Quest For Earth (32 page)

They broke into a run with Maaka leading the way. He must have visited the city many times, for he seemed to have no difficulty guiding them through the winding roads.

He led them down yet another road, then took a lane way off to the left where he stopped outside a large allotment where several transporters were parked.

‘There are no guards,' Sherise gasped, pressing a hand to her racing heart.

‘The Corporation has become complacent over the years, believing none would dare defy their laws. This has always worked to my advantage.' Maaka pointed at the transporter closest to the road. ‘We will take that one.'

‘Can you drive it?' Kondo looked dubiously at the vehicle that was similar to the one Sherise had seen them leave the landing bay in a few days ago.

‘No, but you will.'

Kondo cursed.

They piled into the seats. Sherise kept flicking glances at the vid-cams, expecting at any moment for the peacekeepers to appear and open fire.

Within a few back-breaking moments they were on their way out of the city, with Kondo muttering over the steering mechanism. The short journey was enlivened by several stops, grinding of gears and the shrill whistling of steam from the funnel. But Sherise ignored it as she sent a message to Dyrke to get their people back to the
Quinnie
and then another to Bree begging her to go with Dyrke.

When they reached the port, Kondo stopped the transporter several yards from the entrance to the landing area. Sherise clambered to the ground and activated her personal sensors. Maaka joined her and looked over her shoulder as multiple unknown heat signatures registered.

‘The area is guarded,' she said quietly. She pointed to three figures. ‘These here are Darkons and the orange colour indicates they are unconscious.'

‘Remain here.' Maaka nodded to Kondo, who gestured to his men who'd been waiting for their return, and together they slipped quietly inside the landing zone.

Sherise heard the short zapping bursts of plitza fire and moments later Maaka reappeared and beckoned her forward.

They hurried over to the shuttle, which had already been powered up, and climbed on board. Sherise sank into the nearest empty chair and shrugged the harness over her shoulders. A quick glance and she realised Maaka had no need of assistance. He sat relaxed, arms crossed over his chest, his head against the back rest of the seat. The satisfied expression on his face caused her to bite her lip and turn aside.

For the moment all was going according to his plan, but Sherise had no intention of remaining in the Outworld. The first chance she got, she would commandeer a shuttle and return to the
Quinnie
.

He might be the mate of my heart but that does not mean he is master of my life
.

She could not fail to remember how there had been no tender words from Maaka, no pleas from him to join his world. No, he had been all business, all arrogant demands. Cool, confident and terrifyingly remote. Especially hard for her to accept when she could still feel the heat of his naked skin against hers, the bliss of his urgent thrusting into her sheath and the heavy pounding of his heart as they had joined.

He could be a different man.

It made her thankful she had not uttered any words of affection.

She spared another look in his direction. He had closed his eyes. Was that a smirk on his face? She hunched her shoulders and concentrated on her heaving stomach while the shuttle lifted into the sky.

***

The clamps jolted into place and the shuttle's engines whined into a soft purr before shutting down. The silence lasted a minute, no more, before the cabin was filled with the clatter and bustle of soldiers releasing their harnesses and retrieving their holdalls.

They stood aside to allow Sherise and Maaka to exit.

Once on the ground, she cast a morose look at her surroundings. The Fallen City had not improved in her absence; if anything it looked more sinister than ever in the stark light provided by the bright morning sun. At least no wind howled through the shattered buildings to stir up dust and debris.

‘Aren't we heading to the Freebers' settlement?' She frowned as she spied two other shuttles from the
Quinnie
.

‘Later. First, I want to speak to my men. They've been out on scouting parties the past few days.' Maaka took her arm and led her into the building she recognised as his headquarters. He remained silent and she was more than content to be left alone with her thoughts while they trudged up the stairs. She needed to decide how she would slip unnoticed back to the shuttle.

When they emerged onto the main level, she was surprised at the number of warriors crowding the space. Everyone appeared to be busy about some task and the air hummed with suppressed tension and excitement. Over near the wall, a number of Lycaneans were grouped around a warrior she recognised as Junta, whose face looked set in stone. He raised his fist high in the air and gestured.

Maaka said, ‘Take a moment to rest.'

His gaze was fixed on the group of soldiers. He left her, the crowd parting before him.

Sherise looked around and found Kondo crouched beside some containers. ‘Kondo,' she called out.

Her bodyguard glanced up from inspecting a metal box she suspected contained some form of weaponry and straightened. He muttered something to one of his men and crossed the room.

‘Lady,' he said and inclined his head.

She indicated the various boxes and containers strewn on the floor. The insignia of the royal Darkon house was bold in black lettering on the sides. ‘I gave no order for our weapons to be distributed to the Lycaneans. What are they doing here?'

‘I've given my vow to assist Maaka.'

‘So you have stolen them. And what of the two shuttles I saw outside?'

‘My men used them to transport down from the
Quinnie
. Do not be concerned I have left your people without any means to defend themselves. We have only taken what we need.'

‘By all that is holy! Another fool whose only desire is to spill blood upon the ground. Can you not see violence is not the answer?' She glared at his hard face. ‘Have your long cycles warring against us taught you nothing?'

‘I have learnt to choose my battles.'

‘I do not understand.'

‘This has not been an easy decision and I have given the matter great deliberation. The Lycaneans' war is worthy of my life and that of my men.'

‘What of your decision to put war behind you? After handing over the leadership of your people to your younger brother, I believed you to be tired of such a life.'

His gaze shifted, looked beyond her into the distance. For a brief moment she glimpsed deep yearning in his eyes.

His voice cold, he said, ‘I believe the Lycaneans have justice on their side. There is something about that city I cannot shake from my mind. It causes me deep unease.'

How to answer that, when she felt the same shiver?

Kondo looked over at where Maaka was conversing with his second-in-command. ‘I have not digressed from my vow to protect you because I am still by your side.'

‘I am not staying here.'

He snorted.

‘Then I cannot persuade you otherwise.' Sherise said in a flat voice, suddenly exhausted. Now that the Lycaneans had access to the Darkon technology, war would be inevitable. So many would perish and, once again, the land would be awash in a sea of broken bodies.

Noise like the rush of water filled her head, then faded to a hushed silence and she no longer stood within brick-walls. Open grassland surrounded her. In the sky to the east, heavy green-grey clouds bubbled and churned. She gazed over the plains where a dark heaving mass moved towards her at speed. Faint, at first, then louder and louder, the drumming of many footsteps upon the hard-baked earth vibrated like the beating of war drums. She heard the clash of metal and the shrieking of the Half-dead as they raced within striking range. Behind her came the answering roars of the Lycaneans. She whirled round. Maaka led the charge. He swept past her, the unholy light of battle blazing from his eyes, his mouth stretched into a snarl. The line of men met the oncoming black tide with a smash of weapons and bones.

The smell of fresh blood tainted the hot, still air.

Her vision blurred and she returned to the present. What by Cercis's cloak had just happened? She'd never experienced a vision before. Had it materialised out of her own fears or was it a vision of a time to come? Her stomach churned, her heartbeat raced and, swallowing, she willed the nausea to abate. When she met Kondo's gaze there was concern in his face, but she turned away.

Maaka strode to her side.

‘What is amiss?' His hand slid over her hair, his fingers gently soothing down her braid. But his voice was cool.

There was an expression on his face she could not interpret. Rage? Barely contained. But why? She could feel it pulsing from his body and made a tentative attempt to reach his mind, only to find he'd blocked her.

She went to brush past but he stayed her with his hand on her shoulder.

‘Wait,' he said.

There it was again. She heard it in his voice. Something dark and dangerous, a note she had never heard him use before. A warning prickled her skin.

‘Who gave your alien weapons to the Half-dead?' The words sounded as if dredged up from the deepest pits of his soul and petrified her bones to stone.

Her mouth sagged open.

Silence fell over the watching soldiers as they waited for a response.

She stared first at Maaka, whose skin was stretched tautly over the bones of his face. Red flames flickered within the purple depths of his eyes. Then she stared at Kondo, who looked as blank as she felt. Her gaze switched back to Maaka, hoping his crusading expression of retribution had vanished.

If anything it had hardened.

‘Why would we do such a thing?'

‘If I knew, I would not ask you.'

‘Our policy is not to become involved in planetary disputes.'

‘Then explain this.' Maaka grabbed a weapon off Junta, who'd followed him, and showed it to her.

‘A furlon blaster! What has happened?' She stared into Maaka's blazing eyes. Suddenly he lifted the blocks from his mind and she read the fury and grief roiling inside him.

Realisation hit hard. ‘It's the Freebers, isn't it?' she whispered. ‘They've been attacked.'

***

The attack on the Freebers' cave settlement had been deadly.

The level of destruction and number of dead more than she could count, Sherise moved amongst the wounded giving aid where possible. She wanted to scream, shout, plead with the goddess for mercy, but she knew it was too late for her prayers to be answered. Instead, she buried her emotions and embraced her persona of healer. She could have used Bree's help but her friend was far from here.

Sherise interpreted the data from the shayote she had waved over the injured farmer huddled into a ball on the fresh straw.

It seemed like aons ago since Maaka had delivered his broadside; so much had happened. He had swung away from both Sherise and Kondo as if the sight of them caused him physical pain and issued a flurry of orders. Sherise had been loaded onto a shuttle crammed full of weapons and soldiers and the flyer had taken off, engines screaming in defiance as it was pushed to its limit.

No sooner had they landed, than they flowed out of the shuttle like a river bent on destroying all that lay before it. But the Half-dead had fled the scene. The next five hours were a blur in her mind, as she and the other medics had worked on the worst injured first, then tended to the children and women before moving onto the men.

Maaka appeared to be everywhere. Each time she had looked around, he had been carrying the dead, moving obstacles and belongings smeared with blood, laying fresh straw in a clean-smelling cave to be used to house the wounded. The last time she had seen him he had been covered in grit and dust and was hauling huge boulders in his arms. He had been busy digging at the face of the collapsed caves.

She shuddered. People could still be trapped; either under mounds of rubble and rock or in confined dark holes, buried alive behind a wall of stone.

Everyone had worked hard through the night and now dawn had come and gone. Sherise rummaged in her satchel and applied a salve of herbs over a cut which sliced the farmer from his belly across his ribs, upwards towards his throat. This one had been lucky, as the cut was not deep and had failed to slice through any organs, but he would carry the scar for the remainder of his days.

A small price to pay for one's life. She gave a brief prayer of thanks to Cercis and moved onto the next.

Maaka strode through the entrance, calling her name, a tiny bundle covered in grey dust and a filthy blanket in his arms. She grabbed her satchel and hurried to his side.

He laid his burden down with infinite care and stepped back a pace.

Sherise lifted an edge of the blanket and eased it away from the small figure to reveal a child, possibly of two or three cycles. The little girl was unconscious. Apart from the blood oozing from a wound on her head and mingling with her dusty mop of brown curls, there was no other sign of injury. The twin crescents of feathery lashes were dark on her white face and her small rosebud-shaped lips tightened before relaxing. This tiny child was in pain and Sherise suspected internal injuries. Could her organs be damaged?

She glanced up at Maaka towering over her. His hands were curled into fists at his sides, his mouth a long thin line. He sensed her gaze and turned to her. The fire in his essence appeared banked, dammed by the wall of grief she saw glistening like dark pools in his eyes.

‘Can you help her?'

‘I will do everything I can. By Cercis's cloak, this one will not perish,' Sherise said, her voice cracking.

A flash of understanding warmed his eyes and Maaka nodded.

‘Bring me fresh water and tell Kondo to ready a medie tube. I do not care who occupies it, get them out.'