Page 6 of Needed in the Night
The smoke cleared just enough to reveal the shape of the carrier and two bodies crumpled on the landing pad below the open cargo bay door: a pair of palace guards, their chests smoking. They must have fired on us from behind the landing struts before Ergin or one of the other crew members took them out. Three crew members stood in the cargo bay door, firing over our heads back in the direction of the palace.
The agony radiating through my back and chest made it difficult to think, so I grabbed one thought and held onto it:Get Novee on her feet and get on that ship.
My arms and legs shaking with pain and shock, I crawled to Novee.
“Get up.” I made it a command, though my voice was little more than a croak. “Come on. We’ve got to go.”
“Leave me,” she whispered. “I am not strong or brave like you, Halena.”
“Bullshit.” I gripped her thin arm and hauled her up with me as I rose. She could barely stand. “You’re plenty strong and brave,” I snapped. “You dance thirty meters in the air without fear. If you can do that, you can walk thirty steps and get on a gods-damned ship. I’ll drag you if I have to.”
She let out a ragged sob.
Plasma fire sizzled above our heads. Ducking, Novee and I half-ran, half-stumbled toward the ship’s one remaining ramp. The other had already been retracted in preparation for takeoff.
“Ergin,” I shouted, my voice muffled by my respirator. Damn thing was pointless now, so I pulled it off and tossed it over the side of the landing pad. “Come on!”
A volley of shots cut through the smoke from the direction of the palace. A searing bolt of plasma sliced through the upper right arm of my coverall, leaving a streak of fire across my bicep.
My cry of pain startled Novee. She tripped and almost fell. Cursing, I dragged her forward. Only a handful of steps to go.
A winged shadow with a pair of shining eyes swooped down in front of us.
“The Erotovo and his guards are behind you,” Brae said, his voice raspy, maybe from inhaling the smoke. “Run.”
Novee tried to backpedal from my shadowbat, but I tightened my grip on her arm and kept her moving toward the ship.
“DANCER!” The Erotovo’s enraged bellow rolled across the palace cargo port. Novee cringed as if he were beside us with a hand raised to strike her.
Another volley of plasma fire cut across the landing pad. These shots hit the surface in front of us, obviously intended to get us to stop rather than cut us down.
“Your name is notDancer,” I hissed when Novee seemed frozen. “Come on. Forget him.”
I pushed her ahead of me and glanced over my shoulder. The smoke had cleared enough for me to see the centaurian Erotovo and a dozen of his personal guards pursuing us, running on all four stocky legs. The guards held rifles.
“Stop, thief!” the Erotovo commanded, his face flushed. His eyes blazed with fury as they locked on my face. “Halena Onsulus, I will hunt you down across the galaxy for this crime!”
Realization dawned: he actually thought I wasstealingNovee rather than rescuing her. Truly, the Erotovo couldn’t think in any way other than as an abuser.
With a curse, Ergin stopped and turned to face the Erotovo and his entourage. She planted her feet, braced herself, and began firing, sending the Erotovo and his men scrambling for cover. “Go!” she shouted over her shoulder at us.
The finality in her voice turned my stomach to lead. Oh, no. No, no,no. I couldn’t let Ergin sacrifice herself for us. There had to be another way—therehadto be.
I got Novee to the ship’s ramp and shoved her as hard as I could toward the crew members coming down to meet us. “Take her,” I shouted as Novee stumbled into one’s arms. “And throw me a weapon.”
The rest of the crew continued firing back at the Erotovo and his guards. But instead of giving me a plasma rifle, the two Ymarians who’d met us grabbed Novee and me and dragged us up the ramp.
The engines powered up, sending a blast of energy and displaced air across the landing pad. The sound of the engines drowned out all other noise, including the weapons fire behind us.
My rage and panic gave me strength despite the agony of my wounds. I fought to free myself. “No! Let me go back for Ergin!”
“She is gone,” one of the Ymarians grated, tightening their grip on my arm. They were far stronger than they looked. “There is nothing to go back for.”
I twisted around to look behind me.
Ergin, or what was left of her, lay in a heap on the landing pad. Anger and grief sliced through my insides like a scythe. The cry that came out of my mouth was so guttural that it didn’t sound human.
“It was fast,” the other Ymarian crew member said, their voice strangely distant as if they were speaking to me down a long tunnel. “She did not suffer.”
