Anshan’s life force. It surged up through his feet to his head, making his whole body tingle as the planet welcomed back its king.
He hadn’t set foot on the planet since being made the dhjan upon his father’s death. The feel of the planet’s life force through his body was staggering, the sensation similar to what he felt the first time he’d met his nishani. He’d dreaded his first steps on his planet, fearing it, too, would’ve lost faith in him.
The planet welcomed him home, reminded him that his own life—and those of his people—was tied to it. The initial sensations passed, and he breathed deeply, finally able to focus as his body adjusted to the feel of the energy flowing through him.
He’d wondered what his initial greeting as dhjan would feel like. It stunned him to feel the planet breathing, struggling back to life after hovering so long on the edge of death. The sensations humbled him, and he thought again of Mansr’s words, that he needed to be more than an exiled war planner. His planet needed him. His people needed him. He’d waited too long for the Council to support him instead of returning to the planet that needed him.
A’Ran sat at the battle planner and watched the scenes before him. Qatwali was as ruthless in battle as he was. That they’d ally with the dishonorable Yirkin was his fault; his affront at taking Kiera from them was enough for them to overcome their distaste at dealing with the Yirkin, whom they viewed as even less civilized than the Anshan. His reinforcements would come too late; he had one choice to save his planet.
He touched the communications device to activate it.
“Mansr.”
There was a pause, then his uncle’s familiar, strained voice.
“Here, A’Ran.”
“I’m at the battle planner. My communications capability is limited. I want you to issue the evacuation order for the planet.”
“Evacuate?” Mansr asked. “The space battle won’t allow anyone off-planet.”
“Qatwali is distracted with the land battle and the Yirkin won’t be looking where we launch.”
“I’ll issue the warning. We’ll need half a day to evacuate the planet.”
“You’ll have it,” A’Ran said. “I’ll activate the emergency facilities on the moon.”
“Very well. Is nishani well?”
“Yes, uncle, she’s safe.”
There was a click as Mansr closed the connection. A’Ran returned his attention to the battles twirling before him on the planner. He watched, confirming the far side of the planet wasn’t the focus of either Yirkin or Qatwali forces.
He sat back for a moment, heart pounding at the prospect of what he was about to do. Nishani had proven she could bring the planet back to life. She had looked less than happy about staying, but she would do her duty, as would he. He would decimate all life on the planet using the very ore that had brought his family wealth and power. The dust emitted from mining the ore was poisonous in its raw state. Long ago, his ancestors had rigged the planet to blow the mines and turn the atmosphere into a toxic mix no one would survive.
Long ago, it had been a negotiating point with the Council: allow Anshan to control its own mines without Council peacekeepers’ presence, or the planet would be too polluted for anyone to mine at all. What the Council didn’t know was that Anshan would heal with its nishani, even if it took many sun-cycles for the mining industry to repair itself. The Council had only thought the Anshan rulers barbaric enough to threaten to blow up the only source of ore.
A’Ran’s fingers flew over the command panel as he thought of how wise his forefathers had turned out to be. They’d been right to use force over reason with the Council, a lesson he’d learned almost too late.
He spent a few hours setting up the explosive mechanisms and issuing new battle plans for the space war and ordered his ground troops to evacuate the planet. The Qatwali would think themselves winning as his men withdrew. He watched as Mansr expertly organized the evacuations and aligned the space battle to keep the Yirkins’ attention off the ships fleeing the planet’s surface for the nearest moon, Kiera. Talal had been right; Kiera was a fateful name for his nishani!
He opened the communications device and touched two buttons on the flat control panel.
“A’Ran?” Jetr sounded curious.
“I apologize for disturbing you,” A’Ran said.
“I am pleased to hear from you. Where are you?”
“Anshan. I need your help, my friend,” A’Ran said. “I’m evacuating the planet. The moon can hold us, but we’ll need food and supplies until the space battle is over.”
“Evacuating?”
“You’re my only true ally of any influence with the Council. Keep them out of the galaxy.”
“I’ll dispatch my own cargo ships to your moon. The Council will want to be involved, even if this becomes an intra-galaxy war.”
“It’s been an intra-galaxy war for generations!” he said with some impatience. “Let us end it once and for all, not with the Council manipulating each of us for its benefit!”
“You are forbidden from destroying another’s planet,” Jetr reminded him. “The force of the Council will be at your door if you touch Qatwal.”
“I’m destroying all Qatwali and Yirkin on the surface of Anshan. I don’t care about Qatwal or destroying its people. I want my planet back, Jetr, and the Council has done nothing in all these sun-cycles but impede me. Keep them out of the galaxy!”
“Suns,” Jetr breathed. “I thought the stories of your barbaric forefathers threatening to destroy Anshan were bluffs.”
“They weren’t,” A’Ran confirmed. “And soon, you’ll see just how serious they were.”
“I’ll do what you ask, A’Ran, but isn’t there another way?”
“No,” A’Ran said. “There’s not.”
Jetr was quiet for a long moment before he said, “Very well.”
“Thank you, friend.”
“You’re welcome, A’Ran. I have some work to do to keep the Council out of your way. Contact me when you’re safe,” Jetr said.
“I will.”
A’Ran closed the connection and checked the evacuation progress. He was pleased to see it was nearly complete. The civilians were off the planet while his armies remained. He set the timer for the explosions to start on the opposite side of the planet, startled when the first went off as soon as he gave the order. Just as fast, Mansr called him.
“The warriors aren’t off the planet yet!” came his uncle’s surprised voice.
“It started too soon. I just issued the evac order for those remaining. The mines will chain-detonate. Get everyone off now!” A’Ran ordered. He watched the visual before him as one mine, then the next and the next, exploded and spewed toxic dust into the atmosphere. They were going fast, much faster than he expected.
“I’m on my way to get you and nishani,” Mansr said.
A’Ran stood, furious the timing was early. He shut down the battle planner and locked it. As he emerged into the early morning sun, he was again surprised to see clouds already forming over the eastern horizon.
He ran toward the sacred temple, suddenly thrown off his feet as a mine in the valley where his men were based exploded. Fountains shot up from the newly formed lake nearby, and the ground rumbled again. The explosions were coming faster, and he launched to his feet, ignoring the bruises and scrapes along his side.
Mansr’s small spacecraft dropped from the sky and hovered above him, following as he darted toward the sacred cave. Another nearby explosion knocked him off balance. He caught himself against a boulder in time to see the ground ahead of him ripple, tear, and fold.
The craft above him opened its door and lowered itself as close as it dared to the ground. A’Ran launched himself upwards, catching the door as the ground beneath him crumbled and gave. The door pulled him in, and he sat in the doorway, coughing at the ore dust cloud and staring.
His destination, the cave hidden at the end of the draw where he’d left nishani, had been swallowed.
“Mansr, take us lower!” he ordered.
“A’Ran.”
Mansr’s calm voice sent a tremor through him.
“Lower, Mansr!” he said again.
“There’s no life anywhere down there. The temple is gone.”
A’Ran heard Mansr’s words as if in a dream. Mansr closed the door as another mine exploded and guided the spacecraft farther off the ground. A’Ran crossed to the cockpit and gazed at the viewer.
There was nothing but a gaping chasm where the temple had been. Mansr still scanned for signs of life, and A’Ran watched as they grew farther from the temple.
He’d left her there to die, assuming she’d be safer in the temple than anywhere else. He watched explosions wrack his planet until they rose high enough that the toxic dust storm he’d started marred the surface of the planet from view.
The space battle stopped completely as Qatwali, Anshan, and Yirkin alike watched the devastation of his planet. A’Ran could only stare. He heard Mansr issue orders to others to rally on the moon and Jetr’s voice come over the speakers. None of their words registered, nothing but the sick feeling at the pit of his stomach. His people were safe. His planet was destroyed, yet all he could think about was her.
“A’Ran!” Mansr shouted. “Suns, man, I need your help here!”
The words jarred him out of his daze, and he blinked, turning to look at Mansr. The momentary pause of the space battle quickly turned to chaos, and Mansr was struggling to outmaneuver the ships darting away from the planet. A’Ran took control of the ship, forcing himself to focus.
Forgive me, Kiera.
He hadn’t just destroyed any hope his planet had of recovering, he’d destroyed the woman he needed, too.