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

save them and not just bring them to a quicker death in space. Then again, even that might be a blessing.

He heard a shuffle behind him and smiled.

“I congratulate you, Captain Mistolta. It seems you know of more ways to cheat death than most.”

“Yoma is awake and she’s recovering her strength quickly,” Zortan said, and Kipso nodded. He could hear the sounds of evacuation all around him; not the frenzied sounds from the bunker, but instead a heavy hush. “I’m going to take the twins to the temple.”

Gobran suddenly missed the safe, nurturing rays of the sun of Mirial, wishing it would dispel the darkness he felt clutching his soul. “Tell me, Zortan, what will you do if one of the twins must die after all, to save Mirial?”

Zortan stiffened visibly and Gobran put his hands up. “Don’t get me wrong — I would gladly follow one or both girls into battle. But, the truth is, this will rest in your hands. I just need to know that Mirial will be safe.”

 “It’s my duty to see them safe, Gobran,” Zortan whispered. For the first time, Gobran felt sympathy for his old friend.

Gobran approached him and placed his hand on Zortan’s shoulder. He remembered his youth, when they — along with Radin — had pursued similar dreams. He remembered how he had once trusted him, and let the matter rest.

“I will evacuate what I can of the city,” Gobran said. “Some of the ships barely made it here, but I think we can get a lot of people off this planet. I’ll try to make it to the shields before Mirial sheds another layer. The further we get, the greater our chances of survival.” He took his hand off Zortan’s shoulder and added, “Our people’s chances of survival.”

“If Mirial perishes, you will not be long for this life, no matter where you run.”

Gobran gave a short laugh. “Always the positive thinker, Zortan Mistolta. Perhaps we will perish either way, but maybe, just maybe, those stories were wrong, too.”

Zortan chuckled. He held out his hand and Gobran clasped it warmly. “Best of luck to you, Gobran Kipso.”

“Oh no,” Gobran chuckled. “I’m leaving all the luck with you. Our luck is entirely dependent on yours.”

Zortan gave a tight smile and nodded before turning to walk away. Gobran watched his swift movements as he vanished between ships. He would soon need to leave again, but this time, he would not be pursuing one of his old friends. He would be leaving him behind.

“Ships are full and ready for departure, Captain.” Loran came up beside him, handing him a well-prepared report of passengers and crew. Less than one thousand of the original population of Mirial remained. He felt another white hair claim space on his head.

“Thank you, Loran. Please prepare her for flight.”

Loran stayed beside him, shuffling her feet a bit, then looked at him, determined. “I’m not going with you, Captain.”

“What?”

Loran swallowed hard, but held her ground. “I spent my whole life trying to find where I belong, and where Mirial was. My parents did not leave me with much, but they did leave me with a love for Mirial. I want to fight for her.”

Gobran took a step closer to her, Loran’s eyes defiantly meeting his. “You froze on the bridge when the wraiths attacked, Loran. What makes you think you can handle an army of dark monsters?”

Loran flushed. “I can learn from my mistakes. I need to do this, Captain, with or without your blessing.”

Gobran sighed. Another white hair. He shook his head and placed both his hands on the slight woman’s shoulders. They were squared and proud, and whatever doubt he had when he had made her First Mate now vanished.

He removed his hands and formally saluted her, and she flushed with pride as she returned the gesture. She nodded and walked away, her spine straighter than before, her head held high and proud.

He felt a slight hand on his arm and covered it with his big one.

Today, it seemed, he could save no children but his own.

i

With each passing minute, the sky became a lighter purple, the red hues slowly defeated by the blues as the moon took its bow. In the distance, the creatures wailed and the blue shields flickered, attacked from all sides. Layela wondered how long they would hold.

Yoma walked beside her, still tired from her recent trials. Layela wished she knew more about the ether. She felt certain that it could revitalize as well as drain. Around them, the evacuation proceeded calmly, although no ship had yet taken off. Layela frowned. They would need to start going soon, if they had any chance of getting far enough.

“Layela, Yoma!” She turned to see Avienne sitting on a low wall, her swollen ankle resting on a pillow. The twins walked towards her.

“What happened to your foot?” Layela asked. It was grotesquely swollen, and she doubted it would support Avienne’s weight. She also doubted Avienne would leave the planet without her brother, and she doubted Ardin would leave without Layela. Part of her was pleased he was staying, although part of her wished he would go.

“Ask your sister. She’s responsible for this.”

Yoma’s eyebrows shot up. “Who’s responsible for my face? And who, might I ask, refused help even though she limped like a three-wheeled land rider?”

Layela ignored the two and took a closer look at the ankle. “May I?” she asked, reaching for the bandage.

Avienne sucked in a deep breath and mumbled, “Help yourself.”

 If the powers of Mirial were strong enough to fight off darkness and save an entire planet — if ether was so necessary for life that the world outside the shields slowly withered without it — then ether should be able to heal a simple sprain. She felt Yoma near her, and wondered if the powers of night or day were needed to heal.

Layela shed the question and concentrated on Avienne instead, pulling the mists around her and focusing them on the wound. She could see them dancing around the foot, but they did not penetrate