Destiny's Blood by Marie Bilodeau (superbooks4u txt) 📕

And then there was nothing.

“Josmere?” Layela knelt before her, blocking the sight of the dead Berganda. Josmere focused on the deep blue of her eyes and the warmth of her flushed skin. Layela hesitated. “She would have killed you, Josmere. I just, I only had a second to act, and...”

A sob knocked the back of Josmere’s throat, hard. The Destiny shook with the impact of a massive volley and the lights flickered. The two friends struggled to keep balance, while Seela’s body slid and rolled, her green blood carpeting the metallic floors of the ship.

“We have to go.” Layela pulled Josmere up, unresisting.

“You did kill me, Layela,” Josmere whispered, but Layela did not seem to hear, energized by the need to escape.

Still, as they both ran towards the nearest access point to reach the bridge, sob after sob kept catching in the Berganda’s throat.

Layela had sealed her people’s fate and doomed them.

She had killed the last.

CHAPTER 26

The Victory manoeuvred by the last of the Solarian fleet, its allies protecting its flanks. Gobran Kipso stood by his chair, clutching its back but refusing to sit in it. A volley blew past them and the ship rocked. Gobran lost his footing and stumbled back by Yoma.

She kept her eye on the purple menacing sky before her, but she snagged Kipso’s arm and pushed him back up. She didn’t undo her own seat belt for fear of suffering the same fate.

“Lady,” the captain mumbled. He blushed and waddled back to his seat, his fingers turning white as he clutched at it.

“Entering the nebula in thirty seconds,” Loran, Kipso’s second-in-command reported, her voice wobbling with obvious relief. She met Yoma’s eyes for half a second, gave her a tentative smile and quickly turned around.

Yoma shook her head, not sure whether to laugh or cry. She was a bloody thief, had always been a bloody thief, and all their tall tales of royalty did nothing to change her plans to always be a bloody thief. Nothing in the world filled her like the thrill of the hunt, finding forbidden objects and claiming them as her own. It filled her the same way the sights and smells of flowers filled her twin. But she would endure the tall tales now, to ensure that Layela remained far behind her, safe.

“Captain,” Loran whispered as the first wisps of the purple beast stroked the Victory’s hull. The metal of the ship shuddered in response. “Other ships arriving on the starboard side. Solarian, sir. About thirty more.”

Yoma sat up in her chair and Kipso exhaled loudly.

“Just take us through, Loran. Where we go, they won’t be able to follow.”

“Sir, the Destiny is badly damaged. She looks dead in the water.”

Kipso hesitated for a second. “Keep us on course, Loran.”

Yoma tried to jump to her feet, the belt pulling her back. “Bloody Rankok Rot!” She swore as she unclasped it, her eyes locked on Gobran. He whirled around, wide-eyed at the profanity.

“You can’t leave them!” Yoma jumped up and approached Gobran, her abdomen almost touching his. She looked up at him, squaring her shoulders, placing her right foot back. Her fists clenched. She prepared to do whatever was necessary to stop them.

Without revealing that her sister still lived.

“You can’t leave the Destiny and the others!” Yoma continued when no answer came. “Those are too many ships for them to handle! They’re already being slaughtered!”

Kipso’s dark eyes looked back into hers without flinching. They narrowed — not with anger, but with deep sadness. “I have no choice, Lady Layela.”

Layela! Everything she had done was to spare her. Everything. And now she had left her to die on a ship.

“You can’t.” To her surprise, her voice cracked.

“Entering the nebula,” Loran whispered. The ship rocked and Yoma took a deep breath. Layela!

Fresh air pummelled into her and she fell to her knees, blades of grass prickling her hands.

“Yoma,” she heard the voice beside her say, and she was standing again. Layela smiled beside her as they walked on a bridge.

Blood.

“Layela! Lady Layela!” Yoma’s consciousness flew back to her body, to the present, but still she could not shake the feeling of the warm blood on her hands, and the sight of her sister’s eyes.

She opened her own, the last of her vision washed away by the worry in Gobran’s eyes. He cradled her in his arms.

Great. She struggled to sit up on her own, a few other crewmembers looking wide-eyed at her. Her visions had picked the worst possible time to re-surface.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled.

“Was it a vision, Lady?” Gobran asked, his voice filled with awe and a hint of joy. Yoma raised her eyes and looked at him. Before she could answer, he filled the silence. “The queen has always had visions and powers. Now that we come closer to Mirial, now that we are within her great shields, your powers should become full.”

“Great,” Yoma muttered. Gobran helped her to stand and led her to his captain’s chair. “I already have enough problems with this power,” she joked as she sat gratefully. This was much better than having to keep going through the visions while out on a caper.

“Tell me, Lady,” Gobran kneeled beside her, his eyes hungry for answers. Everyone on the bridge held their breath as he voiced the question on all of their minds. “Will Mirial be saved?”

Yoma looked towards the sky and its thickness. She felt drawn towards its centre, where she now knew her true home dwelt. She felt Mirial calling to her and she yearned to respond, her hands wanting to reach out and grab the star, her feet wanting to run towards it, her soul yearning to break free of her body to join it.

She held the arms of the captain’s chair, pressing her hands hard against them until the edges bit into her flesh and the pain interrupted the longings.

“She will live, Gobran Kipso,” Yoma replied in a voice that didn’t even feel like hers, that sounded older to her than her own.