Relinquish: Book II of the Rising Trilogy (3 page)

Carleon takes a deep breath and waits for my order. I can see how white his fingers are against his grip on his laser gun. For the first time I see him truly terrified and rightfully so. “Let’s go.”

He follows behind me at a near crouch, moving with extreme caution and as little noise as possible. We leave tracks in the softened ground, but there is no time to hide them, and with Vikesh tracking us, there’s no point either. I watch as Carleon’s gaze darts toward every shadow, no doubt convinced the alien is sneaking up on us, but that is not his way. He doesn’t need to hide.

“So you think you can take this guy?”

My shrug does little to ease either of our fears as we pause against the side of the building I thought to be the armory. I rise up and look over my shoulder into the window and am struck by a mixture of disappointment and relief. Long rows of bench tables span the length of the room. This is the mess hall, not a storage locker of weapons.
At least he won’t be able to blow us up with it!

“That’s the bunker over there.” I point to a single door that rises from the ground. An entrance rises in an arch that stands barely eight foot tall, plated with sheets of
hammered metal. The roof of the structure disappears into the earth, as if the tunnel has been swallowed whole. “Drakon should be through that door.”

There is no telling just how many exits there are to this bunker, or how many soldiers lie in wait beyond that door. I can feel my heart thumping wildly in my chest as I peer out into the dark.
Where has all of the laser fire gone?

The clearing between us and the bunker appears to be vacant, but looks can be deceiving. I take a calming breath and attempt to lower my heart rate. The last thing I need is Vikesh to use it against me.

But he wouldn’t want to do that. It’s not in his nature to end a foe so easily. No, he will want to make a public show of defeating me and he will want my friends to have a front row seat.

“Let’s go.” Silently, we dart across the clearing. Wailing cries suddenly rise from the other end of the base, tearing through the calm like a chainsaw gone rogue. I can feel Carleon hesitate beside me so I grab him by the arm and force him to keep moving.

“We can’t help them.” I know Eamon is alive, for the moment, but what about Toren or Kyan? I haven’t heard anything from them since the battle began.

An explosion from behind slams us to the ground. A scream lodges in my throat as I cover my head with my hands, feeling the fibers of my jacket begin to melt against the thin layer of my shirt. The intensity of the heat filters slowly away and I look up through a mess of tangled hair.

The forest all around the base has erupted into blue fire. The abnormal flames lick at the bark, scorching the barren branches. Like a hundred tiny flamethrowers, streams of fire shoot out from miniature cannons that have risen along the rooftops. Rebel and alien soldiers alike run amuck as they fling themselves into the mud to extinguish the flames that eat away at their uniforms.

“They’re killing their own men!” Carleon looks green as he watches the charred figures flail about in the distance.

“It’s war,” I say simply as I tug him on, knowing there is nothing we can do to help them. Carleon raises his hand to shield himself from the heat and I’m stuck again by how young he looks. Even though he physically appears a year or two younger than I am, he has already lived more years on Calisted than I have here on Earth. Time passes differently there. The beauty of youth is not stolen away quite so swiftly. “Drakon is our mission. If we go to help those men, then he might slip away in all of the chaos and their deaths will be for nothing.”

I can see how hard it is for Carleon to turn away, but he does so without a single protest. We all knew the risk in coming here. Death was inevitable, but I would have liked to have kept it to a minimum. Apparently Drakon isn’t playing by the same rules with his own men.

Movement from across the clearing catches the corner of my eye almost a second too late. “Watch out!” I shove Carleon back to the ground as the large oil tank explodes in front of us. The fumes burn my eyes and the blistering heat singes the hairs on the back of my arms. I choke on the thick smoke rolling through the clearing.

My lungs burn on the acrid scent that boils around us. Everywhere I look, orange and blue dances with deadly intent. I close my eyes and press my hand out to the side, using a gust of wind to expel the flames nearest us. My nostrils flare as I halt the movement of my lungs until the worst of the fumes passes by. I notice the black soot that clings to my hand as I pat Carleon on the back. “You good?”

“No,” he grunts as he rolls to his side, clutching his chest. His face is a coated with a similar tarlike substance. His eyes gleam whiter than usual in the dark. “I think I landed on my spleen.”

“At least you’re alive.”

“What happened?” he asks, rolling up to his knees. He clutches his side, his chest rising and falling in a rapid tempo.

“Vikesh,” I whisper.

“How can you tell?” He turns and freezes when he follows my gaze. I can see the shadowy outline of a man approaching from the south, his form unclear, rippling with translucidity. His gait is slow, unconcerned. He knows I will not run. If I do, everyone will die.

“Illyria.” His taunting voice carries on the breeze,
deep and filled with mockery. I brush sweat from my brow and clench my fists at my side. I breathe a tiny sigh of relief as the blissfully chilled night air begins to seep back into the yard, combatting the blistering heat all around.

I can see Carleon from the corner of my eye. He looks paler than before, although I hadn’t thought it possible. His Adam’s apple bobs as he widens his stance beside me. I motion for him to be silent. He nods and shifts his weight to the side, unsettling the thin crust of newly heated dirt about his boot.

“Don’t—” My cry cuts off as a terrible rumbling rises from the earth. The ground writhes like an angry snake and a deep crevice appears before us.

“Jump!” I toss myself to the side as the ground under my feet disappears into a sinkhole. I land on the edge, teetering precariously.

Carleon cries out as his chest slams into the crumbling edge. He frantically digs his fingers into the shifting dirt, but there is nothing to cling to. “I can’t get a hold!”

His legs flail about as he begins to slip. I harness my energy, closing my eyes for a split second to focus, and fling him out of the sinkhole with my mind. He flops once as he lands hard on his stomach, his arm bent awkwardly beneath him. I’m just about to escape the hole myself when I hear a voice behind me, much nearer than before. “You seem to be struggling, Illyria. Are you sure you are up to the challenge?” Vikesh taunts.

I dig my fingers deep into the ground and feel something solid, a tree root that wound its way under the wall and into the depths of the yard. I grab hold of it and pull myself hand over hand from the hole.

“Why didn’t you just fling yourself out?” Carleon asks as he comes to help me the final couple of feet. My stomach feels bruised and my hands raw from gripping the branch so tightly. My palms sting as I shake them out at my sides.

I’m breathing heavily by the time I’m fully on solid ground again, but I know I have no time to rest. “Because I’m going to need all the strength I have left. Now I want you to run. I don’t care which direction as long as you don’t head south. Get as far away from here as you can. When you are at the extraction point, wait for Eamon and his men to fall back. I don’t want any more men to die tonight.”

“No way.” He shakes his head and he helps me to a sitting position. I wince, realizing my right side is far more sensitive than I had originally thought. It hurts to breathe. “I’m not leaving you here with him.”

I grab the front of his uniform and pull him close. “If you don’t, I will lose because I will be trying to save both of us. You need to leave. That’s an order.”

Static hisses in the comm that dangles from my cheek. I snatch it up. “Find Drakon and get out. Carleon will meet you at the rendezvous point. I’ll take care of Vikesh myself.”

I yank the comm from my ear and crush it underfoot. The last thing I need is Vikesh using the static against me.

Don’t you dare take him on alone
, a voice bursts loudly in my mind. I wince and Carleon turns to watch me. I offer him a weak smile but keep my eyes focused on Vikesh’s approach. He seems to be waiting for something… or someone.

You don’t have to yell, Kyan. I can hear you just fine.

Good. Then I forbid you to go through with this. Eamon is beside himself. You know he will come for you.

No! Knock him out and drag him back to the woods. He can’t help me. No one can.

“Go, Carleon,” I hiss as I shove at his arm. He hesitates but rises slowly.

We’re coming for you.

I grit my teeth, knowing I have to finish with Vikesh quickly. As much as I adore my friends, their stubborn streak really gets on my nerves at times.

Vikesh’s tall form appears to shimmer in the firelight as he allows himself to fully materialize. His uniform is scarlet from neck to overly polished black boots. I can see a mirrored image of the flames on the ground, contorting on their glossed surface as he passes. Huge silver spikes protrude from his ears, spanning nearly from
cheek to scalp. A thick metal bar is shoved through his nose. The skin of his forehead and cheeks has been tattooed with black scrawling symbols. He stares down at me with scarlet eyes filled with barely concealed elation.

You won’t make it in time
, I say back to Kyan and sever the connection.

I am on my own now.

Two

I stare down the giant before me, unnerved by the difference in our size. Vikesh towers over me like a mighty oak tree, as broad and round as one too. His skin glows bronze in the light of the fire. His bald head shiny and slicked with sweat.

At least I’m not the only one who is showing some weakness,
I think idly as I plant my feet and release my hold on my wounded side. “I had hoped you’d be dead by now.”

Vikesh’s laughter rumbles deep in his chest. Dark hairs escape out from the collar of his uniform, curling over the lip of his rounded neckline. “I had the same hopes for you, my dear, but alas… here we are.”

He steps to the edge of the crevice that separates us and balls up his fists against his hips. “Although, I have to admit I am pleased to see you. I was so hoping we could tango one more time. You weren’t exactly fair competition when we last met.”

When his tongue snakes out between his lips, I see he has added a few more studs to his collection. Each one lining the center of his tongue is spiked and slick with moisture. How he manages to swallow around those things I will never know.

I don’t let my disgust show as my gaze drifts over him. The sleeves of his uniform have been torn off at the top of his shoulders, revealing a patchwork of burns, scars, and glowing blue tattoos. There is hardly any bronze flesh left barren.

His eyes glint crimson in the flickering flames, but I know this is not their true appearance. No, his eyes are void of color, like the blackest pit where sunlight never reaches.

The scarlet uniform melds with the muscles that protrude obscenely from his large frame. I can actually see the rise of his veins through the glove-like material. His calf muscles are larger than my thigh, his arms brawny enough to snap my neck like a twig if I were ever foolish enough to get that close.

I fight to stifle my snort of disgust as his eyes roam freely over my body, pausing to take in the curves that are
amplified by my mud-slicked black uniform. Eamon would do something insanely reckless if he were here to see Vikesh’s leer.

“You haven’t changed one bit,” he says, raising his gaze from my chest.

“Wish I could say the same for you,” I growl back. My fingers clench into fists at my side. Vikesh loves to taunt, to draw out his playtime, but I have no intention of letting him have that satisfaction.

I flicker my gaze just to the side of him and nearly grin as he falls for my ruse. I am already halfway across the crevice before he realizes my intent. My hair whips against my cheek as I twist to connect my boot with his jaw.

The outline of his body ripples a split second before he dematerializes, stumbling backward. I plummet to the ground, landing hard enough on my hip to suck the breath from my lungs.

“A nice strike,” his ghostly voice calls from somewhere to my left. “I did not think you had it in you.”

I spring back onto my feet, turning slowly as I search for any hint of a disturbance in the air that will betray his location. The smoke is thicker now, rolling in giant, stifling waves from the forest. The night sky overhead gleams burnt orange as the fires spread from tree to tree, never crossing into the base.
The swamp muck is good for something at least
, I think as I grit my teeth against the pain, stuffing it down deep so I can focus.

A near constant buzzing rises in my ears as I feel ripples of energy coursing down my arms. I wonder if Vikesh can hear it or sense its presence. Can my own energy be used against me? I’d rather not find out.

I step away from the crumbling rim of the crevice and pause beside a rock. With hardly a thought, I toss it through the air to my left, but it slams into a section of the wall that still remains intact and falls uselessly to the ground

“Tsk. Tsk. You are starting to disappoint me.” His voice comes from my right. I turn to see him lounging against the wall of the bunker, one leg crossed over the other as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

I grin as I throw out my hands. An invisible blast of energy spirals across the clearing and shoves him back into the steel wall, the weakened metal crumpling in around him. His growl of fury is cut off as I latch onto him again, seizing the front of his uniform with my mind, and hurl him past me, slamming him into the concrete wall. The top row of blocks rock from their mortar bed and tumble down upon him. His cry of outrage rises as he crawls to his feet and I turn to face off with him.

I brace as he draws his arms out to either side of his body and swings them in rapidly as his fists connect. I throw up a protective shield only seconds before the explosion hits. My hair whips behind my back as I plant my feet, leaning into the blast. Rocks, beams of splintered wood, and brick pelt at me, grazing harmlessly off my shield, grinding into a fine sandy texture that piles about my feet.

“Impressive.” Vikesh mockingly claps as he stands to his full height. I can see blood dripping from his shattered knuckles, but he seems oblivious to the pain. “How about this?”

He whirls his hands in a circular motion in front of him, sucking the flames from the oil tanker into a vacuum before him. It swirls into a ball, the bright orange and blue flames entwining as he throws out his hands and hurls it toward me.

In my mind, I burrow deep into the ground, searching. I grin as Vikesh’s eyes widen in shock as the ground before me erupts into a geyser of water from a spring hidden many feet below us. Steam places a veil between us as the water and fire collide.

“Equally impressive.” He doesn’t sound quite as haughty as he did a moment ago. I ache to release the tension wound painfully between my shoulder blades, but I know I can’t show any sign of weakness or he will exploit it.

“Is that all you’ve got?” I goad, stepping to the side of the geyser so I can keep my gaze focused on him. My hair falls in dripping strands over my eyes, clinging to my cheeks. The water is cold, making the skin beneath my uniform pimple with sensitivity, but I ignore my discomfort. I am running out of time. If Eamon arrives before Vikesh is dead, he will attempt to help me and that will put all our lives at risk.

I order you to wait for us.
My mentor Kyan’s voice breaks into my thoughts.

I grit my teeth.
I’m trying to concentrate.

You can’t win this battle, Illyria. He is far too strong.

I swipe the clumps of hair from my face, blinking back the streams of water that pour down my face, and glare at Vikesh as he shifts, crouching low as if he might pounce at me any second.
I can do this.

You are not ready. You overestimate your abilities.

Anger and resentment swirl through my chest, making the energy rippling along the length of my body visibly spark.
And you underestimate how ticked off I am!

I sever the connection and shove Kyan firmly from my mind, making sure he takes the hint. I don’t need him. This time the fight is between Vikesh and me. Only one of us is walking away and I have no intention of losing a second time.

“I like you, despite your puny size and offensive tongue. You are a strong woman, foolish and bullheaded, but strong. We could make a great pair.”

“Sorry.” I crouch low, never leaving his gaze. “I’m already taken.”

“A pity.” His grin is truly gruesome when his lips peel back to reveal teeth the color of honey with pockmarked black stains between. “I could have had a lot of fun with you, but then again, perhaps your goodies have already been plucked by that boy…” He mockingly taps his finger against his chin. “Bastien, was it?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” I can feel the vibrations begin in my chest the instant I hear Bastien’s name and I try to regain my composure.

Vikesh grins, closing his eyes for a moment. “I can feel that I have struck a nerve. Good. I’ve been aching for a decent fight.”

The winds begin to whip about me, tugging at my water-drenched clothes. A chill settles over me as my teeth begin to chatter from the cold. The veil of grey dotting out the stars overhead begins to shift, mounting upon
themselves into thunderous storm clouds. Vivid white lightning forks across the sky.

Vikesh opens his eyes and cranes his neck back. “Is he here? The boy who turned you down?”

The energy rippling through my fingers increases into such a frantic rhythm that it makes my bones ache from trembling.

“No, of course not.” Vikesh leers at me. “I hear he’s forgotten all about you now.”

“Enough,” I growl, lifting my hands overhead.

“Illyria!” The cry fights to pierce through the rising winds. I turn and look back over my shoulder to see Kyan and Eamon arrive at the far end of the barren yard. Eamon’s brow has been cut open and blood pours from the wound. A bandage has been wrapped around his thigh but has already begun to seep through. He leans heavily upon Kyan, who looks only slightly less damaged. I can't see Toren anywhere.

“Stay out of this,” I shout and wave one hand back toward them to push them into the shadows, but it is too late. Vikesh’s attention has shifted toward my friends.

“This is between you and me, Vikesh!”

“Is it? Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” His eyes appear to glow from within as he turns his head. “Can you hear it? The music of their heartbeats?”

Sheer terror grips me as Eamon limps forward, shrugging off Kyan’s grasp. I dive without thinking, waiting for the splintering pain that will seize my shoulder when I slam into Vikesh’s midsection, but it never comes. Vikesh dematerializes and I collapse to the ground in a bruised heap.

“Illyria!”

I press my palms into the soil and push myself up to my feet. I don’t have to look to know what I will find, but when I do, my stomach gives way.

“He seems awful taken with you. Is this the other one? The one you settled for when Bastien cast you aside?” Vikesh holds Eamon by the neck several feet off the ground. He stands on the opposite side of the sinkhole, nearly thirty feet from where Eamon was only a moment ago.
How did he move so quickly?

Eamon flails, kicking out at Vikesh, but the giant hardly pays him any attention. Static electricity ripples in the air around me, lifting wisps of hair from my shoulders as hatred pools in my belly.
I will kill him for this,
I silently vow.

“Eamon, don’t move.” His eyes widen with fright as a fork of lightning spears down from the clouds. Vikesh’s mouth gapes open in horror as he tosses Eamon aside and throws out his hands, grappling for control of the bolt.

Get him out of here!
I scream at Kyan as I step forward, pressing with all my might against Vikesh’s strong hold. I can feel him attempting to disintegrate the lightning by rearranging the currents. Already, sparks of fire ricochet off the bolt and sizzle as they sear the metal of the bunker.

I don’t have time to see if Kyan is following my order as I take another step, biting down on my lower lip until my teeth pierce my flesh and blood pools along my gums. I jerk my head to the side as Vikesh sends a spark my way. A narrow miss.

I struggle to refocus, but I can feel a quivering beginning in my arms. Facing off with Vikesh is sapping my energy too quickly. I won’t be able to hold this much longer.

Vikesh’s mounting fear is nearly palpable as whirlwinds of dust rise in attempt to distract me. I swipe them away easily as I take another step. A mere dirt trick won’t be enough to sway me as a new idea forms in my mind.

I focus the main part of power on my struggle against Vikesh but streamline the remainder back up into the clouds. A single, spear-like bolt of pink lightning lances toward his heart. His eyes widen with horror a second before the electricity strikes. He dematerializes with a horrific scream.

Flaming particles drift on the air as his shriek rises to ear-splitting heights.

“Get down!” Someone slams me from behind as the released lightning bolt careens into the bunker. Sparks explode in a shower of color. The explosion is deafening, echoing deep into the forest.

Molten debris rains down from above. A distressed cry in my ear sends me into action and I close my eyes, shoving the person laid across my back out of harm’s way as the chunks of heated metal rain down upon me. I cry out as it connects, melting the fibers of my jacket to my skin. The scent of burnt flesh makes my stomach lurch as I weakly throw up my arm, creating a partial protection.

White-hot metal glows on the ground around me, but I barely give it any notice as my shield sputters and dies. One shriek rips from my lips as something lances through my side. Darkness encroaches on my vision as my arms and legs give out, spilling me to the ground. I’m only vaguely aware of someone screaming as my eyes flutter closed and I am trapped within my pain.

Everything hurts.

“Illyria!” I blink, struggling to focus on the man kneeling beside me, cradling my head in his hands.

“Carleon?”

“Oh, god.” His voice trembles as he lifts his hand. I can see in the flickering of firelight that it is slick with blood. Fresh blood. My blood.

I grind my teeth as he attempts to roll me over. “Don’t!”

Nausea washes over me when something large shifts in my abdomen. “Don’t look, okay?” he whispers as he wipes his hands against the breast of his uniform.