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

tilted sideways, tumbling once or twice. Blinded by her hair, she closed her eyes and tried to keep her feet on the floor. She heard the crush of synthetic glass and then silence.

Through some miracle, the shuttle had landed upright. Josmere appeared to be unconscious but still well strapped in her seat. Green blood dripped onto the seat belt. Layela looked up front and met eyes with Ardin, who was turning to check on them both. The side of his face was covered in blood, but he was still grinning. “Touch down.”

i

Josmere felt the warmth of the fire on her skin, but it penetrated no deeper than that. She was cold. So cold.

When they had first pierced the purple sky and seen the sun of Mirial, she had realized that it would be the last true light she would ever see. This fire, whose light flickered through her closed eyelids, was nothing compared to its intensity.

Layela and Ardin spoke softly in the background, and she could only make out a few of their words. They were excited over their upcoming adventure, discussing plans to reach a nearby city, which Ardin swore he remembered, and Layela teased him about the lake. Josmere was glad. It had been a long time since she had heard such a wonderful tone in her friend’s voice.

And last night, Josmere had been happy to see the look the two had shared when Layela had parted from Ardin to come sleep with Josmere and keep her warm. Most of the shuttle’s supplies were unsalvageable after the crash, but Layela had kept her warm throughout the night with her own heat.

And Josmere had loved her even more for that.

“Are you ready to go?” Layela knelt beside Josmere. I guess my thief’s breaths are no longer what they used to be, Josmere mused. She opened her eyes only to see the worry in Layela’s.

Josmere smiled at her.

“I’m not coming.”

Layela’s look suggested that she had expected the Berganda’s response and wanted no argument.

Josmere laughed, but pain flared from her belly and turned her smile to a wince.

“Layela,” she whispered when she found her voice again. Layela leaned closer, her eyes wide and richer than the dark sky. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust your strength. I’m sorry I didn’t believe in you, and I’m sorry I kept so much from you.”

Layela’s eyes clouded with tears. Josmere knew the last few days had pushed Layela close to her furthest edge. The one she had barely returned from, years ago.

Josmere took a deep breath. She didn’t want Layela to leave with the horrible burden of guilt. “I stayed to protect you, well, because I didn’t think you’d get me so banged up,” she grinned. “But, also, because I love you like a sister. You and Yoma.”

Tears were falling down Layela’s face. She had accepted Josmere’s lie about the severity of her wound, but the lie was crumbling now with each new word. Josmere blinked back some of her own tears. In the background, she could see Ardin’s profile, his head lowered. She was glad she had the chance to know him. It made her feel better about leaving Layela in his care.

It was time for her to stop running. She clutched the ground beneath her with her hands, her tears now falling from joy. It was so fertile it made her body ache and her blood sing in tune with it. Where only a year ago she had felt the life-giving properties of her blood wither and die, a piece of her own self vanishing with them, she could now feel a dance of joy in her blood, so strong it energized her very soul. Her body ached in anticipation, her fingers tingling and electricity running through to the tips of her hair.

The mystical planet renewed her ether. She could feel its power begin to heal her wound slowly, but maybe fast enough...She hurled the thought from her mind, clutched the strong earth beneath her in her still-weak grasp, and let the ether wash over her with its only important truth. A bit of her blood would certainly sprout a new Berganda.

All of it would save her race.

“Layela, I need you to be strong for me one last time.” Josmere brought her hand up to Layela and let the dirt caress her fingers as it escaped her fist. Layela reached up and caught some of it.

Josmere gave her a thin smile. Realization suddenly dawned in Layela’s eyes, as Josmere had known it eventually would. She knew Layela would remember their time in the dead gardens on Thalos IV.

“Josmere, I…” she began, shaking her head vehemently. Her dark hair veiled her face.

“Please, Layela.” Josmere’s body ached from the wound, her blood urging to be free. She swallowed hard and steeled herself. “I’m dead anyway.” She paused and ignored the tingling at her wound where the ether was already beginning to heal her. The lie didn’t feel bitter on her lips. “I can’t heal myself and you know it. Let me die knowing I did my part for my people.” Josmere winced as pain shot up through her. She waited for a bit of her breath to return before she spoke again. “Please, Layela. My blood is only good while I live.” Please, before too much of me is healed, and not enough blood escapes. In case this is just temporary renewal of my ether. In case I lose this hope again.

She didn’t need to say what needed to be done. Layela understood, she was certain. Layela nodded and more tears rolled down her face. She rose and vanished from Josmere’s view. The Berganda closed her eyes and let the flickering fire grace her vision. She wished she could see the stars one more time, beyond the great purple beast. She wished she could see Yoma, and know she was safe.

A shadow came between her and the fire and she opened her eyes, smiling as Layela knelt beside her. She heard Ardin digging on the