Kept by the Zandian: Zandian Brides Book 5 Page 2

  Leylah’s quiet for a second. “Something came to me in a dream, about you and the toxin.”

  I nod. Leylah has dreams regularly that mean things to her. If the rest of us think some of them sound like nonsense, we don’t tell her, because the truth is that we all want to believe there is something bigger than this world we inhabit. We want to believe in a future beyond slavery.

  “And in this dream, what did I do with the toxin?” I smile, like it’s a story, a joke.

  But Leylah doesn’t smile.

  She puts down her tools and looks at me. “Tomorrow afternoon,” she says, her voice soft and earnest, “I am going to die.”

  I gasp, horrified, but she’s still talking. “In the middle of the market I am going to die, right near the river, when you and Rannah are with me to gather supplies for barracks. The Ocretion visitors are here, and so are other traders. When I fall, you are going to slip away and hide on a trade ship. You will use the venom as you need to fell anyone who stops you. No Ocretions know this poison exists, and they will think the being died from a heart attack. Nobody will suspect poison.”

  I stare at her, hand over my mouth, eyes wide. Heart frantic. “I-I…”

  “You will hide on a specific ship, and once you are out in free air space, you will come out and petition for asylum.”

  “I…” I shake my head. “Leylah.”

  “And they will take you, and they will say yes, because the ship you get on”—she picks up the syringe and slides it into a protective tube—“is a ship of Zandians. They take humans to breed, to mate, even. It is said their queen is human, though some say she is just a slave. My dreams show me she is far more. And she has the sight, like me.”

  “But an escaped slave—”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “You will be a dead slave. You will fall into the river and drown. Rannah will see it and tell everyone. She will be happy about it.”

  “I don’t understand. You just said I was going to get onto a ship.”

  She puts the syringes back into the silver box and closes the clasp. “I will fall down and die in the market, in the stall closest to the river. You will scream and be upset, will lose your footing in your grief, and will fall into the river and be drawn away. Once you swim upstream, you come up and get out of the water, retrieve the clothing and pack you will stash, and get onto the Zandian ship.”

  I shake my head. “You mean you’re going to pretend to die, right?” I stand up and take her hands in mine. “Right, Leylah?”

  She meets my eyes. “No, lei. It’s my time.”

  “It isn’t.” Anger and fear twist in my gut. “Nobody knows when their time is. You can’t say that.”

  She coughs. “Last planet rotation, I overheard Master talking with his visitor. The visitor is quite taken with you and your skin, your hair. Your face. He wants you for himself. He spoke of incredible amounts of stein. They are going to trade for you.”

  I suck in air, dizzy. “Oh, no. No.” The visitor inspected me today, just before the young fell in the river. I think of that warted hand, those rheumy eyes. The promise of pain and torture. Mating with that disgusting being. “I cannot.”

  “No, you cannot. So I must get you to safety. I had thought to wait another solar cycle, until you were stronger. But we must do this now.”

  “But you can’t die to do it.”

  She gets up and hobbles to the corner. “Here is a pack with your new clothing, which you will stash at the corner of the fencing. After you come out of the water, you run here, fetch it, change and then head for the ships. I have loaded the syringes for you to use. And the rest of what you will take is in here.”

  She comes back and touches my head. “You will take those stories and legends and ideas back to Zandia, to the beings there. Their noble king. Oh, Mother Earth, I just wish I could send you all.”

  Her eyes flood with tears. “But at least I can send one. And some planet rotation one will lead to a million. You will be that leader. You will tell them what they need to know, and it will be helpful. More helpful than you even know.”

  “I’m not a leader, Leylah. I’m not anything.” I bend over to vomit, but nothing comes. “And I’m not going to let you die just so I can escape.”

  She takes my shoulder. “You have a new life in front of you, and it starts tomorrow.” She sees my eyes and adds, “I’m dying either way.”

  I sit down, overwhelmed with adrenaline and fear. “I don’t understand.”

  She comes beside me. “My time is coming, I feel it in my bones. And it’s your time, too.”

  She touches my face. “Your skin makes you different from the others. But what’s in here”—she taps my chest—“is what makes you even more extraordinary.”

  I blink at her.

  “You have something in you that the others don’t have. A strength, a kindness. An ability to rise beyond. Do you see that?”

  I don’t know if I see it. I shake my head.

  “Tell me: Why did you save that young?” She challenges me with her stare. “Was it for security, because you were afraid of what might happen if you did not?”

  I think about the fear in his eyes, the hope. The way he watched us, with no hate in his eyes. “No. It was an as of yet innocent life. I needed to help him. I don’t know how to explain. Maybe it was because he wasn’t evil yet. I couldn’t let him die.”

  She nods. “You have a special spirit, Taisha. A power you don’t yet understand. You feel things in your bones, sometimes, like I do. And you have the courage to do the unimaginable. That is why of all the females here, I’ve chosen you to carry our stories and our legacy out into the galaxy. Some planet rotation, maybe a cycle, or maybe a thousand solar cycles from now, you or your kin will return to save us all.”

  “But you’ll be gone.”

  “Humans will still be here, waiting for you, Taisha.” She puts her hand above my heart. “Carry that in here with you. Not the death of a young in your past. But the salvation of a young, in the future. That’s what I have, and what I pass to you.”

  She adds, “It’s better than hate, you know.”

  “What is?”

  “Rannah is right. Hate is powerful and it can sustain you for a long time. The only thing even stronger is love. I ask you to cast out enough hate to leave room for love to grow. That’s what you take with you.”

  She coughs. “And one more thing, from my dream. I saw the human queen named Lamira. We spoke to each other in the dream, although it was hard, like screaming into a waterfall. She has the sight like I do, although we’re so far apart, it’s just flickers. Tell her that Leylah sent you, when you arrive on the planet. Tell her that…” She coughs again. “Tell her that the secret will come to her with the silver coin. I don’t know what it means, but I think it’s important.”

  “Coin?”

  Leylah takes my palm, and something metallic slides across my skin. “It’s an artifact from a long dead planet—”

  My fingers buzz with a little spark, and I answer before she can finish. “Earth.” I stare at the thing, transfixed at how the answer came to me before I knew what she’d say.

  It’s old, as if it’s been buried for eons. It fits into my palm just barely as I close my fingers, but it feels like it belongs to me already. There are symbols I cannot read embossed into it, although Leylah has taught me to scribe. And a face, a profile, as familiar as it is mysterious. I hear voices, then see a sudden flash of purple and a burst of light—then it’s gone.

  “That’s right.” She smiles and touches my hand. “Earth.”

  “But how did you even get this? Why does it”—I shake my head—“speak… to me?”

  Leylah’s eyes are shrewd. “What does it say?”

  I close my eyes and try to concentrate, but that little spark is gone. I open them again in frustration. “Nothing. I thought I got a glimpse of something, but it was just my imagination.” I squeeze the coin anew, but feel nothing but its edges biting the inside bend of m
y knuckles.

  She does not answer any of my questions. “I knew I chose well.” She seems almost exuberant all of a sudden. “You…” She coughs and takes a long time to stop, so long I rush for fluid.

  She waves her hand. “I am all right for now. Hide this coin. Give it to Lamira, and only Lamira. No other being on Zandia, even ones you trust.”

  “Why?”

  “Because.” She answers as if it’s obvious. “It’s meant for her. It will mean nothing to other beings.”

  “All right.”

  It’s not all right, and I flash back to the stream from earlier, when I scratched my skin and Rannah tried to comfort me, before she hated me. It’s like déjà vu, a sick feeling, over and over. But Leylah doesn’t hate me. She loves me. All of us. I have to do this. My bones tell me it’s true.

  “You will have miraculous adventures.” She looks at me, eyes intent. Piercing. “During them, you must keep your core hidden.” She puts her hand on my chest. “Do not ever give up that secret part of you. Do not surrender it to any being, at any time, for any reason. Your spark inside is what makes you special, Taisha. You must keep it apart, stubborn, firm. It is yours, and belongs to you alone, and your future. If you give up your heart, you will always be a slave.”

  I nod. “Never surrender to another being.”

  “And don’t tell them about what happens at the rock, with the young. Not until it’s time. And use the orange. He will, too.”

  “The what? I don’t understand. Leylah?”

  Leylah wheezes and touches my scratched face. “The scars inside are worse, I know. But when you leave here, you get the chance to heal. Take that chance, for me. For all of us.”

  Chapter 3

  Present Planet Rotation

  Taisha

  “So that’s your story?”

  The Zandian crosses his arms, and his muscles ripple. My nipples tighten and I dart my eyes away. How is that in the midst of my story, I’m fascinated by his form?

  “Do you doubt me?”

  “It’s a little far-fetched.” He narrows his eyes. “So your slave-barracks’ mother, Leylah? She fell down in the market, and you used the diversion to accidentally fall into the river and pretend to drown?”

  “She didn’t just fall down.” My vision blurs with tears. “She actually—died.” I can see it as clearly as when it happened. “She made a little sound, a sort of hum, then a gasp, and she went down.” It was like a piece of cloth rippling in the wind, and I knew instantly that her essence was gone from her body.

  “And then you jumped into the river, and you managed to swim upstream against the current and get out and get that secret pack?” Disbelief rings in his voice. “The only way out of the fenced in slave area, and you managed to escape.”

  I nod.

  “Then you were attacked by an Ocretion guard, you killed him with this syringe and he died?”

  I nod again. I omitted the part about the coin. After all, Leylah said it was for Lamira alone. Plus, I’m not even on Zandia yet.

  “And no other being saw you.”

  I look away. “No. No being saw me after that.”

  This is not quite true.

  I made it out of the river and took the pack, changed clothing. I ran back to the market, disguised in a shawl to hide my face. I even made it to the edge of the tarmac where the ships waited, a vast baked expanse of earth with shimmering craft. And after killing the guard, my nerves were shot—it was obvious that if I didn’t get onto a ship now, I’d be dead.

  Hiding behind the ever present red boulders, I waited, watching as beings readied pallets of goods for upload onto various craft. Eyeing the one I needed.

  But then–

  A hurried committee materialized: Master, his visitor, and Rannah, her wrists tied. Face angry, tears staining it.

  “I told you, she fell in! She drowned!” Rannah’s voice was shrill and carried the conviction of truth. “She died. I saw it. She went under and was carried away. No being could survive the current.”

  And then I saw the little smile across her face, the one that said she was glad. And they all saw it too, and when Master saw it, his face relaxed somewhat.

  Not enough, though. Because his visitor—the one who wanted me, who’d touched my face with his disgusting hand—was dissatisfied. He looked all around, as if he might spot me lingering in the area.

  “She could have escaped.” He scowled. “Perhaps she is hiding here, trying to get onto a ship. Search the area for her.”

  “Impossible.” Master spat. “These ships are too advanced for stowaways, and all the slaves know it means torture and death if they even try.” I don’t think he likes to be challenged, especially by a guest, and in front of others. Hopefully, he’ll disagree just because he’s angry.

  All it would take is one finger, though. He needed to lift just his finger and make a command, and then his guards would carry out a search, and I would be found. And this time, the syringe that saved my life earlier, would only mean torture before death—for me and possibly for some of my friends, too.

  Rannah twisted her shoulders. “She’s shredded up in the river,” she repeated, and the pleasure in her voice, undisguisable, sends a knife into my heart.

  Still, Master wasn’t sure.

  And I knew my fate was over when his son, standing to the side as always, looked right at me and spotted me behind the boulder. Our eyes met, just like when he was in the river, dying, and I was on the bank. Those odd eyes, the color brighter than ever, so different from his father’s.

  I was dead, and I knew it.

  But then the son said the words that changed my life: “I saw it. She went under and didn’t come up. Just some red, her blood, and then nothing.” He spreads his legs and crosses his arms. “But they are replaceable, Father. If you allow me, I will attend auction and purchase you another. I am ready to take my place with you. I am ready to grow up.”

  He locked eyes with his father, and the two of them gazed for a long time. After a beat, Master stepped back.

  “You heard him.” His voice was almost jubilant. “My son has seen it. Let us go.” He fell back to walk alongside the young. “Find me a replacement as soon as you can.”

  The Ocretion visitor cursed under his breath and waved his hand. Good riddance. “Well, no matter,” he said. “I will choose another.” Still, he looked back once more, one last glance around the tarmac.

  “You will choose any one you want. I will let you take two.” Master grinned and put his hand onto his son’s shoulder. “My young and I will see to it.”

  And that was the last I saw of the Ocretions before I climbed into a spare sack on the pallet of goods waiting for upload onto the Zandian ship.

  I look back up at the Zandian now. “Nobody knows I am here.”

  He examines me for a long second, and it’s like his eyes drill into my skull. Does he know I’m lying? If he mistrusts me, will he shoot me out into space? Bring me back to the Ocretions? I hold my breath and look as earnest as I can.

  Finally he looks away. “Give her food and more medical care,” he says in Ocretion, the language in which we converse, and I let out a tremulous breath. “I will question her more when she is stronger.”

  For some reason, those words make my body burn.

  I’m just nervous, I think. My fate lies in his hands now. Those strong, capable hands.

  The Zandians like humans for mates, Leylah told me. Would this being like to have me? For the first time in my life, the idea of mating is not unwelcome.

  To disguise my nerves, I sip again from the fluid tube he’s provided. Already there is a pack affixed to my arm, flashing red lights. It’s giving me medicine, they said, which can help me heal from my weakness.

  I follow the purple warriors who beckon. My hands are bound loosely with magna-cuffs; there is enough slack to hold my water tube and lift it to my mouth. Not enough to fight, should I need to do so.

  Of course, surrounded by several powerful wa
rriors—armed—I’d stand no chance.

  Plus, I begged asylum. So I keep my pace to theirs, and go where they lead.

  * * *

  Drayk

  “How in the veck did she get onto our ship?” I run a hand over my jaw and scowl. “We have better protocol than that.” The beautiful human was nearly dead when I found her. A thought that makes me as angry as the security breach.

  “It was unexpected.” My second in command, Tarak, sighs. “The goods were unguarded for a few minutes during shift change. She must have used that time to get into the crate.”

  “And the motion sensors? The holo-feed?”

  He clears his throat. “Ah, it seems—disengaged temporarily.”

  “We can not let that happen again. If it were some other being, better armed?” I shake my head. “We must revisit our security training.”

  Ark, our security lead, drops his head. “I disengaged to avoid alarms during loading because”—he lifts his chin and meets my eyes—“I will ensure this never happens again. I swear it.”

  “Yes, you will.” I glare at him, then nod. A forgiveness and an expectation at the same time.

  I glance down the galley and turn to Tarak. “Do you believe her story?”

  “Even if it’s true that she stabbed you accidentally, she’s still lying about something.” He grimaces. “Human trait.”

  “I’m going to find out what it is,” I promise. “And then I’m going to teach her that humans begging asylum don’t lie to Zandians.” My cock hardens at the thought of punishing the lovely stowaway.

  “She could be a spy.”

  “It’s unclear why she would attack me. She was desperate to get away. That much rings true.”

  “She’s exquisite.” Ark, looks down the hall, as if trying to catch a glimpse of her. He’s not wrong—that perfect ebony skin, her gorgeous eyes and long lashes, her full, pretty lips? Yeah, she’s the prettiest vecking female I’ve ever seen. “And think of our luck—other crews go out and encounter danger and battle to obtain human females. Us? They come right to us, like magnets! Without any effort!” He chuckles. “If we stayed longer, maybe we’d have obtained two or three.”