I woke groggily. My brain felt like it had been trampled by a herd of crazy animals and my whole body was aching, even my toes. The ringing in my ears was gone through, which I took to be a good sign, and the nausea had subsided.
It took a moment to sort through my memories and piece together what had happened. I remembered the explosion without being able to pinpoint its origin. I could mentally retrace my steps from the moment I’d been awakened this morning by the shrill ring of the alarm, then all the way to the wedding.
The wedding.
The prince’s lifeless body, his bride in a dress of gold holding him, the dark silhouette of the assassin on the ground. It all seemed too horrific to be true.
“Hey Nyla, she’s awake,” a voice called out, startling me. Until then, I hadn’t realized I wasn’t alone. I jumped up quickly –too quickly. My head spun and I hoped that my previous bits of nausea weren’t returning. Thankfully, they grew fainter as my body got used to sitting up and the dark spots that had blurred my vision disappeared. “You okay?”
I looked up at the guy leaning against the wall opposite me. He was leaner and shorter than most of the men I’d grown up with. Shaggier too, I thought, noticing his curly caramel hair and the short beard darkening his jaw.
“Who are you?” I answered, ignoring his previous question.
“Pilot.”
He gestured around and I finally focused on my surroundings.
I’d been in enough ships to know that this was one, probably one of the more recent models seeing as how the luminescent blue streaks that lined the walls was a feature that only the last two G-Cruiser models had adopted. It was now the norm for all vessels of a certain size: for security purposes, it was a good idea to be able to find the walls in total darkness. The stripes were also equipped with a gravitational pull mechanism to avoid human beings being hurtled through the ship.
Then it hit me. If I was here then I could be anywhere in the known world right now. I had no idea how long I’d slept for: for all I knew the cruiser was past the Andromeda belt. I could be millions of space miles away from Letha.
“Where are we? Where are you taking me?”
“About halfway to Hymir, I’d say we’ll get there in ten to twelve hours.”
I jumped to my feet and leapt at the pilot, my hands crashing against his chest. I heard the air being expelled from his lungs.
“Hymir? You’re taking me to another fucking solar system? That’s called kidnapping, you psycho.” I screamed, the stress getting the best of me. I almost lost my balance as my vision blurred. I blinked through it, anchoring myself to the anger and anxiety boiling inside me. “Take me back, right now.”
He looked unperturbed by my outburst, although his tone was a little annoyed when he replied. “Look lady, I didn’t kidnap you and I’m not the one who chose the terminus of the trip. Hymir isn’t really my dream destination either. Take it up with Nyla.”
The name sounded familiar, but the way you remembered a childhood friend’s name, like a distant memory. I let the pilot go and he sagged imperceptibly against the wall. “Nyla?” I echoed.
“Yes?”
I turned to the door just in time to see a slender woman dressed in a sort of black catsuit enter. It took me an instant to recognize the perfect features of her face, from her almond-shaped eyes to the sheen of her mahogany-colored hair. The golden dress had made her look exquisite and delicate, but in this outfit, she reminded me of a wild animal: striking, but lethal.
I stared at her for a long time. She definitely looked capable of murdering her fiancé.
“Why did you kill him?” I blurted out, surprising even myself.
“Who?” Her face was blank, as emotionless as it had been while she was cradling her husband-to-be as his life seeped out of him.
“Prince Raphael.”
“No,” she said sharply. “I was set up. That letter was a fake.”
I glanced around us, at the bowels of the cruiser she’d escaped in. Didn’t innocent people face justice, knowing that there would be no evidence to convict them?
“Then why did you run?”
“Whoever killed Raphael isn’t stupid. They would have put together a convincing case against me, starting with that letter. I’m a perfect scapegoat to build a believable story around. I’m a stranger, I came from another world without anything and charmed my way into the palace.” She was still calm, calmer than anyone should be in this sort of situation. “It’s easy to convince the people that I’m guilty.”
The pilot was nodding slowly at her words, a sardonic smile on his lips.
“Why should I believe you?” I asked skeptically. There was something about the way she talked, the way she examined everything with her eyes. It was too methodical, too cold.
Nyla sighed, her shoulders falling.
“I loved him. I can’t prove it, but I did.” She looked down at the sparkling diamond adorning her left hand. “Let’s be honest, even if I was only with him for the perks, now that he’s dead I’ve got nothing: no money, no power, no promise of safety. It was in my best interest to keep him alive.” She seemed lost in thought for an instant. “And if I had hated him and wanted him dead, don’t you think I would have been smarter about it? At the very least, I could have waited until I was officially his wife before discreetly slipping him some poison.”
She had a point: it was completely illogical of her to murder her soon-to-be husband when she had so much to gain as his wife. However, the indifference with which she spoke of hypothetically murdering the prince herself was unsettling to say the least.
I stared at her, at her unflinching gaze and hard demeanor, and wondered in what state I’d be in her shoes. Perhaps stoically enduring the profound loss she was going through was her way of coping.
After a handful of seconds, I nodded. “Fine, let’s say I believe you. That still doesn’t explain why I’m here.”
“I was wondering the same thing,” interjected the pilot, pushing himself away from the wall to stand closer to us, arms crossed. I noticed the light-colored lines of faded scars crisscrossing on his bare skin. Spotting my interest, he arched an eyebrow, looking amused. I glanced down at my feet.
“You’re here to help me,” Nyla explained, ignoring the pilot. “I need someone with access to the info systems and some specific knowledge of Letha’s military organization.”
I frowned. “I don’t have that kind of access.”
“Not yet,” she said mysteriously. I waited for her to enlighten me but she’d fished out a tablet from a bag I hadn’t noticed she was holding. She was then tapping her fingers on its surface, obviously no longer paying attention to me. “I’ve got some things to take care of, I’ll be in the mess if any of you need me.”
She stalked away with a sort of feline grace, never once looking up from her screen. I realized that the pilot hadn’t moved an inch, he was still standing a little too close, his arms still crossed resolutely over his chest.
“What’s your name?” I asked him, if just to break the uncomfortable silence.
“What’s yours?”
I rolled my eyes, he was getting on my nerves. “I’m Sierra.”
“Oh, that explains the hair.” He was nodding thoughtfully –a look that didn’t really suit him. “What’s your real name?”
My heart clenched slightly. I’d been called Sierra for almost fifteen years, and though I’d tried to hold on to the name my mother had given me, I couldn’t remember it anymore. Every time I tried grasping it, it slipped through my fingers like wisps of smoke.
“What’s yours, pilot?” I said to conceal the anguish his question had caused.
He smirked; apparently, my attempt at hiding my feelings hadn’t worked as expected. “The name’s Ezra,” he answered anyway, right before leaving just as Nyla had moments before.
I flopped down onto the camp bed, a long sigh escaping my lips. What was I supposed to do now? I was on my way to another galaxy with a possible murderer and an infuriating pilot, with a mysterious mission and no idea what I was supposed to do.
I thought about trying to turn the ship around myself, a feat I was pretty sure was above my skills. In any case, did I really want to go back? What was waiting for me on Letha? A job I despised? Friends who never spoke their mind?
Through all the stress and anxiety, I could sense a nervous flutter of excitement growing in my chest. This could be my escape: my one chance to see the world and break out of the life I’d been forced into. I wasn’t leaving anything behind, not really: no family or real friends, nothing but rules and an endless fight for survival.
Maybe I was on the wrong side of the law, but it felt good to be free, electrifying even.
With a resolute smile, I got back up and headed toward the mess hall where I knew I’d find the other two misfits.
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