The Martian King: The Slave Planet II Page 2

  They can hear Namic’s thoughts, which means that they know exactly what we’re about to do. They’ll be waiting for us as soon as we land.

  He turned again and looked into Namic’s darting eyes.

  Namic shook his head, the fear in the young man’s face clear. “We’ll never make it.”

  Etree sighed, making a point to turn away from Namic. He put his hands on his hips and dropped his head. “You’re probably right. We probably won’t make it.” He let the silence stretch. “We’ll just have to let the Zenithians take us into custody.”

  Without his blocker, the Zenithians would be able to read Namic’s thoughts. If Namic thought that they were going to allow themselves to be taken into custody, it would put the Zenithian guards at ease, buying the Martians and their ship more time.

  He turned back to Namic and adjusted Nadira’s weight around his waist.

  By Mars, she’s heavy.

  “We should have put wheels on the bag,” Namic said, beginning to pace.

  Etree looked out over the Zenithian landscape. The ground was quickly coming into view. Below them, dots of colors stood still. Waiting.

  The guards.

  “Get ready,” he said.

  Namic pulled a weapon from the inside of his robe, and bent his knees, ready to flee from the cloud.

  “Put your weapon away, idiot. And don’t forget the bag,” Etree hissed at him.

  Namic moved close to the bag, wrapping a strap around his wrist.

  The Zenithian guards surrounded the cloud as it touched down onto the dewy grass and dissipated.

  “Don’t move,” one red haired guard cried. “You are in our custody.” It stepped forward, its head barely making it to Etree’s chest.

  “Why are you detaining us?” Etree asked, keeping his voice even.

  “A Zenithian reported a kidnapping. We’ve heard your thoughts. We know what you’ve done to the Venians.”

  Etree did his best to keep his face emotionless. “Oh?”

  The three-eyed Zenithians held no weapons, but their hands were held out in front of them as if ready for an attack. Wooden plates were fastened across their chest.

  “You’re planning to transport them to Mars, although you do not know why. Now, step away from the bag. Once we have secured it, we will cut the bonds of the woman who is tied around your waist. You will then be taken to the holding cells.”

  “And then?”

  “Your ambassador and Embrya will decide what to do with you.”

  Etree heard Namic gasp. Avoiding his friend’s panicked gaze, he held up his hands.

  “Yes, alright. We will not resist. We just want to go home.”

  “Where you go is for the Magistrate to decide.”

  “The Magistrate is spoken of as being a compassionate ruler. We trust that she will understand that we are only common, uneducated and easily manipulated Martians. It would be in the best interest of all involved if she returns us to Mars where we can face justice and reform at the hands of our own people.”

  The Zenithian stayed on the alert.

  “Take the bag to the physician,” it said to the nearby creatures behind it. “Then release the woman, and take her to the physician as well.”

  Etree closed his eyes and let out a breath, counting down in his mind.

  Three. Two. One.

  The sky rumbled.

  Etree took a step toward Namic.

  A dented, aged, black ship noisily fell from the fog, made a sharp turn, and hovered just above the ground next to the Martians. The sound of a horn echoed through the valley, followed by a blast of wind.

  Right on time.

  The Zenithians froze, confused by the new threat.

  Etree and Namic pulled out their weapons, and fired, carving out an escape route through their captures.

  The Zenithians held up their hands to them, as if attempting to shoot them through their fingers. When nothing happened, they stared at their palms, and each other, in disbelief. Defenseless, they fluttered their wings in a confused retreat.

  The door to the dented ship opened, revealing another bearded man.

  Etree and Namic ran for the ship and boarded, ridding themselves of the large load as soon as they were past the doors.

  The ship fired its thrusters, catapulting itself high into the sky.

  Namic untied Nadira from around Etree’s waist, dropping her unconscious body to the ground between his legs.

  Moaning his relief, Etree leaned back to stretch his sore back.

  “Finally,” he groaned. “Put her over there by the other one.”

  Etree took a breath, then turned to find the bearded man staring at him.

  “What happened?” He asked. “This was supposed to be a covert operation.”

  The man’s beard was neatly trimmed, his brown hair slicked back. His dark eyes narrowed at them, frown lines forming on his smooth, tanned forehead.

  “We came upon some difficulties,” Etree said.

  “I noticed.”

  “We made it out.” Etree snatched off the fake beard that he’d glued on earlier, leaving a trail of white lines across his dark skin. The bearded man frowned as Etree began to casually pull off his sweat soaked robe.

  “Relax, Boikis. It worked out. We got what we needed. We’re out.”

  Etree sat down on a nearby crate and put his elbows on his knees.

  Boikis didn’t respond right away, only looked from Etree to Namic and rolled back his shoulders.

  “Get cleaned up, and get those two to the medic. We’ll be home soon.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Embrya’s ice blue eyes stared unseeing at the white walls opposite her throne.

  It’s all my fault.

  Her lids closed as she tried to focus, to think about her next move.

  As the Magistrate of one of the five sectors, it was her job to keep order, to keep her subjects safe.

  How can I do that when I can’t even keep myself safe?

  She shook her head, and looked down at her delicate, porcelain hands, currently balled into fist.

  I should have never trusted the Martians. If only we had destroyed the machine when we had the chance. Now it’s too late. They will come for us, for my people.

  She felt Heedon shift next to her. Her Keeper, the protector of the sector, and her partner in creation. Together they had created planets, stars and moons. Together they had formed a bond of love that time itself couldn’t break.

  Can he protect me from what’s to come?

  He moved his hand from the top of her throne to her shoulder.

  Heat radiated from his warm palm, calming her. She placed a hand on top of his and took in a shaky breath.

  “How bad is it?” He asked.

  She swallowed, her mouth suddenly feeling very dry.

  “The Martians have turned on us. They’ve sent two spies and a ship that kidnapped Nadira and Kiln. They’ve killed several of my people who tried to stop them.”

  “And no one saw it? No one sensed what they were about to do?”

  “They were wearing some sort of devices on their heads that stopped us from connecting with them. We couldn’t see their intentions.”

  Heedon let out a loud breath, gently squeezing her shoulder.

  “Martians,” he spat, following it up with a colorful Glorium swear.

  She knew that voice, heard the edge in it. She remembered how adamant he’d been about not allying with the Martians:

  “They’re trouble,” he said. “Let’s destroy the machine before they use it against us.”

  “They’ll never give up the machine without a fight.” Embrya said. “I don’t want a war.”

  “You won’t have a war, I will. Let my people protect you as we were purposed to do.”

  She lifted a hand to the soft, bright red beard that grew thick on this cheek. “No more fighting. Let me handle this my way. Let us be at peace.”

  “Martians don’t know peace.”

  “Then I will sh
ow it to them.”

  “That machine can counteract the dust. Do you understand what that means? Without the dust you have no power over this planet. That machine can destroy you and your people.”

  “Not if they never use it.”

  “You place such trust in the sons of Earthlings?”

  “I don’t want a war!”

  “But they do. They’re Martians. They train for war!”

  “So do you,” she remarked, intending the comment to stun him.

  She was rewarded with a low, lethal growl.

  “King Haggarty has pledged his loyalty to me,” she said. “I trust him. Let them keep their machine. But I will keep them close, and I will keep the peace, my way.”

  He turned away from her then, the muscles in his back bunched with frustration.

  “I only want to keep you safe,” he whispered. “This alliance will not keep you safe.”

  “I understand your apprehension, but you must trust me, Heedon. You must trust me the way that I trust you.”

  Yes, Heedon had every right to be upset. After all, wasn’t it she that had signed the treaty with the Martians, knowing full well that they had a machine that could nullify Zenith’s power.

  I thought if I kept them close, they would be an ally, a protector. Instead, they turned out to be our greatest threat.

  She stood up and paced the throne room.

  “You’re nervous,” Heedon said, his voice a gentle rumble of thunder in the room.

  “Don’t I have reason to be?”

  “Mars may have turned against us, but don’t forget Glorium is still the protector of Zenith. As we speak, Glorium ships are on their way with every available force to protect you.”

  “Yes, you’ve said that.”

  “Do you doubt my warriors?”

  “No. How could I?”

  “Then, what could be troubling the great Ra-Sul-Rah?”

  Embrya felt a smile die on her lips. His special name for her, Ra-Sul-Rah, the supreme goddess of Glorium, should have lifted her mood, reassured her of his support and his love. Today, it only made her stop pacing enough to look at Heedon’s powerful, pale figure. His fire red hair and beard, hallmarks of a Glorium warrior, shone in the sunlight.

  Guilt churned in her gut.

  “I should have listened to you,” she said. “You told me not to make a treaty with them, and I didn’t listen.”

  “We all make mistakes.”

  “Yes, but mine are starting to cost lives.”

  Heedon’s sharp blue eyes softened, and he covered the distance between them in a few, long legged strides. He wrapped her in his arms, a confident smile playing on his lips.

  “It will be all right. My warriors will protect you.” He tipped her head up to him, his gaze penetrating into the deepest part of her, the warmth of his breath heating her lips.

  Although she was one of the most powerful beings in the universe, the hot, impenetrable bulk of her warrior’s arms still made her feel safe, as if nothing could touch her as long as he was near.

  That’s not true, a voice in the back of her mind whispered.

  She ignored it, and pulled him closer.

  He placed a soft kiss on the top of her head, then laid his forehead on hers, “I will keep you safe.”

  Those words. That promise that she’d heard for a lifetime.

  Can he keep that promise?

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the throne room doors. A purple haired Zenithian fluttered into the room, her boxy grey dress wrinkled atop her thin frame. Behind her, several more Zenithians carried a large mirror between them.

  “Magistrate Embrya.” Dell Una’s purple hair flopped over her eyes as she bowed first in Embrya’s direction, then in Heedon’s. “High Keeper Heedon. The Specumium as requested.”

  “Thank you, Dell.”

  The Zenithians gently placed the highly polished Specumium in the center of the room, then fluttered away. Dell went to follow them.

  Embrya raised a hand to stay her.

  “Dell Una, please stay. We may have need of you.”

  Dell Una’s three eyes dropped, her mouth tilting down into a frown. She inclined her head, and fluttered to the steps in front of the throne. “Yes, Magistrate.”

  Embrya stood in front of the mirror, Heedon behind her.

  The surface of the Specumium shimmered as Embrya mentally connected with it. It slowly morphed into swirling, red fog.

  The Martian surface.

  “What’s wrong with it?” Heedon asked.

  “Our connection is being blocked,” Embrya said, her voice beginning to shake. “I can’t get in touch with King Haggarty.”

  “And the rest of Mars?”

  Embrya focused on the Specumium, her cheeks shaking with the effort. She battled with the Specumium until her pale cheeks turned red and she was forced to take a deep breath.

  The Specumium remained filled with the red clouds.

  “They’ve shut me out,” she whispered, her voice low, barely a whisper.

  She’d fleetingly hoped that this was just the actions of a few rogue Martians, but now she knew otherwise.

  This is the machine’s doing. What else could be so powerful and vast that it could shut me out? Haggarty must be behind this.

  Stinging betrayal move through her gut, and she bit off a rather undignified Glorium swear she’d heard from Heedon many times before.

  “Has this ever happened before?” Heedon asked.

  “No one has ever had the machine before,” Embrya replied. The rage that pumped through her moved her feet in determined strides to the throne room doors. With a flick of her eyebrow, the doors flung open before her.

  “But why would Mars turn against us now?” Heedon asked. “What’s changed?”

  “Bring me the High Specumium!” She cried into the hallway, the boom of her voice sending Zenithians scurrying to do her bidding.

  “You’re calling the other Forger-Keepers?”

  “If Zenith falls, they will need to replace us immediately. They will want to make plans.”

  “Do you insult me? Glorium will not see Zenith fall!”

  “Let us hope that the Martians don’t see it as well.”

  She heard him let out a breath as she cast aside the pearl colored robe she had been wearing, revealing a set of large, clear, embroidered wings. She flapped them harshly, flying back to her throne.

  Heedon jogged to follow her.

  She settled into her throne and folded her wings tightly to her back.

  “Dell Una, bring the Martian ambassador to me,” she said.

  Dell nodded, and quickly fluttered from the room.

  “Can you tell if Kiln and Nadira are alive?” Heedon asked.

  “They are off world, blocked by Martian technology.”

  “Should we alert Lex and Arees about what’s happened?”

  “Yes. They deserve to know.”

  “With the war coming, he’ll have to reclaim what’s his. He turned from your jurisdiction back to mine.”

  “Yes, I am aware of it.”

  “And Arees?” Heedon asked.

  “She’ll want to stay with him, I’m sure.”

  “She’s not Glorium. My people are trained to protect you, and Zenith. Not wayward Venians. If she gets in the way-”

  “When the time comes, she won’t need your protection.”

  Heedon considered this, squeezed his lips together, then took his place behind Embrya’s throne.

  She felt his frustration, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

  “Do you think that Eva had something to do with this?” she asked.

  Heedon shook his head. “Why would you think that?”

  Embrya turned away from him, focusing on the feeling of doom that nagged at her brain.

  She’d meet with the other Forger-Keepers.

  And then she would look in on Eva.

  CHAPTER 4

  Arees’ hand caressed the frosty glass. She shivere
d, not from the chilled window, but from a deeper place. The cold guilt of what she’d done sat like a hunk of ice deep in her soul.

  I’m a terrible person.

  She thought of all of the people she’d killed, tried to recall their names, if they had families. Certain faces stood out to her, friends she’d grown up with, fellow politicians. They were all dead now, falsely charged with unspeakable crimes, then executed by her word.

  How could I have done such things?

  A hot tear traced a path down her cheek. She wiped it away with cool fingers.

  If only I could do something. Perhaps I should try to make some sort of restitution.

  She chucked at the absurdity of it all.

  No, it would never be enough. Not after what I’ve done.

  She tried to count all of the lives she’d taken, her head aching with the magnitude of it all. Including the Unders, the number reached into the thousands.

  How can I live with myself? I’m a murderer. I’m the worst kind of person.

  She wiped another tear from her cheek and tried to understand how she’d gotten this way. The answer came to her swiftly, as if waiting for the question to be spoken. The single word both angered and saddened her.

  Mother.

  Arees’ pear shape, rich, dark skin, and addiction to power were a carbon copy of her mother’s. The senior Grand Empress Arees was born to rule, a true leader. Arees, the daughter, shared that trait. Anyone around her sensed it, followed her because of it. Her former positions as the Head of the High Council on Venus and the leader of the Unders proved that. But now, here she was. A guilt ridden woman, bound in her heart to a former slave, on a planet that was not her own. She was a queen, but she had no kingdom. Perhaps she never would have one again.

  She sighed.

  What a waste.

  Just then Lex walked out of the bathroom, beard trimmed, red hair slicked back from his handsome face. He hadn’t left her side since Embrya had given her the ice powered toma and restored her memories. His loyalty and devotion knitted her heart to his. She fleetingly wondered if all men were as loyal, intelligent, and gentle as Lex.

  Would I feel as bound to another man as I feel bound to him?

  A powerful vision of them locked together, lips clinging, made her breath catch in her throat.