Destiny's Blood (2 page)

“I’d have announced my presence sooner, but I was enjoying your singing,” Josmere said with a slight grin, her eyes searching out Layela’s.

“Why don’t I believe your showing up here is a coincidence?” Layela snapped, walking towards the cash register to tally the day’s sales.

Josmere’s confusion did nothing to calm Layela. “What do you mean, coincidence?”

Layela shook her head, not willing to play along. She used to, when she was younger and more stupid. She had also once convinced herself that her sister would give up thieving, and that her powers of vision could be of use.

But not this time. She wanted nothing to do with whatever scheme they were involved in. She just wanted Josmere to leave and never come again. To leave her in peace with her flowers and satisfaction, without interference, without intrigue and without illegal activities. Visions tugged at her mind, refusing to show themselves but refusing to stay silent.

“Where’s Yoma?” Josmere finally asked.

Layela looked up, disbelief pulsing through her like venom. But the green eyes looking back at her were sincere and lined with concern. If nothing else, after being tricked so often, Layela had learned how to tell when Josmere and Yoma were lying. They hadn’t always excluded her, after all. Layela had been hurt badly a few years ago, and it had taken her months to recover. Ever since then, her sister and Josmere had been secretive, as though her protection relied on her knowing less.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Layela asked, her voice rising. “She left this morning without a word, and I haven’t seen her since. And now you’re here? Come on, Josmere, you can’t expect me to believe that you don’t know anything about this!”

“I was supposed to meet her here today,” the Berganda responded, her head shaking her loose hair back and forth, intensity dripping from every word. “Here. Now. She’s supposed to be here, Layl.”

“What were you two planning that’s so important?” Layela demanded. In all of the years that she, her sister and Josmere had survived together, never once had she known Yoma and Josmere to miss a set meeting. It was a practice that had saved their lives on more than one occasion.

Josmere shrugged and focused on some Booknot plants. They were well known for their sentient qualities, and were by far her favourite type of plant life. As a Berganda, Josmere had the ability to communicate telepathically with others from her race and with certain types of plant.

“They’re very happy here,” Josmere said, smiling at the plants. Layela resisted the urge to hit the woman in the back of the head. She had tried that too, once, and had learned that Josmere was not as weak as she looked.

“You can have them, if you’d like,” Layela said, keeping her hands busy rearranging some blue flowers with rotating hearts. “It’s illegal to sell them in these parts, since they’re sentient, but I had to buy them when some smugglers brought them in. The poor things needed a lot of care. Kind of like a Berganda would, were she to be beaten up by her friend.”

Josmere ignored Layela’s sarcastic comment, making Layela even angrier. “I think they’re fine here,” Josmere looked around the shop some more, her careful steps telling Layela that she was deciding what to do next.

Josmere stopped before some blooms kept in a locked glass case.

“Pomboms? You keep Pomboms in your shop?” Josmere asked, shooting an incredulous look at Layela, who simply shrugged.

“They’re safe enough behind the glass, and in another two nights they won’t be explosive anymore. They’ll bloom beautifully and sell well.” Josmere shot her a grin and continued looking around. Layela felt her patience dripping faster than the ink from the pen with which she was tallying sales.

Layela sighed. There was no use pushing for information, and if she kept Josmere close, then chances were she would see Yoma again soon. And then she could beat them both up.

Three loud knocks sounded on the protective outside metal door, scattering her thoughts.

Josmere reacted instinctively and was beside the door in moments, looking through a small window.

“Josmere, we’re not on the streets anymore,” Layela said, annoyed. “Normal people don’t do that. They open the door.”

“They don’t look friendly to me,” Josmere whispered, backing away out of sight. Layela sighed and opened the door, making sure not to show any hesitation to Josmere. Over. It was over, this life of running and hiding. It was why they had founded
Sunrise Flowers
 
—
 
to mark the beginning of a new life. She had never before thought that she might have to pursue her dream alone. She clutched the side of the door, fighting the hollowness in her stomach.

Three men stood in the doorway. One, she guessed, was a government official, dressed in an expensive suit with an air to match it, fatigue plastered in the dark rims under his eyes and in the sparse growth of his beard. He jingled keys in his hands. The two others were marked by dark smoky uniforms and a sun symbol. Layela swallowed hard. Solarian soldiers had full jurisdiction on Collar.

She forced herself to keep her ground, her feet aching with the need to back up, to move, to run away. Every encounter she had ever had with Solarian soldiers had not been pleasant.

“Layela Delamores?” the government official asked, flashing his badge at her. Layela barely had the time to read his name, Coyal something or other, from the Ministry of Solarian Defence.

She smiled and nodded. She was not a criminal. She was a business owner. A flower shop owner. There was no need to act like anything else.

“May I see your Interplanetary Passport?”

No introduction, no hellos. It seemed like an arrest, but all they wanted was to see her passport, and the soldiers were not holding their guns. Not yet, anyway. Layela walked back towards the counter, her hands in plain sight and every step paced so as not to give the two soldiers any reason to believe she posed a threat. The two soldiers walked into the shop, their footsteps soft but still echoing on the clean floor. They followed her closely, their black and grey uniforms invading her peripheral vision on both sides, and she fought the urge to hunch her back.

Josmere was nowhere in sight, for which Layela was grateful. Although she doubted they would be interested in a petty thief this late in the day, she preferred not to find out.

Carefully, Layela reached into the drawer, pushing aside some papers to reach her digital passport. She recognized it by touch, its smooth cover cool and reassuring.

Yoma had insisted for a long time that they simply acquire fake passports, which would cost them less and be easier. But Layela had argued otherwise. She wanted to begin anew, and the passport was the first step to gaining that freedom. A nice, simple, legal step.

The government official snatched the passport from her hands, and Layela counted her blessings that she had insisted on the legal proceedings. The man was becoming more annoying with each passing second, like a slowly inflaming bug bite. He made a raw sound in his throat.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to confiscate this,” the man said, his mouth speaking the words regretfully where his eyes only spoke boredom. Another assignment completed, another day over.

“Why?” Layela asked, stunned.

“You are forbidden from leaving this planet,” the man continued, ignoring her question, jingling his keys again. “You are forbidden from communicating with anyone off-planet, and you are forbidden from doing business on Collar until further notice.”

“What do you mean?” Layela asked, her voice rising, her face and neck flushed with anger. They couldn’t do this! What right did they have to do this?
And why?

Yoma
. The word sliced through every other thought, her anger growing deeper. Her sister had done something. Something stupid and illegal, and they had traced her back to Layela. If her sister wanted to throw everything away, fine, but couldn’t she keep Layela out of it for once?

“I mean that you are basically under arrest, simply not in jail.” He prolonged each syllable, as though he spoke to a child. He even stopped jingling his keys, to ensure she could hear him perfectly. “At least, not until we receive proper reason to put you there.”

“But I’ve done nothing wrong!” Layela’s voice resonated in the shop. “If I can’t open for business, how am I supposed to pay for it? I need to sell to survive!”

The man simply shrugged, and turned toward the door.

“Wait!” she called after them, walking towards the men. The soldiers blocked her, their hands travelling towards their guns.

She raised her hands to appease them.

“I just need to know why you’re doing this,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm. “I need to know how I can help you clear this up faster.”

The government official didn’t even stop as he called over his shoulder. “You can’t.”

Backing away, the soldiers exited. As the door closed she could hear the jingling of keys.

Stunned, she didn’t even notice when Josmere came out of the shadows
and stood beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Layl,” Josmere said, but Layela barely heard her. She wondered what her sister had done now, and how much it would cost her.

C
HAPTER
2

L
ayela fidgeted with the piece of paper. She set it down, grabbed a watering can and walked toward the ferns. The plants were a perfect burgundy and perky, but Layela poured water in their earth regardless. She looked back at the piece of paper. Maybe there was another way.

Water splashed on her foot and she backed up, sighing.
I needed to clean the floors anyway.

She set the watering can on the counter, resisted the urge to stay there, and headed to the back, running a hand over Mama Knot’s giant leaves and inventorying the plants in her head. What should she order next? Did it even matter now? With a firm hand she grabbed the mop and walked back into the store, cleaning her floors carefully. She considered waxing them too, but she knew she was stalling. Instead, she stopped in front of the counter, leaning the mop against it.

The tremble in her fingers threatened to rip the paper when she picked it up, and she forced her hands to steady. She set it down on the counter again, grabbed for the watering can and turned back towards the ferns, only remembering that she had already watered them when she saw the droplets still trickling onto the floor. She set the can down and grabbed the shears instead. Only the Growall plants had the constitution and speedy growth to withstand her current care. She hacked at them, feeling the page tug at her heart.

We always take care of each other, Layl
.

She reached deep within the plant and hacked, her cutters sticky with sap, leaves and orange flowers littering the floor around her feet. Even the Growall couldn’t take much more of this abuse. Layela lowered the cutters to the floor and sat in the middle of the orange blooms, their musky scent filling her nostrils.

Picking one up, she outlined each petal with her fingers, imagining it withering in time. Like so many other things.

“We do always take care of each other, Yoma,” she whispered, anger fading from her as she spoke the words, a mantra she’d repeated since early childhood.

She felt tears well in her eyes as she thought of all the care and dreams that had gone into the forging of
Sunrise Flowers
, but she thought of her sister, who might be in trouble and in need of help, and the tears were gone as quickly as they had come. Yoma was all she had, really
 
—
 
and Josmere too, though the Berganda had chosen not to follow them in their flower shop endeavour. And this way she knew
Sunrise Flowers
would still be here, waiting for her and Yoma’s safe return, harbouring their hopes in its old walls and radiant blooms.
It’s only temporary
, she thought, her feet cold as she donned her old boots.
Just temporary.

“I couldn’t find out anything,” Josmere called from the back as she entered through the storage area. “No word on Yoma, no word on why you’re such a hot item right now, nothing at all. But I’m guessing she’s not on Collar anymore. No one could hide that well from me!”

Josmere rounded the corner and stopped. Layela knew how she must look, sitting on the floor and surrounded by her chopped masterpiece. Raising an eyebrow, the Berganda reached behind the counter and grabbed the broom.

“Don’t take it personally,” Layela said as she stood up, “but I do like taking my frustrations out on plant life.”

Josmere looked at her in shock before her face broke out in a grin. Although Josmere still seemed to be hiding something from her, Layela had to admit that the familiar face brought her great comfort. Especially considering what she had to do next.

She forced her legs to take her to the counter. Josmere recounted some of her searches as Layela swept; all of them led nowhere, not even to more questions. The Berganda’s voice rose and fell again as her tale took her back through her frustrations.

“I did get you the stuff you asked for,” Josmere said. She threw out the rest of the cuttings and, after wiping her hands on her pants, handed Layela a small envelope.

Layela looked inside: a new passport with a fake identity, and identification cards to match. Everything she needed to get off the planet.

“Thanks Josmere,” Layela whispered, pocketing the envelope and picking up the document she had fidgeted with most of the day.

Without a word she handed it to Josmere, who took it without question. The moment it was out of her grasp, Layela wished she could hold it again and fidget with it until it was well worn and illegible.

“Oh Layl, I can’t!” the Berganda whispered, her eyes widening as she read. The document was a clear contract, stating that she, Layela Delamores, signed over ownership of
Sunrise Flowers
to Josmere Berganda. Effective immediately.

“Yes you can, and you have to. It’s only temporary.”