Zenith. Lindsay Cummings
in the center of the sea. The color spread, churning, until the Conduit looked like a raging whirlpool of hues. A sea of darkness transformed into sweeping, glittering light.
Around her, the Yielded shifted. Breaths released. Hands began to shake. But the girl’s heart simply fluttered, as if sensing what was soon to come. She’d already seen it in her dreams.
She watched, eyes unblinking, as the Conduit began to stretch, sending floating orbs of its light into the sky.
They trailed higher, catching the wind. Dancing like souls released to the stars.
Soon, the orbs would shift. Soon, they would choose the one worthy of the journey.
The girl was ready, reaching into the folds of her cloak as the orbs began to form a trail in the sky. They rose, higher, higher, like the tail of a blazing star. When they got high enough, they would reach the top of the tower. And then they would choose.
The girl’s dreams told her it would be her. But she had to be certain. She would not leave the hope of her people up to fate.
As the first orbs began to reach the top of the tower, she slid the blade from her cloak. It was silent, not even a hiss as it grazed across the sleek fabric.
“The dreams are true,” she whispered.
Then she went about the room, sliding her blade across Yielded throats.
Taking precious lives.
It was too easy, just as her dreams had promised. Each year, there would be more Yieldings, more chosen. But she would now be the first.
When the girl was done, crumpled bodies silent at her feet, she stepped over them. As she pressed her bloody palms to the glass of the tower, steam swam across it like a cloud.
Outside, the orbs from the Conduit had gathered in the sky to form an arrow, lighting her up like a beacon. Revealing her to the thousands of beings gathered far below. She could feel them roar, so loudly the glass trembled, as she was chosen.
The Yielding was over.
The Conduit had chosen.
And only the girl remained.
DEX
“THE HELL I AM!” Dex leaped to his feet.
That old, sagging, sneaking bastard.
“Will that be an issue, Dextro?” The general smiled like a Soleran ice wolf, pale blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked to Dex. “You will be joining Androma on her mission to make sure she stays in line and doesn’t escape. I’ve already lost one child to her foolishness. I won’t lose another.”
Dex cursed inwardly.
He should have known better than to scheme with the general of Arcardius after all that he’d heard about the man—the decorated soldier with the ability to weasel his way into getting what he wanted by twisting words and blackmailing anyone who stood in his way. An ability few witnessed, but many whispered about. General Cyprian Cortas was a walking, talking hypocrite of the Arcardian way of honor.
“We had a deal,” Dex said through gritted teeth.
“And the deal will still be honored. The terms have simply been...” the general waved a hand, as if dismissing their old agreement “...extended.”
“I could kill her,” Dex snarled. “And then what would you do to get back your precious son?” He glanced sideways at Andi, who was now on her feet, too, hands balling into fists as if preparing for a fight that Dex wasn’t sure he would actually win.
“Ah,” Andi said, “but we both know how that would go.” She smiled at him mockingly.
Dex felt his own hands curling up, the blades in his gloves begging to slip free and find their mark across her throat.
Instead, Dex turned back to the general.
“She’s plenty capable of doing this job on her own. I am not a babysitter.” He’d played his part; the job was supposed to be done.
General Cortas raised a graying brow. “Do you want your money or not, bounty hunter?”
So he was going to play it that way. Dex sighed. “You have thousands of men and women at your command. Why not pick one of them to escort her? She’ll probably eject me from the ship the moment we get out of range. You know that.” It would be an incredibly Androma thing to do.
“Then you’d better stay alert,” the general suggested.
“Do I get any say in who is coming onto my ship?” Andi said, arms held up in exasperation, cuffs glowing bright.
Dex whirled on her. “It’s not your ship.”
“Finders, keepers, Dextro.”
“Enough!” General Cortas barked out. He approached the camera on his side, his face growing large enough on the screen that Dex could see his eyes give a sudden twitch.
“You can go with her, Mr. Arez, and get your money and stay in the government’s good graces when the job is done, or you can leave here with nothing. Keep in mind that I am your greatest hope of being reinstated as a Guardian. The choice is yours.”
Dex was truly and thoroughly screwed if he rejected this job. Not only would he lose a cargoload of Krevs, but everything he had gone through to get to this moment, when he was so close to regaining his Guardian title that he could almost taste it, would all have been for nothing. Not unless he played the general’s awful little game and teamed up with the very person who’d gotten his Guardianship stripped from him in the first place.
His guts roiled just thinking of soaring away from here with Androma Racella at his side, on board his ship. The very same one that she’d stolen from him three years ago, when she left him bleeding on that moon.
He’d survived. But she’d taken everything he loved.
This time, he was looking forward to taking back his ship and blasting off into space, leaving her behind to watch it go, to feel what he had felt.
He turned, slowly, to look at Andi now.
She seemed frozen. Trapped. And yet he knew, deep in that mind of hers, she was coming up with some sort of plan for revenge against him.
Dex sighed.
This was a battle he’d lost against the general. But there was payment and his reputation on the line, two things he valued more than anything else in this life.
He wouldn’t go down without a fight.
He’d caught her, just as he’d set out to do. Now he just had to keep her in his grasp a little longer, until the job was done.
And ensure that she didn’t try to kill him. Again.
So Dex Arez, the greatest bounty hunter in the Mirabel Galaxy, stared deep into Andi’s moonlit eyes and winked at her as he said, “It’ll be just like old times, love.”
LIRA
THERE WEREN’T MANY things in this galaxy that Lira Mette hated.
A slow ship, though annoying at first, could always be altered to run faster, if she had the right parts and the right crew.
A wad of expired Moon Chew, though bitter as a cold Soleran night, could still give her just enough of a buzz to lift her spirits during a dull flight.
Even her captain’s temper, which was as vicious as an electric whip, could be channeled into something that made the crew of the Marauder great. Terrifying enough, even, to make people quake at the mention of their names.