The Nightshade's Touch: A Paranormal Space Fantasy (Messenger Chronicles Book 3) Read online

  “Too many,” Kellee replied. He turned and scanned the nonresponsive crowd. “Can you play them back to life?”

  “I don’t even know how I did… this…” She dropped the violin. It clattered to the stage at her feet. “My music doesn’t hurt people. I don’t hurt people.”

  Until now, I thought.

  We couldn’t move them all, not in time.

  I watched my friend’s face crumble. “It’s not you, Hulia. It’s Faerie. Something in the wine must have left them susceptible to your song—more than usual.” I jumped down, wove through the crowd to Arran, and gently shook him. He didn’t wake.

  “Why do… this?” She lifted her hands, and I knew what was going through her head. Had they gotten to her too? Made her play at the right time?

  “They want them alive,” Kellee growled. “Unharmed.”

  They’re harvesting them. My eyes met Kellee’s. We couldn’t save them. Even if we could reach our shuttle, it only fit a handful of passengers. Talen might be able to save them with his warcruiser. If he had seen the fae approach, there was a chance he was on his way, but we couldn’t wait.

  “You have to leave,” Hulia said. “There’s a basement exit. Hurry.”

  Kellee scooped Arran over his shoulder, and we reached the basement as the door above exploded open. Hulia lifted a hatch in the floor.

  I remembered another time, just like this one, when she had saved Kesh Lasota who’d been on the run from Calicto authorities a lifetime ago.

  Kellee carried Arran into the tunnel. I dropped down after him and reached up for Hulia.

  “I did this,” she said, expression remorseful. She glanced behind her.

  “No, Hulia, don’t go back. They’ll take you too.”

  When she looked down, her mouth hardened with determination. “I can’t leave these people alone at their mercy.”

  I should have been the one saving them. I was their messenger, wasn’t I? But I didn’t see how we could survive hundreds of fae, and if their ship was a warcruiser, we didn’t stand a chance.

  “This isn’t the time to take a stand,” Kellee said from behind me. “We run today and fight tomorrow.”

  He was right, but it didn’t change the fact that I should be taking Hulia’s place. Wasn’t that what good people did?

  “I’ll be all right.” She smiled for my benefit. “I’m namu. There’s nothing they can do to me that they haven’t already done,” she said, sounding so much like saru. She began lowering the hatch.

  “Wait—”

  “Go, friend.” Shouts sounded behind her. “I’ll see you again soon.”

  The hatch closed, shutting her and the rest of the colony away and plunging me and Kellee into darkness. Kellee’s warm hand found mine, and he led me into the dark.

  The tunnel twisted and turned, eventually spitting us out high up on a hillside a long way from the huddled colony buildings. A hot wind, spiced with magic, blasted over us the second we stepped outside. We hunkered down behind a mound of rocks, shielded from sight. Above the scattering of colony buildings, a fae warship hung low in the churning sky. Colored light flashed along its undercarriage, washing the entire area in an eerie green hue.

  Kellee propped Arran up against a boulder and peered into Arran’s unseeing eyes. “It’s Benrin’s Spite,” he said.

  I’d heard of it. It was among the fae’s many magical poisons, used to steal their victim’s will, making them obedient puppets.

  “It’s not as potent on the skin, but when consumed it can pack a nasty punch. He should come around soon.” Kellee shifted position and crouched beside me. The greenish light from the ship reflected in his eyes as he scanned the scene below.

  My attention lingered on Arran. When he came around, would he demand to go back down there? Aeon’s fight had been taken out of him, but Arran had a reckless wildness. He wouldn’t react well to us abandoning the colony. I’d deal with it once he was awake. Or Kellee would. Arran didn’t dare cross the lawman.

  “There’s some activity,” Kellee said.

  The warship had landed. A flight of soldiers had formed a line leading from the ship’s ramp to the building we had been dancing in. How quickly things changed.

  A single fae marched toward the colony building where a string of people was filing out one by one like mindless puppets.

  Kellee crouched lower. “Sidhe lord.”

  Sidhe was a collective name the higher families gave to themselves, separating them from the fae riffraff and granting them godlike status among fae-kind. Most made up the court, but others kept out of courtly politics. Some vanished altogether, prefering the wilds of Faerie to the company of their own kind.

  I squinted into the wind to get a clear view of the lord. “Can you describe him?” Kellee’s eyesight was better than mine in low light.

  “Red hair. He’s wearing dark earth-colored clothing.”

  “Autumnlands.” Unlike Winterlands, they weren’t quick to anger and didn’t make rash decisions. Their strength and determination made them excellent allies and devastating foes. I only knew of a handful who regularly attended Mab’s court. Most stayed away from politics.

  “I don’t see any markings, but he’s well covered beneath a hood. He’s armed.” Kellee’s focus sharpened. “With… steel?”

  Only four fae were permitted metal weapons at court.

  Kellee must have caught the hitch in my breath. He glanced my way, suspicion knotting his brow. “You know him?”

  I tried to get a better look, but all I saw was a tall fae dressed in dark clothing. “Not all fae are averse to metal. To tek, yes. But some wield forged steel. I know of only four who do, and all are Oberon’s personal guards.”

  “A guardian?” Kellee asked.

  I nodded. In antiquity, the guardians had served the queen, but Oberon had made them his long before my birth. It was one of the reasons Mab had agreed to let me stand beside her when Oberon so kindly suggested I become her guardian. She had argued that a true Faerie queen should not need a personal guard, but she’d taken me on to humor her son.

  “What, by-cyn, is he doing out here?” Kellee asked.

  “If he is a guardian, he’s not here for the people.”

  “He’s here for us.”

  More specifically, me. It was no mistake that Oberon had sent that particular guardian here. The red hair, the sword—he had to be Sirius. Sirius and I had a history.

  I might have looked away if Hulia hadn’t walked out of the colony building with enough sass in her stride to have the flight of soldiers uncomfortably shifting their aims.

  Kellee mumbled, “They’ll kill her,” followed by, “Where the fuck is Talen?”

  They wouldn’t kill Hulia. Namu were sought after. She had worth. They would make her sing, and dance, and love. Some of the best namu were priceless possessions, Hulia included.

  She strode up to Sirius, so much smaller than him but carrying enough confidence to look like the one in control. Maybe she didn’t know who he was because, had she known, she would have dropped to her knees. Instead, they seemed to be having a conversation, though they could equally have been just staring at each other. I couldn’t tell from this distance, but Kellee watched them keenly, either reading their lips or listening. While they faced off, the colonists shuffled up the ramp and out of sight.

  “She’s insane,” Kellee murmured.

  I was about to ask why, when Sirius’s hand shot out and clamped around Hulia’s neck. The guardian lifted the namu clean off her feet. She kicked uselessly at the air.

  Kellee’s warning growl sparked my internal rage. Not long ago, I wouldn’t have cared. I would have blamed her for speaking out, for defying them, but things were different. I was different. Hulia had only ever tried to help people. The Boot had been a sanctuary in a part of Halow the rest of the system had all but forgotten. But more than that, she was my friend, and I’d learned there were few things worth more than friendship in these dark days.

  All I ha
d to do was walk down there and trade myself in for her. Maybe, if I did that, they would all be safe. The people too. And I saved people now. I was the Messenger.

  “Don’t,” Kellee warned.

  I ignored him and gripped the rock, ready to push to my feet.

  “Kesh.”

  “I have to.”

  Sirius threw Hulia to the ground.

  I shot to my feet but somehow got turned around, and before I could right myself, I had my back against the rock and all of Marshal Kellee in my face. “Use your sense. I know you have some. You can’t save her.”

  He had his hand fisted in my coat, pinning me down. I grabbed his wrist and tried to shove him back, but it was like pushing against a wall. “Get your hands off me, Marshal.”

  Frustration flashed in Kellee’s green eyes. “This is exactly what he wants. He knows Hulia’s connected to us. He probably knows we’re watching. He wants you to do something stupid, exactly like this. Stop acting their tool and think for yourself.”

  His words stung. “I’m not their tool.”

  “Prove it.” He shoved off me and went back to watching over the rock.

  I twisted and saw the flick of Sirius’s cloak as he disappeared inside the warship. Hulia was nowhere in sight. The people had all filed inside, and now the flights were spreading out to investigate the abandoned buildings. My chance to do something, anything, had passed. The fae had captured the colony and Hulia, and I’d watched it happen.

  Among it all sat our shuttle, surrounded by fae. We weren’t getting off Hapters anytime soon.

  “That anger you feel,” Kellee said, “shape it into a weapon worthy of the people’s Messenger.”

  My insides squirmed like the time I’d been caught pickpocketing a fae lord. They’d whipped me for that. But here, now, Hulia had paid the price.

  Kellee had to be right. Every. Damn. Time. Part of me hated him for that, but a larger part of me reluctantly thanked the know-it-all marshal for stopping me from rushing in with no real plan—besides throwing myself at their mercy.

  “We can’t stay here.” He scooped up Arran and plunged into the brush.

  I lingered a few moments, watching the fae pour through the colony in search of stragglers and us. I was getting Hulia back. I would save those people. And Sirius would feel the bite of my whip. Because Kellee was right. I was the people’s Messenger. And this was war.

  Chapter 2

  Acres and acres of burned farmland lay like blackened scars across the undulating landscape. We’d crossed the plains during Hapters’s cooler, darker hours, but with the planet’s two moons watching over us, the night here wasn’t dark so much as varying shades of gray.

  We could do nothing to hide the trail our passing left in the ash but hope the wind picked up and covered our tracks.

  When Arran began to stir, we veered off our path into an abandoned stone cabin. Its squat profile blended in with the landscape. For now, it would serve as a shelter, but we had to keep moving. The fae were looking for us.

  Kellee left Arran on a dusty couch and tucked himself against the wall near the window overlooking the track, and there he stayed, eyes glued to the horizon. With his vakaru eyes he had a better chance at spotting movement long before I could.

  I drifted about the cabin, checking for weapons, but found none. Whoever had lived here had cleared out anything of use weeks ago, likely right after the fae reappeared and scorched everything human in their path.

  Arran startled awake. His attention locked on me first, read me as friendly, and then snagged on Kellee’s silhouette by the window. At the sight of the marshal, Arran’s expression locked down.

  “You’re safe,” I told him, crouching beside the couch.

  “What is this place?” He sat up and swayed, reaching for the back of the cushions to steady himself.

  “Farmhouse.” I caught his hand and hauled him onto his feet. “You were drugged.”

  His fingers squeezed mine. Just a thankful squeeze, but a barbed twist of betrayal knotted inside me, because he trusted me, and out of everyone, he was the one who shouldn’t. I plucked my hand from his, drawing that line between us. He didn’t seem to notice my brush-off as he hunched forward, bracing his hands on his thighs.

  “Drugged?” he croaked, running his hands down his face to clear away the grogginess.

  “Kellee thinks the fae knew we would be there. They probably had an enthralled human spike the drinkbowl with Benrin’s Spite to smooth their arrival.”

  “Benrin’s Spite?”

  Aeon would have recognized the poison. I smiled sadly. “It takes away your will. Makes you compliant.”

  Arran winced and grumbled in disgust. He straightened and sighed but was already shrugging off the weariness. “It didn’t affect you?”

  “Had I touched it or consumed any of it, it would have.” And that had been a close call. Just one touch and I would have been on Sirius’s ship, probably halfway back to Faerie by now. Too close a call. We needed to be more careful. Coming here, to the party, had been a mistake.

  Arran threw his head back and cast his gaze to the ceiling. His throat moved as he swallowed and the old scar bobbed. “The others got out?” His gaze fell on me.

  “The fae have them.”

  His notrils flared. “You left them?”

  I spotted Kellee’s cursory glance our way. The marshal likely wondered if he needed to get involved. I ignored him and faced Arran’s accusations. “We didn’t have a choice,” I explained, keeping my tone level. “There were too many—”

  “You just left them there?”

  What did he want from me? “Kellee said—”

  Arran swung his accusing glare to the marshal. “And now we’re hiding?” He staggered to his feet. “We have a warcruiser, an attack drone, a vakaru and the Messenger, and we’re hiding in a shed while the fae do cyn-knows-what with those people?”

  Kellee poked his tongue into his cheek and raised an eyebrow. “You wanna go back there with no plan and get yourself killed, kid, go right ahead.”

  “I never thought you were a coward, Marshal.” The weight of his lawman title held a whole load of accusations. Marshals helped people. At least, that was how it was supposed to be. A flash of indignant fire sparked in Kellee’s eyes, threatening to turn their color.

  Holy cyn, Arran did not just call a vakaru a coward.

  “That’s enough!” I snapped. I yanked on Arran away from whatever argument he was determined to start with Kellee.

  Kellee’s superheated glower tracked us across the room.

  Arran yanked his arm from my grip. “Did you put up a fight?” he asked, voice lowered. He didn’t know Kellee could still hear every word.

  Faerie save me from impulsive males. I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, counting to five, and pushed my fingers against my closed eyelids. I could see why Kellee had stopped me from rushing in, and now I was trying to talk Arran down. Opening my eyes, I offered my friend a soft smile. His confusion softened and something of Arran’s warmth returned. “You were out cold. We were outnumbered. No, we didn’t put up a fight. We got out alive, and today, that counts as a victory.”

  “We ran away?”

  “Sometimes running away is surviving. You know this.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. He didn’t know anything.

  He spread his hands against the wall and bowed his head. I waited for him to point out my mistake, but instead, he looked up. “They’ll be tracking us.”

  “Yes.”

  He shrugged. “So, where’s Talen?”

  That was the ever-present question. Talen had a warcruiser that could swallow a moon and he had Sota, who I’d left charging on his dock, and the three of us were hiding in a shed, as Arran had so accurately summarized.

  I cast my gaze across the room to Kellee.

  He shrugged. “He’s your fae.” Implying I should know where Talen was at all times. Talen and I were bonded, but right now, all that internal electric sensation
told me was that Talen was alive.

  He should have been here by now. All it would take was the sight of the warcruiser in orbit to make Sirius back down. The guardian’s warship was half the size. So where in Faerie’s three systems was my silver fae pilot?

  “We can’t wait for Talen.” I wanted to believe Talen had our backs, but even after all the recent revelations, I felt as though I knew him less than when we first met. “We need to find a ship and get off Hapters. We can signal Talen’s ship once we’re off the planet. Back on the warcruiser, we can turn this fight around.”

  Arran pushed away from the wall. “All right. So we need to find an outpost that would have housed transport ships. A place that was abandoned when the population evacuated?”

  “Kellee?” I asked. The marshal knew these backwater planets better than either of us.

  “There’s a town a few klicks north,” he drawled, turning his attention back to the landscape outside the window. “It’ll take us a day to get there on foot and there’s no guarantee there will be anything of worth to find. But, two days’ walk east, there’s a salvage yard and a landing strip.” He hesitated a fraction too long before saying, “There will be vessels there, but anything left behind will need repair work.”

  When he looked over, his expression carried more than the usual lawman mask. The tightness at the corner of his mouth, the smallest narrowing of his eyes. Arran didn’t yet know him well enough to see it, but I did. Kellee was worried.

  “Repair work isn’t a problem, so long as it’s standard tek.” I knew tek, and Arran had picked up his old tek habits quickly enough despite losing his Aeon memories. Muscle memory had stuck with him, hence the dancing and his gladiatorial skills and probably a slew of other things yet to be revealed.

  “The yard it is,” Arran said, striding for the door.

  Kellee watched him pass before catching my eye. “The yard,” I agreed. “Hopefully, once Talen shows up, we won’t need it.”

  Kellee’s frown silently corrected, If Talen shows up.

  We left the cabin far behind and walked along the fence lines sectioning off enormous patchwork fields. Kellee hung back, watching our tail, while Aeon was a whisper in the grass ahead.