room into which I’d settled as a timeless sanctuary. My skin hurt as if a bad flu were coming on, but the silent storm sent cool mists into the open windows every so often that soothed the pain.
When I grew cold, I retreated from the windows and wrapped myself in the woolen blanket I found folded by the roaring hearth at the back of the room. Part of me wondered at the engineering required to dig a chimney into a mountain to support such a fireplace, but its warmth was the only thing that mattered.
At times, the heat was too much to bear, and I flung off the blanket and ran to the windows, gulping the cool misty air and praying for relief from the persistent pain. At times it felt as if thousands of stinging barbs pierced my entire body, and I shook and trembled, curled into myself on the stone floor. Then, my angel would arrive and coach me through the hardest waves.
Cloaked in mist, I couldn’t see him, but his voice anchored me and helped me survive the cruelest torments. I would follow his voice anywhere.
And then my sanctuary grew fuzzy around its edges. Dark clouds swallowed up the windows and the hearth’s fire dimmed until only darkness remained. My heart raced and my body tensed, the fear of endless torment rising in my throat. But my angel spoke.
“Wake to me,” he said. “It is time to live, CeCe Pain of Earth.”
Memories assailed my thoughts once more. I didn’t want to wake up and face the Ikma Scabmal Kama, the regal harbinger of torture, but it was my angel’s voice I heard. Speaking in my language.
In spite of my terror, I opened my eyes.
And there he was: the powerful male with the broken fang who I first spied on the outdoor screens so long ago.
“It’s you,” I whispered, my voice raspy from thirst. I stared, unbelieving. For countless days, weeks, months—the only beings I’d seen were the Queen and her foul attendants she called maikshel. Over time I’d come to learn it was their word for healer, but I would never bring myself to call them that. Not after what they did to me at her command.
But now, the handsome man filled my vision as he cradled me in his arms, and I recalled hearing his voice. In fact, his was the only voice in my world, and his was the only face. With effort, I raised my left hand to caress his cheek, and stared at my glove and armored forearm in shock.
“Where is this from?” I asked and pulled away from his cheek, moving my familiar glove as I twisted my wrist this way and that, admiring the pale gray metal’s gleam in the low torchlight.
Awareness of my surroundings crept up to me, and I sat with the alien’s help, looking around at the huge stone room with thick pillars, scattered torches burning in sconces, a shadowed Olympic-size pool filled with compost, and two areas stocked with supplies.
Looking down at myself, I saw the pale gray armor covered me entirely except for my own boots and gloves.
As I swept my gloved hands over the smooth metal covering my legs, I remembered with horrific clarity the sling at my middle and its glistening contents.
But now a carved panel covered my abdomen beneath armored chest plates, and I rested my palms over my shielded belly with care. I sensed the skin beneath was whole and raised my gaze to meet the man’s.
“How?” I asked, tears pricking my eyes. I had been certain I was going to die at her hands. I’d even made peace with it, hoping against hope that I’d given my friends the best odds possible to survive. Wonder fought with flashbacks as I stood without help for the first time in forever.
“I will explain all, but our time here is short,” he said, concern softening the stark black and red eyes and the grim set of his mouth. “VELMA is anxious to speak with you. Wear this and tell me if it fits. I may make adjustments if necessary.”
He handed me a matching gray helmet that sported a black mask where a visor panel must be, and I put it on, feeling its base nestle into my shoulders where the armor met it.
“CeCe Pain, VELMA at your service,” VELMA’s voice sounded in my ear, and tears swelled in my eyes again.
“VELMA!” I said, my voice cracking with emotion.
“It is good to hear you again, ADVISOR,” VELMA said, and it almost sounded like her audio faltered.
“I don’t know what to say,” I said to VELMA, but then looked into the man’s face. “What is your name?”
“I am Raxthezana,” he said. “Your helmet?”
I examined the neck and moved my head around, testing its weight and mobility.
“It’s perfect.”
“Very well,” he said, a frown etching his brow. “Can you stand? I’m afraid we must leave the fortress as soon as possible.”
Images of the Ikma Scabmal Kama, as the maikshel had called the woman who did unspeakable things to me, flooded my mind, and I lost vision for a second, falling backward.
Strong arms caught me, and light returned.
“Activity in your amygdala suggests the presence of post-traumatic stress, CeCe Pain,” VELMA said. “Raxthezana is an ally. He and I will protect you as you egress the fortress together. Do you trust me?” she said.
“Are you VELMA-X?” I had to ask. So much had gone wrong.
“No,” she said. “VELMA-X is isolated on a chip card stored in Pattee Crow Flies’ EEP X215 on Planet Ikthe.”
Sagging in relief, I let Raxthezana support me while I tested my ankles and knees and worked to stand.
The lack of food and water and hanging by my arms had weakened my muscles, but moving them increased their strength by the second, and I marveled at the feeling. Raxthezana stepped away from me and I performed a shaky kata, muscle-memory aiding me in the form of my preferred martial art.
Power sizzled under my armor, and the zing invigorated me.
Laughing in spite of myself, I faced Raxthezana. “Why do I feel so good?”
His half-smile pricked at my awareness, but he spoke. “There is much to explain,” he said. “It is best we move now.”
“I kind of want to run,” I said, bending my knees and twisting at the waist. The armor didn’t impede any movement at all, but I still felt thirsty. “Do you have any water?”
He handed me a goblet he’d retrieved from somewhere behind him, and I removed my helmet, draining the goblet in a long swallow.
Replacing the helmet, I watched him don his own, and he beckoned me to follow.
One area at the rear of the pool sported a wall of weapons, and Raxthezana chose a small sword and handed it to me. I tested its weight and shook my head, holding it for him to take it back while I studied the wall. I found one closer to the size I’d trained with—years ago—and pulled it down, giving it a satisfying swing.
“This one,” I said. He showed me where the sheath attached at my waist, and we turned to face the pool.
He bowed to the pool and made a salute, then turned his head slightly toward me and waited.
I mimicked his bow and salute, and we faced the pool.
“Slumber until you are called to Certain Death,” he said, and I repeated it.
Then he ran to the broad stairs leading up to God knew what, and I followed close behind, confused, disoriented, and anxious, but more alive than I’d ever felt before.
“VELMA, what’s going on?” I asked as we flew up the stairs several steps at a time.
“It’s a long story, CeCe,” she said. “Where would you like me to begin? The good news, or the bad news?”
If we weren’t crouch-running through a dark corridor, I would smack myself in the head. The good news/bad news interface had seemed like such a good idea at the time.
While the enormous Raxthezana led the way through a maze of stone halls and secret staircases, VELMA filled me in on the highlights of the last few months while I’d been indisposed. My group had landed on the same planet as the P-MIV, just as I had hoped. Esra had landed first with Pattee closely following. Amity had crashed but survived, and Joan was found last in a horrifying place. Through a series of misadventures, they’d all managed to find each other with the help of hunter warriors like Raxthezana. I interrupted once to make a quick recording, then had her continue.
The fortress was immense but eerily quiet.
I assumed my guide and ally must be avoiding every possible sign of life, because we had yet to see a single soul. We ducked into a deep alcove and my comm buzzed.
“This is the most dangerous part,” his voice caressed my ear. “There is no other way into the hangar but through a vast hall. Your armor has stealth capability, but it is better suited to a jungle environment. You will still cast a shadow; therefore, you must choose your path with care.”
Cocking my head, I tried to envision my rescuer’s face beneath the megalodon-inspired helmet as he spoke to me. It sounded like he wasn’t coming with me.
“But you’ll follow, right?” I sought clarification.
He didn’t answer.