Forged in Shadow Page 13

She was tough, even in her vulnerable state.

  As they ran on, the air became thin again. Rykal pushed through, hoping it would improve, but with each step, breathing became more difficult.

  Even he was beginning to struggle.

  Arin’s chest muscles were working hard. Her body was trying to suck in every single molecule of oxygen that it could get. She was in a bad way.

  The air was moving towards the first docking bay. Something was sucking out the oxygen. Rykal suspected a hull breach, exposing the ship to the vacuum of space.

  He couldn’t take her into a vacuum.

  They were trapped. Rykal could run through the thin air and survive, but he wasn’t sure about Arin.

  Rykal cursed his physical enhancements, wishing he could give some of his strength to Arin. If he could swap places with her right now, he would.

  “Cut through,” she wheezed, sniffing hard. She pointed towards the wall as they returned to a place where the air wasn’t so bad. Rykal gently set her down. She nodded towards the wall. “You can do that, can’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Rykal drew his sword and plunged it into the thick metal of the corridor’s wall. His Callidum blade was as true as ever. A blade made from the strongest known substance in the Universe could cut through anything if there was enough power behind it.

  Rykal carved an oval-shaped hole in the wall, grunting as he put all his strength into it. When he met resistance, he let out a furious cry of exertion and pushed harder, his side burning.

  Finally, the wall gave. He delivered a savage kick to the cut segment and it clattered to the floor.

  Rykal was by Arin’s side in a flash, sheathing his blade and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her through to the other side.

  He didn’t know what existed on the other side of the wall.

  He prayed to the Goddess for good, clean, abundant air.

  It was dark in here, wherever they were. He picked Arin up and ran as far away from the suffocating corridor as possible.

  Normally, she might make a smartass quip or grumble to him about something right now, but the fight had gone out of her. She was breathing fast, her eyes wide, her body limp in his arms, as if all the life had been sucked out of it.

  “They’re calling for me,” she said weakly as the comm device in her ear buzzed faintly with the sound of Human speech. “The last retrieval is about to take off.”

  As they hit a pocket of clean air, she started to gulp it in, taking deep breaths. “There’s no way we’d make it back there,” she gasped. “I’m going to have to let them take off.”

  “The Arawen’s waiting for us in the third docking bay,” Rykal reminded her, setting her down gently. To his relief, her respiratory rate was slowing and her skin was fading to its usual color, although her nose was still red, and she was sniffling terribly. “We can’t go back into the corridor. I won’t risk you.” He ran his fingers through her soft golden hair.

  “I usually have a pretty good sense of direction,” she said, her voice raspy, “but I have no idea where we are right now.” She reached out and flicked on the small light-thing at her wrist.

  Her eyes grew distant as her comm buzzed. “The last Human transport is leaving. They had no choice. The gas leak, or whatever it is, has spread to Docking Bay One.”

  “This is my fault,” Rykal growled, bitterness creeping into his voice. “I shouldn’t have delayed you.” Those small, stolen moments; that kiss, however delicious it may have been, they were now coming back to haunt him. Those precious few sivs could now mean the difference between life and death for Arin.

  Rykal had never had the responsibility of looking after another before, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow failing her.

  Giving in to his impulses. Lack of self-control. Those were his weaknesses.

  Arin took a deep breath and slapped him gently on the underside of the head. Rykal wished she’d hit him harder. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty, soldier, but it won’t help you now. Instead of beating yourself up prematurely, find us a way out of here.”

  Rykal raised his hand in a mock-salute. “Yes, Ma’am.” His response made her smile. Her strength was returning, and that energized him. He looked around, gauging their surroundings.

  They were in another docking bay, this one dark and disused.

  “Rykal, the airlock’s open.” Torin spoke over the comm “We can’t wait much longer. It’s going to close soon.”

  “I’m coming. Just give me a siv to figure this out.” If he were on his own, he’d don his helm and run through the poisonous corridor. He’d reach the third dock with ease.

  But he couldn’t, wouldn’t leave Arin. Not now, not ever.

  “We’re moving into the airlock now,” Torin informed him. “We’ll wait as long as we can. But if this thing closes, the best we can do is loop back and find another retrieval point.”

  Voices filtered to Rykal from beyond the walls. He shook his head.

  Voices?

  The freighter was supposed to be deserted, but they were definitely Human voices.

  “There are Humans coming this way,” he said to Arin.

  She stared at him as if he were hearing things. “Voices? I don’t hear anything.”

  “Shh.” Rykal pulled her against him, listening carefully. The voices were accompanied by footsteps. It was the sound of multiple booted feet hitting the polished floor. The intruders stopped at the place where he’d carved a hole in the wall.

  “Sergeant Arin Varga,” a Human female yelled, “are you in there?”

  Arin switched off her guide-light and looked up at Rykal. “Looks like mother’s sent a search-and-rescue team,” she whispered.

  “Mother?” Rykal’s ears twitched in surprise.

  “It’s a long story. Listen, I’d better go with them. It’s best if you join your people. I don’t think a warship full of Human peacekeepers would be the best place for you, but I need to be there to explain the situation.” She caressed the side of his face, her gaze full of tender longing.

  Rykal understood perfectly. He could make it down to the third docking bay, but her fragile body might not survive. He would have to leave her here. His instincts railed against it, but he had no choice.

  First and foremost, she had to survive.

  “I want you so badly,” he growled. “I don’t want to give you to anyone.”

  “Soon,” Arin murmured. “First, let’s get off this junk-heap before we suffocate to death.”

  “Varga?” The voice called out again, sounding slightly distorted.

  “I’m here,” Arin yelled back. The footsteps grew louder. She squeezed Rykal’s hand. “Disappear, my love.”

  Rykal reluctantly disengaged from her, his fingers sliding out of hers. “I’ll come for you,” he whispered, before fading into the shadows beyond the radius of her small blue light.

  Human soldiers filed through the hole in the wall. Rykal retreated into a corner, watching. After what had happened on Fortuna Tau, he didn’t trust Humans in the slightest, and he needed to make sure Arin was safe before he left her.

  He counted six in total; all of them carried bolt-rifles and wore respirators that obscured their faces. Their eyes were hidden behind glowing green lenses; presumably, these devices helped them see in the dark.

  “Sergeant Varga, I’m Captain Ross, of the FSS Melia’s elite tactical squad. We’ve come to get you out of here on General Varga’s orders. There seems to be a serious oxygen leak on this freighter. The entire vessel is compromised. We need to go, now.”

  One of the other soldiers stepped forward and handed Arin a breathing apparatus. “Let’s go, Sergeant.”

  “Where’s the Kordolian?” Ross demanded, as Arin donned her respirator.

  Her eyes widened in a perfect expression of innocence. She was magnificently deceptive. “What Kordolian?”

  “We were told there was a Kordolian warrior with you. Some of your peacekeepers were concerned he might try to harm you.”


  Arin shrugged. “That was a while ago. He disappeared somewhere. I have no idea where. You expect me to keep tabs on aliens now?”

  “Huh.” Ross stared at the hole in the wall and hesitated. Then she turned, pointing with her gun. “Let’s get out of here. The pilot’s getting edgy. Doesn’t want to risk another Xargek attack.”

  Relieved that Arin was amongst friendlies, Rykal waited until the last of the Human soldiers had disappeared through the hole in the wall.

  “Rykal.” This time it was Kail who came on the line. “If you don’t get your shiny silver ass down here right now, you’re going to be in for a world of pain. Stop fucking around with your precious Humans. We’re leaving. Now!”

  The laconic Kail rarely ever got so riled up. That meant he was tense. That meant the situation was serious.

  Rykal had a tiny window during which he could make it to their ship, otherwise he’d be stuck on a disintegrating freighter with Xargek, oxygen leaks, and noxious gases until they could figure out a way to retrieve him.

  It didn’t bother him. He’d dealt with worse. He’d gladly take on a Xargek horde if it meant Arin was safe.

  But it would be a pain-in-the-ass if he got stuck here.

  He decided to make a run for it. “I’m on my way,” he said to Kail as he activated his full armor. His body was fully healed now, and the nanites swarmed onto his skin without resistance. His helm would protect him from the toxic vapor in the corridor. “But if you’re out of time and you have to go, just go. I’ll figure shit out.”

  Kail signed off with an irritated grunt. Rykal put his head down and dashed through the deserted dock, exiting through the hole he’d made. He sped through the corridor in the opposite direction to the Humans, heading for the third docking bay.

  Raised voices drifted after him; the Human soldiers were yelling something in their language.

  Someone must have spotted him. Whatever. They couldn’t hurt him.

  As Rykal pushed through the chemical smog, a flash lit up the darkness. He glanced over his shoulder. One of the Humans had fucking shot at him.

  There was a spark, and then the world around him turned into fire.

  No!

  Rykal stopped, turned, and ran faster than he’d ever run in his life.

  Chapter Twenty

  The sound hit Arin first. It was a dull, muffled rumble crescendoing to a roar. A wave of pressure followed, a solid mass of moving air that hit her in the back.

  She looked over her shoulder and saw a mass of flame. The air was igniting, billowing out in a burning orange cloud.

  It was strangely mesmerizing.

  Searing heat slapped her in the face, and as Arin looked into the inferno, time slowed to a crawl.

  She became aware of the harsh sound of her rasping breath through the crude filter of her respirator.

  She became aware of her heartbeat, of her pulse thudding loudly in her ears as she tried to run, but her feet were frozen to the ground; no, actually, it wasn’t that she was frozen, it was just that she was too fucking slow for what needed to happen next.

  Arin was wading through molasses, but the flames were moving in real-time.

  Perhaps this exquisite hyper-awareness was what happened just before death. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t panicked. She wasn’t falling into the pits of despair. All she saw were the beautiful, hypnotizing red-and-orange flames rolling towards her.

  Painful longing filled her, sharp and bittersweet. She would never get to see Rykal again. They’d found something incredible amongst the stars, something she’d never have thought would be possible between his kind and her, a Human.

  She’d wanted to explore this unnamed thing further, teasing it out until it opened like a flower, unfurling from bud to blossom.

  But now, death was before her, and she was about to be swallowed into the afterlife.

  Rykal.

  At least she could die thinking of what might have been.

  All around her, people were screaming and turning to run, having also been bitten by the slow-motion bug.

  It was hot and noisy, and all she could see were the blinding flames. Heat seared the sensitive skin of her face as a black blur shot out from the flames, and Arin was swept up into the arms of something dark and impossibly fast.

  Rykal.

  The inferno was at his back, nipping at his heels, chasing them with savage hunger, but Rykal was always one step ahead, moving so fast that he seemed more machine than Kordolian. His legs pumped, his arms flexed, his chest heaved, and they shot down the corridor until they reached a place where the air was thin. Deprived of oxygen, the rolling, raging inferno started to lose momentum.

  Rykal’s features were concealed beneath his menacing black visor, but Arin could hear him gasping. Still, he ran, not once slowing his pace, never faltering as he took them farther and farther away from certain death.

  There was wind in the tunnel now, which was strange, considering the freighter was a closed environment. The temperature dropped quickly as they escaped the fire, going from searing hot to icy cold in just a few strides. The flames dissipated as the air became thinner, eventually disappearing, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured on them.

  There was no oxygen here, but at least the lights worked. They flickered as Rykal shot past.

  Still Rykal ran. He was truly inhuman, with a body made from the stuff of nightmares and a face made for carnal sin. Only he had the audacity to snatch her from the jaws of fate.

  Once the threat had well and truly disappeared, he stopped, looking back and forth down the corridor.

  Arin pressed her hand against his chest as he set her down.

  No movement.

  He wasn’t breathing at all.

  And here she was, comfortably sitting in his arms with sweet oxygen streaming into her lungs. Arin pulled off her respirator and held it out to him. “Don’t forget to breathe,” she said softly.

  Rykal looked down at her through his visor. She no longer thought he looked terrifying in his full armor. He was just… Rykal.

  Slowly, his faceless black helmet melted away, revealing his strained features. Faint tendrils of smoke rose from this black armor, teased out by the frigid air. His dark lips were pressed together in a thin line, and there were shadows under this eyes.

  “Breathe,” Arin said again, holding her breath as Rykal took the precious oxygen source from her hands and held it to his face, inhaling deeply. The respirator was connected to a condenser unit that Arin had strapped to her body.

  Relief flooded through her as she watched him take life-sustaining air.

  “That gas in the corridor was highly flammable,” he said, his eyes widening as he took in her appearance. He brought his hand up to the side of her face and caressed her cheek with his fingers. To Arin’s surprise, they were bare, but even though his touch was gentle, it stung like hell. She flinched.

  He handed the respirator back to her. “That’s all I need for now.”

  Arin was already craving air. She couldn’t hold her breath for all that long. She held it to her face and inhaled deeply. “You’re hurt,” he said gently, withdrawing his fingers form her face.

  Arin winced. “A few superficial burns, that’s all.” She closed her eyes as a horrible realization hit her. “But the others are dead, aren’t they?”

  At first, Rykal’s expression bordered on callous. Anger flickered in his golden eyes, but it dimmed as he looked at Arin. “I am sorry,” he said finally.

  Arin dropped her face into her hands and let out a cry of frustration. This was the very thing she’d been so desperate to avoid. Too many had already been lost, and now these soldiers’ lives had been claimed by the disintegrating freighter.

  They’d been sent to rescue her, and she couldn’t help but feel responsible for their deaths.

  Something gentle dropped onto her shoulder.

  Rykal’s hand. “We have to go,” he said slowly, and it was the sound of his voice that forced her to
pull herself together.

  She knew he didn’t care much about the dead Humans, but at least he’d made the effort to acknowledge her sadness. He would never be Human, but he’d shown he was capable of learning empathy.

  “Now, how do we leave this place, Sergeant? The environment is volatile, and I don’t want you to remain here any longer.”

  A series of dull booms shook the freighter, shaking the walls and floor. Overhead pipes rattled, and there was a great groan as the freighter listed slightly to one side.

  Rykal wrapped his arms around her as the floor tilted diagonally, preventing her from falling

  “The fire must have ignited the gas in the pipes.” Cold dread filled her. This thing was indeed a floating death-trap. She thought hard and fast. Her rescue team had probably come in on a small, fast craft. But they wouldn’t have been able to enter any of the docking bays without someone in navigation operating the airlocks. That was the standard security setup for a freighter like this.

  “I’m guessing there’s a getaway craft hovering somewhere outside.” The logistics of getting onto such a vessel would be tricky. First, they would have to convince the pilot to let them on. Then, they would have to attempt a quick space-transfer. Without the proper equipment, the wrong move could send her careening off into space. Maneuvering in zero Gs was always risky.

  Rykal inclined his head, a strange expression on his face. After a while, Arin realized someone was communicating with him. He seemed to have some sort of hidden comm device - an implant maybe - that allowed him to communicate with his comrades at will. Rykal replied tersely in Kordolian, and Arin found the strange, lyrical sounds of his native language incredibly sexy as they dropped from his lips.

  Shit. She shouldn’t be thinking about such things at a time like this.

  “My people are coming back to get us,” he informed her. “I believe the first docking bay’s airlock failed to close properly. We will go down there and wait.”

  Arin nodded, studying him carefully. Even though he acted normally and spoke normally, he wasn’t breathing at all. His chest was perfectly still. It was slightly unnerving. He was like a living silver statue, carved from unbreakable stone. She removed the respirator from her face and handed it to him. “Don’t forget to breathe.”