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  The insult is too much.

  “I am no more a stripling than you are a qualified First!” I spit. “Your reasons for holding me back are clear to all with eyes. You fear me because you know I will challenge to lead our people. Challenge and win.”

  I am disappointed when he still does not heft his weapon. This confrontation has been building for too long, and I would see it done. But he is too crafty to lose himself to anger.

  Regar smiles coldly and addresses the others. “We will return to the village. Perhaps, in another moon, the gods will see fit to offer sign for Dekkar’s Proving.” His eyes glint when he turns them on me again. “Or perhaps they will not. Not all Vanthae are destined to be warriors… have you considered weaving baskets alongside the elders?”

  A roar of challenge rises in my throat, but it is cut short by a thunderous crash from just beyond the hills to the east. Within moments, a thin line of dark smoke streaks up toward the sky.

  “The gods grow impatient with us,” Regar says, moving to retreat the way we came. “Come now or do not come back at all.”

  Nax and Geleth fall in line behind Regar and, after a moment’s consideration, I do the same. What good would it do for me to challenge for leader now? I am not yet Proved, so my victory would be meaningless. No one from the tribe would follow me if I do not have a valid claim. The chaos would be worse than leaving Regar as our leader.

  Just as we breach the tree line back into the clearing, a thin, shrill sound issues from beyond the hill.

  “It sounds like a voice,” Nax says, cupping his ear to pull the sound.

  I cannot hear a voice in the noise, but Nax’s hearing cannot be questioned. I have witnessed him track a mud crawler by sound alone on a moonless night.

  “I think someone is in distress,” the younger man says, addressing his words to the First. “Maybe we should see if—”

  The blunt end of Regar’s spear flashes up, catching Nax just under his chin. The crunch of bone is deafening.

  “I have spoken!” Regar roars down at the bloodied stripling. “Question me again and you will feel the tipped end next time.” With that, he turns and resumes moving in the direction of our village, Geleth fast on his heels.

  I stick an arm out to Nax, and the young man pulls himself to his feet.

  “It sounds like the voice of a child.” Nax’s voice comes out muffled and clipped because of the damage done by Regar’s weapon.

  I study his pale yellow eyes for a few breaths. There is pain there, understandably. But more than anything else, I see worry and a desire to help the child in distress.

  The sentiment is easy to spot because I feel it as well.

  “Go along with the others,” I say, guiding Nax by the arm. “I will see what there is to see and offer my aid if they are worthy of it.”

  “But… Regar.” Nax’s eyes widen in fear. To betray the command of a leader is nearly unthinkable to one of his years.

  But he has much to learn.

  “Fuck Regar,” I say, setting off toward the fallen star.

  Chapter 3 – Talia

  “I thought Lisic said he wanted to help us…” Bailey’s knuckles are bone white as she grips the cables of her harness.

  “This is better than being shot out into space.” I have to raise my voice to be heard over the constant roar from outside the escape pod. “Marginally…”

  The view from the small round window set into the hatch is little better than looking through a child’s kaleidoscope. Black to orange, then orange to a deeper red threaded with wisps of white. If I didn’t know any better, I would think Lisic had launched us into the giant pocket of a circus clown.

  “I think I’m gonna puke,” Bailey says, her head lulling to one side.

  “Don’t you dare! If you puke, I’m going to puke.” Just the thought turns my stomach, and I have to suck in a few long breaths to keep from beating her to the punch.

  “How do you think the others are doing?” I ask, just to have something other than vomiting to focus on.

  “Probably better than me,” she answers. Her face has lost all of its color except for a few blotches of pink. “But does it matter? If we don’t all die on impact, we’ll probably get eaten by something as soon as we open the doors.”

  “Well, thanks for that happy little thought.”

  I wish there had been more time to understand what was going on. Lisic had marched us double-time to the escape pods, each of which was only big enough to hold two of us. His only words on the subject were quick and to the point—either he shoots us down to the nearest habitable planet, or he does as his commander instructed and shoots us out into the vacuum of space.

  The choice was pretty simple to make.

  The turbulence smooths out and, for a moment, it feels like we’re in free fall.

  “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  Bailey’s glassy eyes flit to mine. “My daddy always said it’s not the fall you have to worry about. It’s the big splat at the end.”

  Jeez, maybe it would be better to just sit in silence through this. I think she’s doing a better job of bringing me down than I am of cheering her up.

  A loud, grating klaxon blares out, and I come very close to losing yesterday’s ration of cat food.

  “Hold on!” I yell, like either of us has any choice in the matter.

  The big splat at the end, as Baily so eloquently put it, comes with a thunderous crash and a crunch to rival a highspeed car crash. But by some miracle of the alien’s technology, neither of us become smears on the ceiling.

  “I smell smoke,” Bailey says, unsnapping her harness and lifting it over her head.

  I not only smell smoke, but I can see the black tendrils filtering through from around the wall panels near the floor. And where there’s smoke…

  “We need to get the hell out of this thing.” I peel off my harness and shoot across the small pod to the hatch.

  “Wait.” Bailey’s hand moves across mine before I can pull the release lever on the door. “We don’t know what’s out there. I mean, it’s a completely alien world. Shouldn’t we try to find something to use as a weapon?”

  She’s right, but who knows how long it will be before this tiny craft fully engulfs in flames.

  I whip my head around, scanning every surface for something, anything, to use as a makeshift weapon. Finally, my eyes lock onto what looks like the door of a cubby about eye level behind one of the two benches.

  Bailey’s gaze follows mine, and she quickly moves to open the small compartment.

  “Let’s see… a bunch of little squares that look like condom packets.” She drops a handful of bright blue reflective squares to the floor. “Hold the phone!” She yanks out a medium length rod that’s about the same size and shape as an old-timey billy club. “This will do just fine.”

  She holds out the silver stick to me, her eyes darting back to the hatch with impatience.

  “Why should I be the one with the weapon?” I say, taking it from her.

  “Because I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

  “Oh, that… makes absolutely no sense.”

  Bailey throws the lever and pushes open the hatch, as though the matter is settled. The orangish light that pours into the pod is warm, and the air smells fresh and fruity.

  Maybe it’s because I spent a week on board an alien spaceship that smelled like stale grease and the body odor of nine other women, but this planet’s air seems like the best thing I’ve ever smelled in my life.

  “Wow, they could bottle this breeze and sell it as an air freshener back on Earth.” Bailey hops through the open hatch, and I press in behind her.

  Outside, the scenery is like something from Lord of the Rings. Our escape pod landed at the foot of a gentle hill covered in a thick green, moss-like substance. Large trees, or something like trees, with shiny green trunks line the upper edge of the hill. The sky is a deep crimson, outdoing even the most magical of Earth sunsets.

  “Well, it c
ould be worse—” I begin, but a look in Baily’s eyes causes my words to drop off.

  I follow the direction of her gaze until I see a small group of men lurking near several of the overturned trees barely a dozen yards from where we stand.

  Well, I say men, but maybe men-like creatures is a more appropriate label. The three beings stand upright light humans, but they slouch low with their arms hanging just above the earth. Each of their faces is covered with a strangely elaborate mask that makes them look like grotesque beasts with white eyes and icicle-like fangs.

  Bailey cringes back, but the smoke from the pod is already making it impossible to stand too close.

  “What the hell are they doing?”

  “I guess our arrival must have gotten their attention,” I say. As soon as my words are out, the tallest of the group begins to lope toward us. His gait is languid like a great cat stalking its prey.

  I don’t want to take my eyes from the group, but I spare a quick glance up the hillside. “I think we should try to climb—”

  Bailey’s shriek cuts off the rest of my words like a razor blade. I turn back just in time to see the first of the aliens dart out to grab at Bailey’s arm.

  How the fuck can anyone be that fast? They must have bolted toward us as soon as my head was turned.

  I grab Bailey and yank her back out of the beast man’s grasp with all my strength, but the hasty motion sends us both sprawling on our asses.

  “Stay back!” I scream, brandishing the metal rod out in front of me.

  The tall one lets out a guttural sound that’s like a mix between a lion’s roar and the vocalization of a gorilla. It sets my teeth on edge.

  The beast-man lunges again, this time catching Bailey by the arm and heaving her up off the ground.

  I swing the rod with all the strength in me.

  It connects with the side of the guy’s bare abdomen and sends a shock all the way back up my arm to the shoulder. It’s like whacking a brick wall with a baseball bat.

  With Bailey still flailing and shrieking in his arms, the tall beast guy pulls back without even glancing at me, seemingly completely unaware of my attack.

  With the apparent leader satisfied with his prize, the two other aliens slink in to fill the unoccupied space over me. I skitter back on my ass, pushing against the dirt with my hands and feet to get as far from the gruesome twosome as possible.

  It’s not nearly far enough.

  The bolder of the two swoops down to grab me. His iron grip pinches into my thigh but having to stoop for me puts his face at prime targeting range.

  I swing the rod straight down into the middle of his ugly-ass mask. Again, it’s like hitting concrete, but at least this time there is an effect.

  The creature lets out a howl of pain, as his mask snaps in half down the middle. The face revealed beneath isn’t any better than the mask itself. Two large, yellow eyes are set too close in the front of his face, making him look like some nightmarish owl-man. The lower part of his face is adorned with thumb-sized crowded teeth that protrude over his thin red lips in a snarl.

  Fuck… why couldn’t there have been a laser gun in our escape pod?

  Vaguely, I’m aware that I can no longer hear Bailey’s cries for help. Either the group’s leader has shut her up—which is not a comforting thought—or they’re already too far away for me to hear. No comfort there either.

  The beast men come at me as one this time, Broken Mask swooping in from my right, while the other guy comes from the left.

  I swing for the uninjured one, and Broken Mask uses that opportunity to push down on top of me. His odor, which could be more accurately be referred to as a stench, would be right at home wafting up out of a dumpster on a hot day.

  “Get the fuck off me!”

  It’s no use. The other guy wrenches the rod from my grip, as Broken Mask hoists me up and into his arms.

  I keep screaming. If these fuckers are going to take me, I’m not going to give them a single moment’s peace.

  I suck in another long breath for the screech to end all screeches. When I do, I see the beastie who took my weapon swing it into the air above my head.

  Shit. This is going to hurt.

  The rod peaks in the air, glinting in the red glow of the low sun, and everything seems to shift into slow motion. I watch as the strange man-creature’s biceps bulge with the effort of hammering the rod down toward me, I see the moment when the rod just begins to dip toward my skull, and I see the dark, glistening spike that erupts from just below the man’s sternum.

  For a moment, the man continues to swing the rod toward me, and I start to believe the strange spike sticking out of him is some alien appendage. But when he drops to the dirt like a heavy sack of flour, it becomes apparent the object was not meant to be inside his body.

  Broken Mask drops me unceremoniously to the ground next to the body of his fallen comrade. He and I look up the hill at the same time to see a large figure descending from the line of trees along the top ridge.

  I lie uselessly on the ground, unsure of what to do. On the one hand, the large dude on the hill just killed one of the guys trying to drag me off to fuck knows where. But on the other hand, this new guy looks like he could crush my skull between his fingers.

  As I watch his approach, it’s clear he’s much less beast-like than whatever species Broken Mask belongs to. The new guy holds himself upright like a military man from back on Earth—spine rigid and chin tilted back. But he certainly doesn’t have a uniform to speak of. The sweat on his bare chest shines in the dwindling red sunlight, making his massive muscles look like they’re painted on in high contrast.

  Honestly, if the situation weren’t so high-stakes, I wouldn’t mind watching him strut around the hillside for a while. He’s sexy as hell.

  Broken Mask tenses as the man gets nearer, his grotesque eyes flickering down to the spear protruding from the back of the other of his kind. In a flash, the smaller alien rips the weapon from the corpse and charges the approaching man with a blood-curdling roar.

  Chapter 4 – Dekkar

  My spear glides true through the air, finding the life node of the Valat and piercing it through. The ugly creature falls dead before it has time to understand what has happened.

  I stride down toward the other beast, catching a glimpse of the creature in distress for the first time.

  It is not a child. At least, it does not look like any child I have ever seen.

  I pause more than halfway to my quarry, the unexpectedness of the situation causing me to hesitate.

  Could this small creature—a female, I am certain—have fallen from the sky with the stars I saw before? If that is the case, there can only be one explanation—she is a Naia from the old tales of my people.

  As a child, I dismissed the fairy stories as fiction to entertain and dazzle the young. But here in front of me the evidence lies—a sky goddess made flesh. Her garb is strange to the point of being comical, with thin fabric covering nearly every inch of her body, but it does not mask her beauty from my eyes, nor the curves of her body beneath.

  Even from here I can see she is frightened and harried, but I cannot see any serious wounds. I watch as her small, pale eyes scan up the length of my body until they lock onto mine. There is depth and beauty there that I have never known—could never have imagined.

  There is also a fever in her eyes, an urgency. It is like she is trying to communicate with me through look alone.

  I concentrate until my whole world becomes those two pale blue gems. And, too late, I realize what she might be trying to tell me—what I have been too enraptured to notice.

  Only now am I aware of the Valat’s battle cry, long moments after it is over.

  The creature swings my spear lewdly and without technique, bringing the blade down against the meat of my thigh. The blow is strong but ill-formed, causing only a flesh wound. And the pain the comes to me is mostly from the embarrassment of allowing myself to become distracted from the fight
.

  “Yield and you will die more quickly, Valat.” The primitive creature cannot understand the civilized tongue, but it is only honorable to give it the choice.

  It rears back with another roar, swinging the spear out toward my face.

  I catch the spear’s shaft easily and turn it from the Valat’s hands. With its only advantage gone, the creature tries to turn and flea. It manages only a single step before I wrap my hand around its throat and hoist it into the air, bringing to eye level.

  “The sky goddess got her licks in on you,” I say, studying the thing’s broken mask and bloodied face. It flails uselessly in my grasp, reminding me of my task.

  With a flick of my hand, I snap the wretched creature’s neck and cast it down to the ground several strides from its dead comrade.

  I turn my gaze back to the sky goddess and continue my approach. There is a wariness in her eyes that mirrors that which I feel in my chest. To be this close to such a creature…

  In the tales, the warriors who come across the Naia invariably are asked to pledge their lives to the protection of the creature. Almost all of those warriors of tale die valiantly to protect that which is pure, and they do so with honor and pride. The few who do survive the ordeal set down by the goddess are rewarded with the ultimate prize. The goddess herself.

  I hesitate for a moment, only an arm’s length from the still dazed goddess. Her golden hair flows lightly in the wind, mesmerizing me with the depths of its magic.

  She coughs delicately, and I curse myself inwardly for forgetting to show proper decorum.

  I drop immediately to my knees and sink into the soft wae moss that coats the ground. My forehead brushes the cool ground, as I bow as low as I can.

  For many moments, the goddess makes no movement nor sound, and I fear I have not shown the proper respect. My body is adorned only with the paints of the hunt, not with the colors or attire appropriate for such a meeting as this.

  “Are you okay?” The goddess’s voice lilts out like soft music.

  I jerk back and stare at her, the shock too much for me to hide. “You speak the tongue of the Vanthae?”