Destiny's Blood by Marie Bilodeau (best authors to read .TXT) 📗

“What about this ten-second gift I’ve heard so much about?” Layela mumbled as she continued following Josmere, the darkness thick and smothering.

“Hey, I was half-dead. Give a girl a break!”

“Here we are,” she said kneeling carefully, which Layela did as well, tiring her eyes by trying to focus them through the thick veil of enclosed twilight.

She reached out and felt the smooth stone of the fountain. Earlier, when walking around with Ardin, the lack of columns had struck her, and she imagined the windows must be of an extremely strong material. It also made her question which areas of the floor and ceiling contained conduits and wiring. The one place where strong tunnelling was necessary was the fountain, which could easily be their way out. If Layela had mapped the ship correctly, the gardens were just above the shuttle bay. She felt giddy at the thought. How convenient.

“Access panels should be down here,” Josmere mumbled, running her smooth fingers on the side of the fountain. She was certain the engineers had left access to the water pipes, meaning panels would likely be in this section of the floor.

They had to be.

“Victory, my friend,” Josmere said as she noisily pulled up what could only be the cover to an access tunnel. Layela moved toward the sound and felt the large section of the thickest side of the fountain removed.

“I don’t suppose you know how far these tunnels go, ten-second girl?” Layela asked.

“I did my part, Layl. Now’s your turn to dance.” She could hear the grin in Josmere’s voice, and pulled a small instrument free from her belt, making sure it was well aimed at Josmere’s face before turning it on.

The Berganda winced and ducked as Layela turned on the light right in front of Josmere’s eyes.

“You have a light?”

Layela shrugged. “I stole it from Ardin earlier.”

“Why didn’t you take it out before now!?”

It was Layela’s turn to grin. “I wanted to witness this ten-second ability firsthand.”

Josmere smirked at her and motioned for Layela to lead the way. “Good job, Layela. I always said we could have made a thief out of you.”

“I was once, remember?” she whispered, but the Berganda was too focused on the task at hand to hear.

Layela sighed and crawled into the access tunnel, the metal surrounding them still shiny after all these years. In the reflection of the light, for one instant, Layela saw the eyes of the Kilita. She swallowed hard and pushed the memories deep.

The tunnel was short, leading to a ladder that only headed down.

“Must lead to the docking bay,” Josmere whispered, and Layela nodded, sticking the light in her mouth as she began the descent, the cold biting her hands as she grabbed one metal rung after another. She hoped Josmere’s hands would safely carry her the whole way, especially considering that she was above Layela on the ladder.

At the next level, she silently let go of the rungs and fell onto the small metal landing, an access door right in front of them. Josmere joined her and she punched in the code.

They could hear someone singing. Layela cringed. It was Lang, the navigator, and from the loud singing, it sounded like he had a healthy stash of alcohol on board as well.

“Wait here,” Josmere whispered. “I want to try something.”

Layela wanted to protest, but the Berganda slipped out quickly and quietly, closing the door behind her.

Layela counted her breaths.

Thief’s breaths.

i

The man was drunk, there was little doubt about that, but Josmere didn’t take any chances. Keeping low and quiet, she approached where he sat on the floor, in the middle of the bay by the shuttles.

She had been unable to read Ardin. She only knew of two other people who could stop her powers if they so wished: the Delamores. The legend of Berganda being able to suck the souls out of individuals was greatly exaggerated. She could read their minds, however, and destroy them if necessary. But it wasn’t just an automatic happenstance, as the government seemed intent to believe. The Berganda had to will the mind-merge.

She crouched by the last crate, calculating the steps necessary to reach him. He was still singing, and moving sporadically. She could approach him, if she was fast. She crouched and waited, removing her gloves.

Her ether gloves were yet another useless, paranoid stupidity on the part of the Solarian government. One of so many, really. Wearing them served only to further alienate and frighten people. All of the ether races were forced to wear them, races whose powers were now dwindling and whose people were dying.

She took a deep breath, straightened and walked forward with a confident strut. According to Layela, the navigator was not from the ship’s original crew, and she knew that she could read him even before she touched his cold clammy skin and his eyes bulged in surprise. She followed his thoughts and controlled them, forcing him to show her his knowledge of the ship, of the shuttle, of how to escape with little notice, to which the man had thankfully dedicated much thought.

The man collapsed, unconscious but breathing, and so drunk that he probably would remember nothing in the morning. He knew a lot about the ship’s functionality, its illegal activities and where all the liquor was stored. He also knew he was trapped here, by his own habit and by the captain, who knew a good controllable navigator when he met one and was not fool enough to let him go. At the same time, his memories were clouded by visions of a beautiful blonde woman, her laughter and touch, and such sorrow...Josmere saw the woman’s dead features, felt the drink through his blood, and his detachment from this reality. Too pained by memory, too cowardly to take his own life, he was withering away in the Destiny. And he didn’t care, knowing this was as good as he would ever get, hoping it would all end soon enough.

But he knew nothing about