Exiled (24 page)

“I’ll be careful.” Michael wouldn’t let Frank, Abe, or anyone else get a hold of it. It’d be used for one purpose. To destroy Vinny. Afterward he’d stash it, hide it away.

Zaren grunted.

Michael realized Zaren read his mind, and nodded. He wanted Zaren to understand he’d never do anything ever again to put Venus or her people in jeopardy.

“When you next meet Dervinias, be careful. He’s faster, stronger and more cunning than you are. He’s been alive a long time. And he can break you with the flick of his fingers. All you’ll have is the element of surprise.” Zaren shook his head. “I don’t know if that’ll be enough. But I understand your need to try. As soon as I get the chance, I’ll let those in control on Kelari know what is going on here. I promise.”

“I understand.” Michael moved away from his ship.

“Venus is ready, right?” Zaren asked. He appeared tormented that he couldn’t be there with her.

“Yes, but I’ll make sure.”

“Thank you . . . Michael.” The door slid closed.

Michael ran to check on Venus. She looked bad. Her eyes were closed.

“Venus.” He shook her softly. She didn’t respond and the book he’d given her fell from her hands. “You must wake up.” He checked for a pulse. It beat slowly. He picked up the book and placed it in her hands. “C’mon. You can do this.” When she still didn’t react, he ran over to Zaren and banged on the door. “Zaren, help. She isn’t waking up.” The door slid upward and opened.

“Michael, come here.” He poked his head inside the cockpit. “See this button.” Michael nodded. “That’s to close the ship’s door. See this here?” He pointed to a large rectangular knob.

“Yes?”

“Turn that once counterclockwise and press. This will put it on autopilot.” Zaren looked at Michael with grave seriousness. “I’d do it myself, but I can’t. Both ships must be returned or there’ll be more trouble—”

“Not a problem, Zaren. I’ll do it.” He started back, but Zaren called him. “Michael!”

“Yeah?”

“I may’ve misjudged you.” It seemed hard for him to say it. Anger still filled his eyes.

“Get out of here. I’ll take care of it.”

The door to his ship closed and Michael ran back to Venus.

“Wake up.” He tapped her on the face. It didn’t help. “Cret,” he cursed and climbed inside to reach the button. He turned it counter-clockwise and pressed. “Just a little longer and you’ll be home.”

She let out a sob and whispered, “I’ll be dead.”

“Not true. You’ll see.”

“Michael. You don’t understand . . . love.” She turned away from him.

A sudden wind blasted them. A helicopter hovered in the clearing. “Suck,” he yelled.

A ping, like a rock bouncing off metal, ricocheted off the Transport. Michael peered back and saw three different Army Hummers, a machine gun on the top of each. About fifty people dressed in suits and camo-clothes surrounded the area. He didn’t see him, but guessed Frank was among them.

A large, bulky man wore a hard smile. Must’ve been excited by the whole scenario, tracking Venus and finding the ship.

The gray-haired man pointed a gun at Michael. Hell, they all had guns or rifles aimed at him.

“Cret!” he swore, looking around for the sword. It’d sunk into the snow, leaving an outline. He reached out to grab it, but bullets hit the ground inches from his hand.

“Don’t move,” Frank shouted. “Michael, I mean it. Stay where you are!”

The sword. Michael had to get to it—save it. He took another step toward the sword, reaching. Another slew of bullets zipped at him. One made contact, hitting him in the leg, above his right knee. The impact felt different than the bullet to the shoulder. Still, there wasn’t a lot of pain, more of a sting. As the blood seeped through his pants, he pondered the difference.

“Stop it, Frank,” he yelled, frustrated. They weren’t going to let him live. Michael had become expendable. All they cared about was getting to the ship and experimenting on whatever was left of Venus. That couldn’t happen. He had to make sure she got away safely.

Anxious, he debated what to do.

In an instant, he knew.

Climbing inside the cockpit, Michael pressed the button to close the door. A soft, glowing light appeared after the door sealed shut. A female voice in some strange language began speaking. He shifted Venus so she sat on his unharmed leg and placed her legs between his. “Fly. Take off!” He touched his wounded leg, grinding his teeth at the pain.

An abrupt revving or whining, probably the engine, startled him. There was a
whoosh
and he was thrown back in his seat. Some sort of mist released into the compartment. He couldn’t place the smell, but it reminded him of astringent.

“This is crazy.”

Buttons on the dash started to flash and something began beeping.
Oh, crap! Am I making this Marshmallow ship too heavy? Are we going to crash?

Venus moaned.

“What can I do?”

She turned so her shoulder poked him in the ribs and snuggled her cheek into his chest.

“Live forever without love?”

She’d spoken the words like a question, but he had no idea how to respond, so he wrapped one arm around her and stroked her hair with the other. “It’s going to be okay . . .” He hoped whatever the substance filled the compartment would help her breathe.

Worry pulled at him. If Earth’s air made Venus sick, what would kelarian air do to him? Even as the thought occurred to him, Michael realized he didn’t care about the answer—not much. He’d made the decision to help her. It’d been the right choice. Whatever happened next, he’d accept the cost. As if the yacking female voice understood, everything stopped beeping and they were left in dark silence.

Michael took a deep breath. The air seemed okay, so far. Thankful, he lowered his chin onto the top of her head, and closed his eyes. He didn’t know how long the trip would take or if he’d survive it. Since he didn’t have any answers, he decided to enjoy what he did have. Venus. The smell of coconuts in her hair. The way her body felt tucked against his. Knowing she’d be safe. These were the facts he held onto They filled him with happiness.

His life had gone from mundane, boring even, too . . . this. Finding out there was life beyond Earth. That humanity wasn’t alone in the universe.

Michael held her tighter.

She sighed.

And those beings weren’t green, jellyfish-looking creatures with bug-eyes. Although he figured those types of aliens were possible, but not on Venus’s planet. At least he didn’t think so. The idea of arriving on her world and the unknown sent a shiver down his spine. But he pushed away his fears. Focused on her—her nearness and all she meant to him. He nestled closer. If anyone deserved to live forever, it was her.

She let out another sigh. “Zaren,” she whispered.

Michael froze. Agony tore at his tender heart as well as jealousy—that Venus would think of Zaren instead of him.
She should be sighing my name . . . not that I deserve it.

“Michael,” a sharp bark cut through their small space.

“Um, yeah. Who’s this?”

“It’s Zaren.” A holographic image of his face popped up.

“Oh. Hey,” Michael said, nervous.

“What are you doing in the ship? I told you to leave.”

“Yeah, I know. But I got shot. And Venus was unconscious. It seemed like the right thing to do.” Michael wrapped his arms more firmly around Venus, this time for his own comfort.

Zaren rubbed a hand through his hair, then said, “Michael, you realize kelarian air isn’t . . . good for humans.”

Michael chuckled, knowing that was putting it lightly. He didn’t regret his decision in the least. “I kind of figured.”

“Why did you do it then?”

Michael shrugged, figuring the answer was obvious. Venus.

Zaren went on, “Venus had a task to accomplish before the Gods would allow her back on Kelari. It didn’t go as planned. Our deities wouldn’t respond to my emergency message, so I don’t know what kind of welcome home we’re going to receive. She’s been accused of being a traitor and killing a sacred animal. With you tagging along, the task she was supposed to accomplish . . .”

Michael watched him blink back angry tears.

“What did her job have to do with me?” Michael knew his coming had been the right decision. Now Zaren said he’d made everything worse for her. His gut told him it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.

Zaren rubbed his fingers into his hair, as though he could make a wish and solve all of their problems. He leaned back in the white banana-looking chair. “I . . . don’t know if I should tell you, Michael.”

“Why not? Maybe if I knew what she was supposed to do, I could help.” If Ith and Aetha were still going to be angry with her, and it was his fault, well that wouldn’t do.

“It’s so . . . stupid.” He cringed.

“Then spit it out, dude.” Zaren frustrated him.

“You were supposed to find true love,” he said, dejectedly and closed his eyes.

Michael waited for him to continue. There had to be more to it. He remembered what Venus told him about finding love. That conversation started to make more sense, but still . . . “Why would your Gods care if I found love, let alone true love.”

“I don’t know.” Zaren shook his head. “I’ve thought it was the most ridiculous request I’d ever heard, but as the Princess’s personal guardian, it wasn’t my place to question, only serve. I’ve failed.”

“Princess?”

He inclined his head. “Venus. She’s heir to Alayeah’s throne.”

“Alayeah?” He couldn’t help the questions. Venus had told him a lot, but obviously not nearly enough. A princess. That explained so much.

“Alayeah is the largest civilized country on our planet. She’s meant to rule it someday. Now . . .” he trailed off, shaking his head. “I’ve no idea what’s to become of her. She may be killed the moment we land, if she lives that long.”

Instinctively, Michael tightened his grip. “And all I had to do was find true love?” It was his turn to shake his head. It sounded so simple—easy.

He did love Cheverly. Was it a forever kind of love? He’d care about her always, but in love? The answer was no. He’d loved his mother too, but that was more out of loyalty. He let out a frustrated laugh.
In love?
He looked down, into the face of his angel. He’d briefly supposed she’d been sent to kill him. Instead she’d given him back his life.
Venus.
The truth in his heart was more difficult.

To Zaren, he said, “I’m seventeen. True love, that’s ridiculous.” Even as he said the words though, he knew he lied. Age. Time. Space.
None of it matters when you find The One
. His heart swelled at the knowledge.

“I know, Michael. But that was the condition of her return.” He opened his eyes and sat forward. “When we land, I don’t know what kind of welcome we’ll receive. Stay inside the Transport. Let me take Venus. I’ll come back for you.”

“Sure.”

Venus faded in and out, between consciousness and nightmares. The last thing she knew for certain was that Michael helped her into the Transport. After that, everything was fuzzy. For one thing, it seemed he was insidewith her. Impossible. That had to be a dream. It had to be Zaren holding her, keeping her safe.

His presence comforted and saddened her. Venus hadn’t wanted to leave Michael. He still needed her. Secondly, their connection buoyed her in a way she’d never experienced. When she wasn’t near him, everything felt . . . off. It was the Gods’ fault. They’d bound hers and Michael’s souls together. She’d done her best to accomplish what they’d asked. Michael did love Cheverly—he’d told her so. Yet, for some reason, she and Michael were still connected.

Venus hoped he’d be all right and that he’d find contentment in his life.

Breathing was difficult and she struggled to move. Zaren had to have been the one to start the Transport. Warmth encircled her heart—that he’d risk so much.

She worried as well. Their law demanded that all Transports be returned or destroyed (if necessary). To leave one behind was out of the question. Terrible consequences would be taken against those who broke the law. Not that she worried about herself. What more could the Gods do to her? Death was it—the final chapter. The end. But they would punish Zaren.

Venus had to live to make sure they realized that she was to blame for leaving the Transport behind. She had to live to save Zaren. One good thing had come from her being sent to Earth. It’d given her the chance to experience emotions. And she’d been able to recognize them for what they were. She cared for Zaren. Remembering the way he’d kissed her arm and wrist, the way he always told her the truth, the way he smelled. All of him. Maybe she felt more for him than she realized. Maybe she loved him.

She’d also had strong emotions for Michael—still did. Venus guessed that had to do with their connection. What more could it be? To have feelings for a human? Or to develop such strong emotions in such a short amount of time wasn’t possible. The only answer had to be the tie (whatever that meant) the Gods had placed between them. Figuring it out wasn’t important. Michael remained on his world, where he belonged. Zaren was in trouble. He was her first priority. Venus snuggled further into Zaren’s chest. So strong. Firm.

Strangely though, on several occasions she thought she heard Zaren speaking with Michael. It had to be her lack of carbon dioxide. Going so long without kelarian air had her hearing things. She’d worry later. Right now she needed rest. Whatever happened when they landed, she had to be prepared. And that meant getting stronger.

Venus awakened to arguing.

“Stay inside until I come back for you. I’m going to take her to see the Gods.” Zaren sounded agitated. So not him.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll stay, but hurry.”

Still, she easily recognized who’d spoken.

Venus lifted her head from his chest. “What are you doing here?” Her lungs were breathing easier. She’d returned home—had to be. Venus opened her eyes and noticed his face. It looked pinched. He appeared to be in pain. “Michael?”

“Hi,” he said softly, moving his arms from around her waist, a small grin on his face.

It had been Michael who’d kept her safe, protected her.

Zaren reached in and pulled her from Michael’s lap. She felt like an invalid. “Stop. Put me down. I can walk.” Venus glanced back at Michael, then up into Zaren’s face. “I’m fine.”

He released her. She took a step. Her legs gave way and she started to fall. Michael bolted out of the cockpit, but that hadn’t been necessary. Zaren steadied her. “Princess. Let me carry you.” He pulled her into his arms.

Venus huffed. “You shouldn’t be wasting your time.”

“You don’t know that.” He moved with sure-footed ease. The misty air surrounding the Manshum Mountains was so dense she could taste it, reach out and touch it. No one had told her where they were, but it was obvious.

For so much mist swirling around it was a wonder anything could grow, but as they walked, Venus heard the vegetation brush against Zaren, and the thick grass getting smashed under his shoes. Off to the right, beadizens were chirping noisily, their small orange wings slashing through the air above, and their song eerie in the dark night.

Every once in a while she’d hear the scurry of little creatures rustling through the bushes—probably muscaratys. White and long-haired, four little paws with razor-sharp claws and a twitchy nose with whiskers. Their long, floppy ears, soft and almost reaching the grassy floor. A long thin tail with a poof of fur on the end. They’d be adorable if it weren’t for their vicious temperament. Thankfully they didn’t hunt in packs.

She snuck a look at Zaren’s face. He looked solid, concentrating on the task at hand. His eyes flitted back and forth, scanning for danger as he went. Kelvieri had perfect vision. It didn’t matter the terrain or conditions. Some immortals were better at hunting than other. Zaren was one of the best. Venus doubted he remembered she rested in his arms.

Zaren.
Testing to see if he could still read her thoughts. No response. Venus let out a sigh of relief. It was nice to have some privacy.

After a few minutes they reached the mouth of the cave. As in the love story of the Gods, the entrance loomed before them—gigantic. Like an enormous, howling wraith, it would swallow them whole.

Zaren stepped inside.

She held her breath.
Another doorway. Death waits for me in there. I know it.

He stopped on the other side of the entrance. They were cocooned in darkness thick as irrihunter blood. She expected more, like Formytians waiting to bind them and drag them to the Gods. Or a screeching, flying Mingtar the size of an adult kelarian, its grand red beak sent to rip her to shreds, and then carry her pieces to the feet to the Gods.

Nothing happened.

Zaren took another step inside.

“You can put me down now, Formytian.”

He did as she asked.

A blue light formed above their heads, like a halo. Small, but letting off enough of a glow so that they could make out their surroundings. Zaren started walking again, straight forward. He could see further ahead than she could. As they continued in, the light grew larger, making the cave more visible. Stalactites and stalagmites were everywhere, hovering above them and growing from the floor, next to them. The floor looked like ice, but it wasn’t cold. On the contrary, a warm wind blew from the direction they headed, bringing along different smells—the frothy sea and a garden full of flowers.

Venus raised a brow in question. Zaren nodded, and they continued on the only path available. Crystals sparkled and twinkled at her from every side. A green hue emanated from the pillars, as though they were walking into a giant mouth full of razor-sharp, emerald teeth. By the time they reached the next opening, their room shone bright as noonday.

She and Zaren both paused. There wasn’t a door, but they still couldn’t see inside because it was pitch black. At least that’s how it looked to her.

The moment of truth.
The Gods were on the other side. Venus sensed them. It dawned on her that Zaren had made this trip once before, when he’d been changed. Did he regret having been her Formytian? And her friend? She’d caused him so much trouble.

“Come in, children. It’s rude to loiter in one’s doorway,” a musical, female said.

Her legs felt stronger, but they shook. It was a combination of feelings. Fear, sure. But they shook in anticipation as well. At last, she could end this, whatever the end would be.

Zaren gave her hand a quick squeeze. She refused to hold her breath, and stepped into the room.

All around them blue lights popped on. With her eyes, she followed them and searched the room for its secrets.

There were glittering rocks all around them and she could hear waves smashing against a rocky shore. The floor rose and dipped, uneven. Small ridges curved underfoot, making the way treacherous. It still looked icy clear. Little rainbows refracted onto the walls and ceiling. Venus took a tentative step and then another. The floor was made of thousands of diamonds.

She searched for openings or windows, but there weren’t any. Green vines covered many sections of the ceiling and walls. She was curious as to how they grew inside the cave.

Where did the wind come from?
It kept brushing against her hair, pushing it off her face. She heard a
drip, drip, drip,
but she couldn’t find the source.

Directly across from her were two enormous chairs. They appeared to have been made out of glass (or diamonds). Seated in them were two of the most glorious kels she’d ever seen.

The Gods of Kelari. Ith and Aetha.

Aetha had on a white dress, which looked like silk. On her feet were the immortal’s boots. The First Boots. She couldn’t help but wonder what sorts of weaknesses were symbolized in the heels. Did Aetha have any? Her stark white hair had been braided long. She had it draped over her shoulder. Within the braid, she had a blue ribbon, the color of irrihunter blood. Every tiny movement caused the color to change—darken and then lighten.

On her head sat a simple crown. The tallest peak had a large blue stone captured at the top, surrounded by smaller, light-blue stones. On either side were two slightly smaller peaks, each holding a large clear stone. Probably a diamond. All of the remaining peaks were small and held diamonds as well. Her eyes were a light violet and her skin shone almost as white as her hair.

Venus found Aetha’s crown spectacular.

Ith looked as stunning. Black hair, short and wavy. His skin mahogany. Eyes gleaming, a spring grass green. He had on a pair of black pants, the bottoms tucked into his Kelvieri’s Boots and a white tunic. On his head rested a crown, the same blue gem in the center, with diamonds setting in each of the lesser peaks, but his was thicker and more elaborate.

“Come closer, child,” Ith said. His words rang deep and clear.

Venus took a few uncertain steps forward, looking down. At that moment she realized what she still had on—only the awful hospital gown and Michael’s coat. She wanted to die of humiliation.

“You look beautiful, child,” Aetha said. So she could read minds. In a way, Venus was glad. Her thoughts would confirm Venus hadn’t done any of the crimes she’d been accused of.

Venus nodded. “Thank you, Goddess.” She knelt before them both. Strange enough, after she kneeled, the diamond substance didn’t feel hard anymore, but gave slightly under the pressure. It was as though her knees rested on an invisible pillow.

“It’s my pleasure.”

Venus waited for more from her or him—either of them—but no one spoke. The room so quiet she heard only the whistling wind, and the
drip-dripping
coming from somewhere on the right. Taking a deep breath to settle her nerves, she recognized a new scent on the breeze. A twinge of happiness ran from her fingers to her toes.

The impossible had happened. Venus wanted to live! The smell wafting around her was sweet hyath, her favorite flower.

Had the Gods brought the beautiful smell in for me?
Highly unlikely, but she gladly drew another deep breath. The scent enveloped her. She’d always loved sweet hyath, kept it in her rooms. The aroma got rid of her anxieties. She breathed in again, more deeply, and slowly blew out the wretched air from Earth, along with her feelings of anger, hate, stress and sadness. Some of the weight she’d been carrying around the past week lifted.

“Ith. Aetha. I’m so sorry . . . for so many things. I’m a stubborn girl who does things I shouldn’t.” Venus raised her head, to look at them. “With all that I am, I love and respect both of you very much. I never said anything blasphemous against either of you. That’s a promise.”

Aetha spoke, “We’ve seen your heart, child. Searched your memories. We know you didn’t do that which you’ve been accused.”

“Oh, I’m so glad,” she began, but Ith held up a hand.

He said, “What doesn’t change, is that a punishment must be given to those who did.”

Venus nodded. That was high on her list—to bring revenge down upon those who’d harmed her family, killed her irrihunter.

Aetha spoke. “We understand your need for vengeance. But first things first.”

Nervousness pierced her heart.
Cret!
She nodded, preparing for whatever the consequences would be—even death. She’d known that was a probability—had accepted it. A part of her still wanted to fight.

“We gave you a task. Help the boy, Michael, find his soul mate. Did you accomplish this?” Ith asked.

Biting her lip, she lowered her head. In a whisper, she said, “If you know I didn’t do the things I’ve been accused of, why must the task still matter?”

“It matters because we are Gods and we’ve commanded the oath and promise be fulfilled. That has not changed,” Aetha said.

Venus raised her head, a flash of rebellion. “But you’ve searched my mind. You know I didn’t accomplish it. The human, he loved a girl, but she wasn’t his true love . . .” She worked to hold back the burning tears. Now that she’d returned, she should’ve been able to better control her emotions. That wasn’t the case.

“Didn’t you?” Ith asked.

Zaren stepped next to her and kneeled. “My Gods, that she failed is my fault. I take full responsibility. Any punishment you demand, I’ll make the payment. I give my promise.” He pressed his right fist to his chest—the sign of the Formytian’s Pledge.

Venus wouldn’t have it.

“No.” She glared at him. “Don’t even say that. You aren’t my Formytian anymore.”

Tinkling laughter, like beautiful music, echoed throughout the room. Venus looked over and saw Ith and Aetha laughing. Their smiles and joy were a magical balm, filling the air.

Ith said, “It must feel good to know you have someone like Zaren by your side.”

“It does,” she responded, clenching her fists. And there was no way she would let him suffer for her.

“Venus, you are a lady of honor, and Zaren, you are a Formytian far superior to any I’ve met, save one.” Aetha glanced over at Ith. “The First Formytian would’ve laid down his life for me. He tried, even.”

Venus remembered their story.

“I’m sorry Zaren, but you cannot accept the child’s consequences. She must do that alone,” Ith said, kindly.

“Please.” Zaren bowed his head.

“Let’s see if there is a need for punishment.” Ith and Aetha looked toward the entrance they’d come through.