Vengeance (33 page)

Sometime before dawn
Thesa crawled to her bag left on the floor and opened a vial, tipping
the contents back before wiping her lips.  Slowly her breathing
returned to normal and her head drooped forward in relief.  I
don’t know why she waited so long to take this unknown medicine
but I must assume that she had her reasons.

An hour after dawn
she rose and apart from the sheen across her forehead she looked
normal again, though there was something different in her eyes,
something that told me all I needed to know.  She was furious.
Not at me but at the people who did this to me, to us.

“Bastien”
never returned last night as he said he would.  A part of me is
grateful for that.  I’m still not sure how to deal with
him when he does return.  Can I really continue on with the
ruse?  Make him believe that I still have feelings for him?

Two thoughts
continue to nag at me...why did he get so emotional when I rejected
him?  The real Bastien would never have even thought to pressure
me, but I know the pain he would have felt in the light of my
rejection would have been real enough.  This imposter’s
pain had been genuine as well.

How is it that he
knew Bastien well enough to be able to trick me for so long? I can’t
believe that it is merely that I was desperate to see him.  No.
 This imposter knows Bastien.  The only question is for how
long?  Did he capture Bastien?  Did he force Bastien to
reveal things that only he would know so that I could trust him?  Did
he study his movements, his speech?

“How do you
feel?”  I open my eyes at the cool press of Thesa’s
hand against my cheek, grateful for the interruption from my
badgering thoughts.  Being without answers has left me
exhausted.  This day has been long and night swiftly approaches
yet again.

“Better than
you, I think.”

She
smiles and sinks down onto the bed beside me, her side gently
touching my belly.  Her eyes widen with delight when one of the
babies kicks in protest against her taking up any of their space.
 “They are strong.”

I nod.  “That
one is a boy for sure.”

Thesa shifts and
places her hand against my abdomen.  “I always wanted
children,” she whispers.  I can hear the wistful tone in
her voice.  Her smile softens at another kick.  “Once
I had hoped Hyde would be interested in a family.”

“I think he
would have.”  She looks at me and I smile back, knowing
that even though Hyde and I only had a short time together that he
opened himself up to me in ways he had never done with other people.
 “I think there were a great many things about Hyde that
would have made him a perfect father.”

Her lips twitch
before she lowers her gaze and I know my words are bittersweet.
 Raising my hand I place it atop of hers.  “He loved
you, Thesa.  I knew it the moment he first spoke your name.  It
was the way his entire posture would soften.  That man loved you
with all that he was.”

“I know.”
 She closes her eyes and breathes out a long, slow breath.  She
pauses several moments before speaking again, obviously fighting to
control her emotions.  “I always knew something like this
would happen though.  Whether he liked to admit it or not, he
was a good guy, and that sort of man typically gets hurt in the end.”

I squeeze her hand,
wishing that I could do more to comfort her.  “His death
was not wasted,” I assure her.  “His last moments
were spent showing me kindness.  I can’t think of a better
way to go.”

“I can.”
 Her expression tightens and I feel her anger as easily as I can
see it swiftly steal away her warmth.  She turns to look at me
and all hint of her earlier smile has vanished.  It is replaced
with a grim determination.  “I want Hendrix to know the
pain that I feel.  If I die trying to get to him then I die, but
he goes first.”

I nod, feeling the
same way about the Bastien imposter.  I vow that he will die by
my hand, but first I want information.  If he knows where
Bastien is then he is my only chance of ever finding him.  “What
did Hendrix do to you?”

Thesa’s hand
flinches under mine.  I can feel a tremble beginning in her
fingers that works its way up her arm.  “I was a slave.
He…” she cuts off, shaking her head.

“You don’t
have to say it,” I whisper, patting her hand.

“No.”
 She raises her eyes to look at me.  “I do need to
say it. I repeat it over and over again to myself each night before I
sleep.  He hurt me.  Tortured me.  He killed everyone
that I knew in the mines.  Eradicated them as if they were
vermin.”

I frown and slowly
draw my hand back.  “Wait a second.  How many people
are we talking about?”

She shrugs.  “A
thousand.  More.  I never really had the chance to count
them all.  There were so many tunnels.  So many shifts that
we worked in around the clock.  I used to hate the nightshift.
 It would get so cold that my fingers would stiffen and I feared
breaking off the tips.”

I watch as she turns
her hands over to stare at the black stains in her fingers.  “What
were you digging for down there?” I ask.  “The
energy source?”

Thesa laughs and
raises her hands out beside her, motioning to the room about me. “No.
 They found that years ago.  How do you think all of this
works?”

“Well if
that’s not what they were searching for…” I trail
off, confused by Hendrix’s behavior.  Why would a man
slaughter innocent men and women?  Surely the price on each of
their heads would have been worth a great deal to him off world.  

Thesa clasps her
hands in her lap and I notice that she curls all of her fingers
inward so that she doesn’t have to see the stains.  “There
is something down there, deep in those mines that Hendrix wants to
remain buried.”

“And what of
the snake people?  The...the Symaica?”

“Gone.
 Scattered.  Those who remained behind to fight were caught
in the fire.  I have never seen flames like that before.  Green
as grass and hotter than any manmade flame.  It chased after us,
as if it knew how to find us.  Some of the snake people fled to
safety.  I don’t know to where though.”

I grunt as I press
my palms into the mattress and adjust my position, rising to sit a
bit higher.  “And you say these Symaica were good?”

“Yes.”
 She smiles.  “They were kind to us.  They fed
us, clothed us and sometimes after a long day in the dark they would
allow us a few minutes of light to gather and sing songs together.
 It wasn’t much but when you live in darkness any amount
of light is healing.”

I chew on my lower
lip, trying to sort through what I know to be true and what could
quite possibly not be.  “The imposter said that this
planet is unstable.  That it is dying.”

“No.”
 She shakes her head adamantly.  “These eruptions are
natural occurrences here.  The gas explosions and the tremors
are normal.  It is what helps to ease the pressure, what
stabilizes the heat.  Without it the energy source within the
planet would crumble the surface.”

I just can’t
figure this out.  It is infuriating to feel as if I am on the
verge of a breakthrough only to find myself wandering aimlessly lost
in the dark again.  When did my life become a maze of twists and
turns?  “What do you think it is down there?”

Thesa purses her
lips for a moment to think over my words.  Finally she shrugs.
 “My guess would be something very old. Something even the
snake people were not around to bury.”

“Was there
someone here before them?”

“I do not
know,” she answers honestly,  “but whatever it is
that is down there...Hendrix went to a great deal of trouble to cover
it up.”

Our vehicle jolts to
a sudden stop and I am nearly thrown out of bed.  Thesa is
instantly on her feet and at the window within three giant steps.  At
her waist I notice her tuck a hand into her velvety plum robes and I
realize that the glint of silver I spy is a dagger, wavy in design
but deadly looking.

“What is it?”
I ask.

She peers into the
dark, just as blind as I am.  “I do not know.  We
should not be stopping yet.  We never stop at night.  It is
when we are most vulnerable to attack.”

Glancing toward the
door, Thesa tucks her blade back into its hiding place and rushes to
the seating area.  With a mighty grunt she pushes the two-seater
couch in front of the door.  She struggles to lift the second,
managing to prop it against the first rather than place it directly
over top.

A small breeze
unsettles my hair as she rushes past me and grabs the small table
beside my bed, lifting it against her chest before she rushes back
and deposits it on top of the seats.   The second bedside
table goes next and finally the small oval table that once held books
between the two couches.

She turns around in
search of something else to use and her gaze lands on my bed.
 “Should I get up?”

She bites down on
her lip, looking torn.  I know that she does not want to risk my
standing and yet by the rising sound of shouting outside I know that
we might be in danger.  Taking the decision away from her, I
grab my walking stick and shift to let my leg fall over the edge.
 She rushes toward me and helps me rise, supporting my stomach
as I lift.

“Lean back
against the wall and be sure to hold tightly to your stomach.  No
sudden movements,” she warns.

I nod, all too happy
to let the wall take most of my weight.  Between my stomach and
the weightiness of my neck clamp, I feel as if I weigh as much as
this darn vehicle that I’m riding in.  Thesa grunts loudly
as she tugs on the bed.  Sweat begins to bead along her forehead
when the mattress suddenly comes free.  She cries out in warning
as it slides my way but manages to shove it aside just in time.  I
meet her gaze and realize how close we just came to a disaster.  If
that mattress had hit my leg I would have gone with it.

“I’m
good,” I smile and wipe sweat from my own brow.  My
furnace is back on and something is stoking it hotter and hotter.  

She nods and bends
at her waist, hoisting the mattress up on its end and shoves it
against the door.  She turns to grab for the frame but the
entire car jolts.  I cry out as she tumbles forward head first
into the raised metal frame.  Her shoulders slump as she
crumples to the floor.  I can see blood splattered across the
carpet.

“Thesa,”
I cry out.  “Thesa, answer me.”

No moan.  No
movement.  No sign that she heard me.

I glance toward the
windows and see armed men rushing toward my vehicle.  They carry
laser guns that are similar to Caldonian make, though ours are far
more streamlined.  At their waist I spy odd flashes of light.
 Grasping my stick, I hop toward the window, needing a better
look.

As the first man
seizes the handle of my car and hoists himself inside I realize
exactly what I am seeing: glowing swords of light.  

“Natasha’s
dream,” I whisper, backing against the wall.  She told me
that there would be a great battle, with men using glowing swords.
 She saw death.  A lot of it.

I look to Thesa and
see that she is barely breathing. Her neck lies at an awkward angle
and the stain of blood has begun to spread.  I look about me in
search of a way out, knowing that even if I find one it is not likely
that I will get far in my current state.

Outside my door I
can hear the approach of pounding boots and know they are coming for
me.  How long will Thesa’s makeshift barricade last
against laser guns?   

There is no other
door out of this room.  I’m sure the imposter saw to that
when he selected it for me.  One way in.  No way out.   

Pounding
at my door sends me careening back away from Thesa.  I want to
help her, to get her out of harm’s way, but I’m barely
standing as it is.  I can feel my heart thumping in my throat,
hear its steady beat in my ears.  
What
am I going to do?

Pressing my hand
against my stomach, I whisper, “now would be a good time to
wake up, kiddos.”

Nothing.
 
I
guess they don’t deem this enough of a life threatening
situation!
I
snort, feeling the irony of that.

A terrible crash
behind me nearly sends me carpet diving.  I clutch my chest,
leaning heavily against my stick as I turn and see a huge hand
beating against my window.  Bursts of red lasers light up the
night sky as soldiers begin to emerge from their vehicles.  The
pounding at my door increases.  “Open up or we are coming
in,” a man shouts.  His accent is thick and distinctly
non-human.  There is a gurgling raspy tone to his words.  I
suspect he is one of the many otherworldly creatures that Hendrix has
acquired along the way.

Another
slam of the giant fists cracks the liquid state of the window and I
watch in wonder as it begins to solidify, like a rapid freeze on a
pond.

“Illyria, back
away,” a voice shouts.  I barely have time to react before
the fist breaks through and a gaping hole opens before me.  Shards
of the frozen liquid slice at my skin.  I cry out in pain as
hundreds of tiny razors bite at me.  The hum of laser guns
erupts behind me and the mattress begins to shudder.  It’s
only a matter of time before it catches on fire.

A
slender figure appears from the dark outside, gripping the edge of my
window with black gloved hands, and then rises before me.  Her
dark hair falls over her face, concealing her.

“You just
gonna stand there like an idiot or let me rescue you?”  With
a shake of her head I realize that a ghost stands before me.

“Natasha?”
 I limp backward until my back is against the wall.  She
rolls her eyes and rushes forward.  

“Now’s
not the time to start fainting on me.”  She holds up her
hands before her, cautious as she approaches.  I stare at her,
trying to figure out what my brain is trying to tell me.  “I
gotta get you outta here.”