11 - The Forbidden Mountains
Jàden bitterly let go of the door frame. Chase the living, not the dead, and yet she needed to understand why no one answered the distress call and how her zankata became emblazoned on the starship.
While she hadn’t expected Kale to pop out of a room, there had to be something here. A clue to lead her to him.
Ducking under Jon’s arm, she dug through the pilot’s pockets for a datapad, something she could take with her. At this point, she’d even settle for a gun in case someone tried to shoot her with an arrow again.
“Jàden, we need to leave.” Jon’s tone was so calm.
A surge of irritation gripped her. He didn’t understand how important her task was. If she lingered too long on Sandaris, the Flame could cause serious damage.
She slammed her fists on the console. “I have to find Kale.”
The lights flickered, and the HUD disappeared.
“No, dammit, not again,” she said.
Diving back into the navigator seat and buckling in seemed like a good idea, except the ship wouldn’t have access to the life archives. She’d need a datapad and the right access codes, or she’d have to be back on board the ship.
Jàden refused to give up and dashed into the corridor, slanting upward toward the tail fin. She yanked open drawers and cabinets, slowly moving aft as she searched for a med-kit, a gun, anything that might help. But someone had been here long before her. Shelves and drawers laid bare except for a layer of dust.
“Dammit.” She slammed the last cabinet shut. Maybe she’d have better luck in the cargo bay.
But Mather blocked her path. “I wouldn’t go back there.”
As he gestured something toward Jon, she rushed past and stumbled into a cargo hold filled with glass cages. Skeletons slumped in the corners, each one alone and trapped between four panes of transparent shield glass.
“No!” Jàden rushed to the closest cell and slammed the glass. “Open the doors—”
Jon grabbed her arm. “I’m getting you out of here.”
“No, they need help.” Jàden squirmed in his grasp.
“They’re dead.”
The ice in his tone seemed to rip a blindness from her as she screamed, “Let them out!”
But they were all dead, from starvation or suffocation long after her own imprisonment.
Jon’s features were tight with worry. “The dead are in their graves. Let them stay there. Ain’t no good gonna come if we linger here.”
Jàden’s gaze stayed glued to the death cages long after they disappeared behind a closed door, her chest so tight she could barely breathe.
Thunder rumbled in the sky as they stepped onto the platform.
Mather palmed the door closed. “This place holds nothing but death. You’re safer with us.”
“Don’t you get it? I’m not safe anywhere. Those people…”
She couldn’t stop thinking of the pilot. Why had someone in maintenance kept people in cages? Any empathy Jàden had minutes ago for the dead pilot shattered under the weight of what she’d seen. Wringing her hands, she glanced once more at the ship, her zankata—Kale’s symbol of safety—painted on the death trap. “All of this is wrong. Kale would never lead me into death.”
And yet the doubt settled in her heart as she turned away to a snow-bound landscape. Even the universe taunted her, death in a cage and a world of white.
“I’ll never get home, will I?” she whispered.
Jon leaned toward her ear. “Wherever we ride, that’s your home now.”
Easy for him to call the road home. Jàden shouldered him away and retreated down the ladder. She didn’t want this to be her home. The stars called to her from beyond the bionet, a life of peace in a sea of glimmering jewels.
Mather would return to his home, his wife, and she’d be left with nothing.
And Jon… As he slid down the ladder to land beside her, he too had no home but the road under his feet. They were a pair, two lost souls with nothing but a mission. He, to find his men, and her, to reunite with Kale.
As Mather hit the ground and met her gaze, his words came rolling back through her head. When I’m gone, it’ll be up to you to take care of him.
She cursed under her breath and retreated to the horses. Jon could take care of himself—he didn’t need her.
Jàden tried to climb into the saddle, but was still too weak to do more than stand in the stirrups. Jon lifted her onto the stallion’s back, she grabbed the reins and scooted forward. She didn’t want to be along for the ride anymore. She still needed to find Kale. Not only because she loved him but because he was a damn good pilot. Someone needed to fly her away from this place.
Jon climbed on behind her without a word, nudging his horse onto the road with his heels.
With a final glance at the nadrér’s tail fin, Jàden tried to suppress the anger in her heart. Her zankata painted on a graveyard. It seemed fitting somehow that she’d only find true safety in death.
“Nothing you could have done for those people, Jàden.”
The scent of Jon’s cigarette’s smoke wove into her senses, but it did not calm her unease. “They died in cages, under my emblem. The sooner I get off this world, the better.”
Snow fell furiously as they trotted along the road, a blanket of white surrounding them on all sides. Jàden tried to force back the grief, stifling it under her need for Kale.
But Jon didn’t make it easy to keep her thoughts focused. As fatigue hit him, he slid one strong arm around her waist, his head dropping against his chest to nap.
His soft breath wove a spell through her senses as she clenched the reins tighter. She’d slept near him for weeks each time they’d stopped for the night, but now it was like they were curled together in the same blanket.
“If he’s too heavy, wake his ass up.” Mather’s features softened as he nudged Agnar closer.
“Let him rest.” It was about all she could do and not be useless to them. She turned back for one last look at the ship, but it was already gone in a sea of white. “Those soldiers, how far will they follow us?”
“They should have stopped weeks ago. Something don’t feel right about it, but the others will keep the captain safe.”
His eyes lost their focus again as Jàden nudged the horse into a gallop. It was too easy to get lost in the pain on Mather’s face. His wife was still alive and only a season’s ride north while she had easily three times that distance to travel. It would be easier with a ship, even one as small as a scout craft, but it simply wasn’t something she could count on anymore.
Her stomach tingled as Jon grumbled in his sleep and leaned into her head.
“Jon,” she whispered, pushing him back with her good shoulder.
He tightened his grip on her waist and mumbled into her ear, “I’m awake.”
“About time.” Mather smacked his shoulder. “Should be at that village in a few hours.”