Revenants Rising Page 5

  "I had only recently met Joshua. We never had time to become friends." Rell chose her words carefully. The last thing she wanted was to fill Dr. Anderson's head with nonsense about the Key and the Menelewen Dored.

  "That's basically what he said about you, too."

  Rell bit back a sigh of relief. She would have to thank Joshua for keeping her secret the next time she saw him. Though it wasn't a total surprise. Joshua had said once before he would serve her as the Key. Perhaps that also meant he could be discrete. If so, he might prove to be a better friend than she imagined.

  "Do you want to talk about Phoenix yet?" Dr. Anderson asked. "It's good for you to let your feelings out. And, just so we're clear, anything you say here will be held in confidence. I'm simply here to help you recover from what has been a truly traumatic chain of events."

  Rell didn't like talking about her feelings. The majority of her life, she'd kept them bottled inside, tucked away from her thoughts. It had worked, too, until she met Torsten and her entire life began to unravel.

  Tears sprang up at the corners of her eyes. Rell sniffled, attempting to hold them back.

  "It's okay." Dr. Anderson rested a gentle hand on Rell's knee. "You're safe here."

  "I can't believe they're all gone." The tears streamed down Rell's cheeks. "Torsten. Malia. Rutger. They were so kind to me, though they barely knew me. They trusted me, and I let them down."

  "How did you let them down? It's not your fault the dragzhi went after that planet."

  "Yes, it is." Rell sucked in a shuddering breath, her chest aching with pain. "If I hadn't been injured, if I would have been well enough to fight, I could have helped them stand against the dragzhi. We might have won. They might still be alive."

  "Not to diminish your strength, but Rell, what could you, one woman, do against an entire fleet of dragzhi? You have what we call survivor's guilt. You couldn't have changed the outcome." Dr. Anderson put her fingertips under Rell's chin, gently lifting until Rell looked her in the eyes. "This isn't your fault."

  Rell jerked away and sprang out of the chair. She paced the room, realizing just how small it was when she had to turn around after only fifteen paces. If she'd been on Phoenix, she could have convinced the fire dragzhi to rise from the underground as they had before. They could have fought off the dragzhi from space, or brokered peace with them. There was a chance it would have worked. A chance Torsten would still be alive.

  Rell stared at the doctor. "You don't understand." And how could she? They didn't know Rell was anything other than human, just like them. She thought of Cordan. Was he so different from her?

  "Help me understand." Dr. Anderson's eyes were wide as she waited for an answer.

  Rell sank into the chair again. "I can't. You're right. It's just survivor's guilt." The lie hurt. Rell wanted, no needed, to take the blame. Deep inside she knew things might be different had she been with her friends, instead of stuck on the dragzhi med ship. They had studied her, and by their own admission had tried to kill her. She refused to be another experiment, this time for Earth United. She would keep her secret and hope Joshua would continue to keep it, too.

  "I think that's probably enough for now. Would you like to freshen up? I can walk you to the common room. You can meet some of the other passengers. Not everyone here is a military grunt. We also have scientists. Explorers. Archaeologists. I bet you'll find someone out there who would make a good friend. Not a replacement for the friends you lost, but a new friend to help you in this new life you're beginning."

  Rell stood again. "Thank you. I think I will." She went into the bathroom, letting the door close behind her.

  Splashing her face with cold water, Rell avoided looking at the bags under her eyes. She could feel them hanging, the weight pulling her lids down. She took a deep breath. Even if she had regrets that would never fade, Rell knew Dr. Anderson was right. She would have to meet new people. She would have to learn to live again.

  Leaving the bathroom behind, Rell walked with Dr. Anderson to a common room. Chairs were spread through the room, tables sprinkled among them. Books sat on shelves lining one long wall. Music played lightly in the background.

  In the corner sat the man Rell had seen watching her in the mess. Ignoring him, she turned to Dr. Anderson. "Thank you."

  "Of course. Relax. Speak to the others. Choose a book to read from our library. I know you'll find some peace in these walls." Dr. Anderson patted Rell's shoulder, then left her standing alone in the doorway.

  Rell took a deep breath, then walked all the way in the room. She chose a random book off the shelf and sat in a chair. She opened the book, the words all a jumble. She knew enough to know she was looking at English, though she’d never been taught to read. Torsten had given her a few reading lessons when she came to live in the tower, but there never seemed to be enough time to truly pursue a deep understanding.

  "Hi," a voice said over her shoulder.

  Rell turned, not surprised to see the man with the shaved head standing behind her. "Hi," she answered.

  He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "It's all a lie. You can't trust any of them."

  "Who?" she asked.

  "The doctor. The admiral. None of them. They're lying to you." He stood up, looking around the room with wild eyes. "Meet me tonight. I'll program Cordan to take you. I can explain everything."

  Before she could question him, or determine his sanity, the man stalked out of the room, leaving Rell alone and more confused than ever.

  12

  Torsten pushed aside the flap as the screeching quieted. There was no point in staying in the tent. The tark weren't just going to go away, and there was nowhere for Torsten and his friends to hide.

  It was best to face the tark head on.

  Malia clicked off the safety on her shotgun. It was the only sound in the silence.

  "Don't," Torsten said over his shoulder. "We walk out unarmed."

  "No," Malia leveled her shotgun.

  "If we leave this tent with our weapons pointed at them, they'll take it as an act of aggression. They'll kill us before we even have a chance to see what they want." Torsten pushed the barrel of her shotgun down. "Please."

  Malia lowered it but kept hold. "I refuse to set it down. I won't walk out there without a way to defend myself."

  "Fair enough." Torsten then glanced at Chuck. "Keep your mouth shut."

  Chuck pulled his fingers across his lips like a zipper.

  "Yeah, like that'll last." Rutger rolled his eyes.

  "You, too," Torsten said, glaring at his friend. The two brothers weren't so different, but Rutger usually knew when to quit. He trusted him to stay silent now. Chuck was still a wild card.

  "I'll go first." Leila stormed out the opening before Torsten could say anything.

  Torsten followed quickly, annoyed with his little sister. Even now she had to be the first to go out. Was it possible for her to ever let Torsten handle anything?

  His annoyance quickly turned to awe at the bronze barge towering over their tent. It stood at least ten stories high, glinting in the hot sun of mid-afternoon. Torsten shielded his eyes as he stretched his neck. Though he'd seen another barge like it at a distance, standing next to one was a completely different experience.

  "Is this what you rode in when you left the tower?" Torsten asked Leila.

  "I don't remember. They did something to our minds, made us pliable to their suggestions. By the time I woke up in the caves, I had forgotten everything. Ugh. I'm covered in sand again." Leila wiped her hands on her pants, getting more sand on her than less. "I hate the desert."

  "You seemed to do well in it."

  Torsten and Leila looked up to where the voice had come from. A doll, no, a tark floated down to them, stopping in midair so it could look them in the eyes. Torsten fought the urge to reach out and touch it. Just like the tark the little girl, Isobel, had carried, it looked like a porcelain doll. Not a living being. Certainly not something that could command such a la
rge barge and raise human bodies from the dead to do its bidding.

  "Where is Rell?" The tark cocked its head to the side as it peered over their shoulders toward the tent. "She was not with the others in the tower. She must be with you."

  "Rell's dead." Torsten's words were high-pitched. He cleared his throat.

  "Who killed her?" The tark's eyes changed from obsidian to scarlet, burning with anger.

  "The dragzhi," Leila said before Torsten could answer.

  He couldn't help but wonder if Leila feared he'd tell the tark it was her fault. In some ways, it was, though he'd never blame her out loud.

  The tark turned its eyes to Torsten for confirmation.

  "It's true. There was a dragzhi inhabiting her body."

  "We know about the liquid dragzhi. We tried to take it from her. We wanted to liberate her from its clutches, but Rell rebelled. She changed into a bastardized form of the united dragzhi and ran away." The tark's tone sank deeper. "She made us promise to help the dragzhi when they come to Setion, this planet you stupid humans call Phoenix. We said we would. But we lied. We will never help the liquid dragzhi. Never."

  Torsten wanted to believe it. He would give anything to find out the tark were their allies, not their enemies.

  "Why did you take our people?" Torsten asked.

  "We wanted Rell. We wanted to save her from the evil liquid dragzhi. And if there were any others who were similarly infected, we would save them, too." The tark's eyes changed back to a vacant obsidian.

  "None of us were infected," Leila said, spitting out the last word.

  "We discovered that after many... mishaps." The tark backed away slightly.

  "Mishaps?" Torsten asked. "What does that mean?"

  "We had to test them." The tark raised its hands in the air as it backed away farther. "We had to know. Some of them may have perished during the testing."

  "Some?" Torsten felt sick to his stomach. "How many?"

  "I cannot count that high." The tark floated away, just out of arm's reach.

  It took everything in Torsten not to grab it by the throat and squeeze. Though he wasn't sure if the tark even breathed.

  "How many are left? Can you count that high?" Leila took a step toward the tark, her hands balled into fists.

  "There are two," it said.

  13

  Torsten looked at his sister. She was alive, still. She was one. Who was the other?

  "No." Leila choked on the word. "It can't be. There were so many. We saved them all after the dragzhi attacked. For what? Nothing!"

  "We saved their bodies. They will serve beyond the grave. We will use them. It will be as if they never died." The tark's eyes shone a bright yellow now, as if full of hope.

  Except there was no hope in what it offered. Not for Torsten and his friends. All their companions—gone.

  "Where is the other person? Who is it?" Torsten asked.

  "The other is older. Not like you, but we saved him for the same reason we saved her." The tark leveled one stiff finger at Leila.

  Torsten's eyes bore into his sister.

  "I knew Rell. That's why they kept me alive. Who else knew her as well as we did?" Leila said. "There wasn't anyone. The tark is mistaken."

  Torsten shook his head. "No. There is another." He looked back at Malia, her eyes wide.

  "Tatsuru," she said.

  "Not that guy," Rutger said. "He's not exactly the type of person we need right now. What about an engineer or a fighter? Instead, we have an innkeeper?"

  Torsten hated admitting it, but Rutger was right. Tatsuru was an old man. He wasn't hardy, and he probably couldn't survive the trek back through the desert. He'd slow them down. Still, Tatsuru had believed in Rell without question. He was loyal, and he knew a trick or about surviving in the harsh conditions of Phoenix.

  "We want him," Torsten said as he turned back to the tark. "Now you know Rell is dead, you have no more need of us. Let us go. Let us live out our lives back at the tower." Earth United had promised to come back for them, but the tark didn't need to know that. As far as Torsten was concerned, the tark could assume they were going home, never to bother them again.

  "You may have him, but only after," the tark said, floating toward them again, its eyes red again.

  "After what?" Torsten asked.

  "After I confirm your story. Get in the barge. Now. We will travel to a place that holds the truth about Rell." The tark waved an arm toward the barge as a door opened in the hull. "By the way, you may call me Denestra.”

  "I don't like this," Malia said from behind Torsten.

  "I hate it," Rutger said.

  "What choice do we have?" Torsten walked toward the doorway, then stepped inside. Leila entered behind him, followed by Malia, Rutger, and Chuck, whose lips were still pressed together in silence just as Torsten had asked. The man had changed. Fear shone in his eyes. For once, Torsten knew he probably agreed with what was going through Chuck's mind.

  14

  It didn't take Chuck long to return to himself.

  "So if we're the only humans left on Phoenix, and Rutger is with Malia, then that means you're with me, baby." Chuck winked at Leila, leering.

  Leila hauled off, punching Chuck square in the jaw before Torsten could even jump to his sister's defense. Chuck's eyes rolled back, and he slumped against the wall.

  "I think he'll be quiet for a while. Now, what's our plan?" Leila crossed her arms over her chest, not even taking a moment to shake out her fist.

  "Where are they taking us?" Malia asked. "I think that's the first thing we ought to figure out. We're at the mercy of the tark right now, but once we stop and get out of this thing, maybe we’ll have a chance. Do you know how to kill one?"

  Leila shook her head. "Even if I'd had the opportunity, I was always surrounded by more than one of them. Except for the first time I woke up in the room with Andessa. She was animated and holding one of the tark. I thought it was a doll, but I was even more confused because I thought she had died. I had no idea..."

  Torsten reached out an arm, and Leila snuggled into him. He was glad she still needed him, even if the moments were few and far between. As fast as she'd come to him, she pulled away.

  "Torsten," she said, her eyes steely, "I'm sorry for what I did to Rell. I thought she was against all of us. I thought all the bad things that happened were tricks. I genuinely believed I was protecting you from someone who would eventually get you killed."

  His instinct was to tell Leila it was okay, and that he still loved her, but for some reason he couldn't get the words out. Instead, he pursed his lips and nodded once in acknowledgment.

  "So what do we do?" Rutger asked, cutting into the awkward silence. "Should we attack Denestra as soon as we get out of here?” He patted the knives on his belt.

  "No, let's see where we land. If it's inhospitable, we'd just be stranded." Torsten thought regretfully of the tent they'd been forced to leave behind, along with its food and water. "We need to evaluate the situation first."

  "I will happily take that thing captive," Malia said. "Maybe I can force it to talk."

  "Once we know if we're safe, I think you should." Torsten knew Malia was the best one for the job, despite the pout on Leila's face. "Just don't kill Denestra, in case we need it to drive this barge somewhere else."

  A crackle interrupted their conversation, and Denestra spoke to them over a rusty old intercom box on the wall. "I can hear everything you're saying. I'm sad you want to control me and possibly hurt me. I could have killed all of you back at the tent. Instead, I chose to spare your pathetic human lives. You are worth much more to me dead than you are alive."

  The box crackled again and then went silent.

  Torsten rubbed the back of his neck, frustrated. He hadn't even considered Denestra might be listening. And why not? This was the tark's barge. He should have expected it.

  Malia slid down the wall to the floor. Rutger sat next to her, slinging an arm around her shoulder. She rested her he
ad on his, her eyes closed.

  It was moments like this when Torsten longed most for Rell. He needed her comforting smile or her ability to calm him, even when she wasn't trying. Her presence was enough. But she was gone now, and everything seemed to remind him of it. Someday he would move on.

  If he survived the tark.

  It didn't matter where Denestra was taking them. It would learn what Torsten had said was true. Rell was dead. The tark could roam Phoenix for eternity, and it would never find a different answer.

  If Torsten hadn't seen her body for himself, he, too, would have continued to search. Giving up wouldn't have been an option. But he'd touched her cold, lifeless hand. Nothing could change the truth, though he wished he could trade anyone, anything, to see her alive and well again.

  The barge suddenly slowed to a grinding halt. Torsten braced himself against the wall, smearing a smattering of rust on his palm. The door to the room creaked open. Torsten stepped out the doorway, climbed down a nearby ladder, and landed on the floor of the level below. Denestra floated in the air, its eyes red, as it waited.

  "I do not appreciate your plans," it said.

  "You've proven to be far smarter than us," Torsten said, trying to appease it as the others made their way down the ladder. Chuck brought up the rear, once more conscious and quiet, a bruise blooming on his jaw. "We'll do as you say."

  The tark led them down a dark hallway until they reached a hatch. With a wave of its hand, the tark commanded the hatch to open. To Torsten's surprise, he recognized their destination. The barge stood just outside the old church on the edge of Hadar.

  "What are we doing here?" He'd forgotten all about the buried, who probably still lived somewhere in the vicinity. Rell had tried to bring them to the tower for safety, but when Leila rebuked them, they scattered, likely disappearing underground again.

  Torsten hadn't seen them since that night. The night Leila shot Rell.

  His stomach clenched in anger. He knew how the buried had treated Rell. Despite Rell being one of their own, they spurned her at every turn. Even that damned Joshua, who claimed he served the Key, only cared about his gods, the Menelewen Dored. They'd done nothing for her.