Kiera's Sun Page 10

  Red rocks, a storm and … the green space with the strange creature beckoning to her … the images were too fleeting. She always saw the surface of the planet and had no recollection of the dreams ever mentioning the underground world.

  Turi nudged her with a foot. Her eyes opened.

  “Did you not hear me?” he asked with tried patience. His eyes were bloodshot and face flushed, as if he, too felt the lack of oxygen in the air.

  “No, sorry,” she replied.

  “Tell me what is wrong with the planet.”

  “Aside from A’Ran blowing it up?” she asked with a forced chuckle. “The mines are overproducing ore and poisoning everything. The storms are toxic and creating electromagnetic fields that mess with any ship within range.”

  Turi was listening.

  “If what’s happening to the planet is also what’s happening to me, I think …” she drifted off. “Well, the life force of the planet is where the trouble lies. My cells are degenerating rapidly. I’m dying from the inside out, and Anshan seems to be poisoning itself from the inside out.”

  “In your world, how would they fix you?”

  She snorted. “They wouldn’t know how to. Our medicine is many cycles behind the Five Galaxies.”

  “I am almost grateful Anshan rejected us,” he grumbled. “We found another door on our initial exploration of the caverns. Let us try it.” He struck off down the hallway back towards the way they’d come.

  Kiera got up with a groan, ready for some sleep, and started to follow but stopped short as she considered another possibility. In the chamber where she’d awakened the planet, she’d been alone. Was it possible the planet would communicate with her somehow better if she wasn’t with Turi? It was responding to her with light; she knew it was aware of her being there.

  Closing her eyes, she listened, uncertain how a planet communicated with anyone. The heavy air was stifling. No daydreams emerged from the depths of her mind. No sounds, no flickering lights, not even the faintest breeze reached her. The only difference between standing here and exploring the rest of the underground building: the sparks of Anshan’s energy were more frequent here, as if she were getting warmer on her search for she knew not what.

  She sighed and started forward, irritated that she didn’t know what she needed to about the planet.

  Turi was waiting in the dark, dingy tunnel outside the structure when she reached the doorway. Kiera’s eyes went to him and then down.

  She laughed, unable to help her startled reaction to what had happened in their absence. As with the surface, when she’d touched Anshan recently, the patch of grass she created had expanded outward from the initial place where she rested her hands.

  The floor of the tunnel was carpeted in bright green for about twenty feet, and it had begun to creep up the sides of the tunnel as well. Its fresh scent was light, cool, and she breathed deeply, surprised by how stale the air beyond had really been.

  “How is this possible for it to grow so fast?” Turi was crouched in the grass, gazing hard at it.

  “I don’t know,” she replied honestly.

  “You have no control over this?”

  “None.”

  “I have been to over thirty worlds and never heard of this.” He stood and took an exaggerated breath in. “There’s more air to breathe here.”

  Ah. It wasn’t the underground building. Kiera mirrored his movement, and understanding brought a smile to her face. The grass was doing what plants did: creating oxygen.

  “Come. I have an idea.” Turi started away.

  She sucked in several more deep breaths before following him. The farther they walked from the grass, the stuffier the air became once more. Fascinated by the ability to grow grass, Kiera was nonetheless becoming aggravated by the fact she had no idea how much more there was to the link between her and the planet.

  Rather than return to the central cavern housing his people, Turi set off down another small tunnel off the main one. This one, too, slanted upward, towards the surface and ended with a similar door to the first. The sound of the storm raging beyond the tunnels was louder here, and she glanced upward, leery of how strong and thick the rock between them and the toxic surface was.

  Turi wedged the hilt of his knife between the doorframe and door and pried it open. “We explored this room before,” he said with a grunt. He pulled it open, and a puff of red dust burst into the tunnel.

  Kiera rested a hand over her mouth and Turi coughed. He stepped back, waving a hand to clear the dust from in front of his face.

  “Is it safe?” she asked.

  Turi didn’t answer. He tugged his shirt up over his nose and went back to opening the door the rest of the way.

  It was dark beyond, and the roar of the storm was louder.

  “You go. Turn on the lights,” he directed.

  Kiera hesitated before reassuring herself he wasn’t about to toss her out on the planet’s surface when he needed her alive to help him save his people. She squeezed past him through the doorway. Dust was heavy in the air, but the staleness was gone. She sneezed and covered her nose.

  No lights went on, and the surface beneath her feet was rocky, uneven, unlike the building they just explored. She moved several feet from the entrance, waiting for the lights to flip on. None did.

  Wind whipped past her, and she froze.

  “Be a Yirkin. Figure this out,” Turi called from behind her. “Your friend will be safe with us until you succeed or are confirmed dead.”

  She whirled.

  The door closed with a groan, and Kiera raced to it. No doorknob, keypad or keyed entry was visible, and she pounded against it, panicking at the thought of being stuck on the surface of the planet to die.

  “Turi!” she cried. “Don’t leave me here!”

  No response.

  Kiera stared at the door, horrified at her potential fate, and turned to search the area behind her for somewhere to hide. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she was able to make out the shapes of rocky hills rising out of the ground on either side of her, forming natural protection around her. A path led from the depths of the draw back towards the surface.

  Wind wailed overhead, and another burst of dust danced through the draw towards her. She coughed, covered her mouth and staggered towards the small area of the rocky terrain around her spared the storm’s fury.

  Crouching between two boulders, she rubbed her irritated eyes until they were clear of debris and hunkered down with a look at the sky.

  No stars or Anshan moons were visible. It was dark, warm and dusty. Kiera wrapped her arms around her knees, thoughts on A’Ran. Her death on Anshan was fitting, even if it filled her with despair to know she’d never feel his strong embrace or breathe in his scent again. She closed her eyes, both numbed to her fate and devastated by it. She wasn’t able to purge the image of A’Ran from her mind, and she closed her eyes, grateful his face was the last thing she’d see as she died.

  How long did it take for the toxic atmosphere to kill someone? Did it hurt, or was it like falling asleep and never waking up again?

  Why was the energy of Anshan stronger out here, warming her feet while she waited to die?

  Tears mixed with dust on her face, and she waited for the planet to end her misery.

  Chapter Eight

  Except it didn’t. Kiera cried for some time, waiting anxiously for any symptom she was dying. If she were, it was similar to the degeneration of her cells the medic had claimed was occurring. She felt no different.

  When her legs became cramped from her position jammed between boulders, she lifted her head – careful to keep her shirt over her mouth and nose – and stretched them. Kiera tested her body. She was sore from all the walking, starving, and too wired to sleep through her looming death.

  She felt … fine. Itchy, though, and uncomfortably warm.

  Kiera shifted and ran her hands along the ground beneath her. Grass was tickling the exposed strip of skin between her shirt and pants
as well as her ankles. She shivered as something brushed the back of her neck, and she stretched back to feel thick ribbons of grass three feet tall.

  The darkness was lifting around her. The storm blocked the sun, but it was definitely morning on Anshan. Weak daylight turned her world from black to gray. As she sat and debated what to do next, the gray took on an orange-ish hue as full daylight reached the planet’s surface through the red dust storms.

  She rested her head against the rock behind her, eyes on the storm above her safe alcove above. Small funnel clouds touched down and skipped over her. Bursts of red dust that appeared like smoke plumes often trailed them. The sky on the other side of the storm remained invisible.

  The grass was growing quickly enough to agitate her. Kiera shifted out of her spot and knelt on the ground near the boulders. Beautiful green splashed against the charcoal and reddish rocks. As she watched, the patch of grass expanded.

  I know Anshan senses me.

  She wasn’t dead, either. Was this a sign the planet was protecting her, or was she safe away from the storms? A’Ran had said the air was toxic, since the mines used to blow up the planet’s surface were filled with toxic ore. None of his men dared venture out into the storms without the goo-suits she’d worn once.

  Yet she was in the open, breathing the air of Anshan without a problem, aside from the occasional sneeze. If anything, the air was much easier to breathe than that of the caverns.

  Her gaze went to the path leading out of the draw. She took two steps onto it, and the energy of the planet sparked inside her stronger than before. Two steps to the left, and the warmth all but vanished.

  Anshan wanted her to leave the draw next to the door to the underground world.

  Fear made her heart race and her palms clammy. Dared she leave the relative peace of the protected spot? She knew from her first visit it would be impossible to find her way back, once she had gone more than a few feet from the mouth of the draw.

  The universe didn’t bring you to me for us to fail to save Anshan. A’Ran’s words were louder in her thoughts than her pounding heart.

  Kiera tugged the shirt down from her face and took a cautious breath. The air was thick with dust but otherwise seemed normal.

  She glanced towards the door through which she’d been shoved once more then rose and crossed to it. It was impossible to budge from this side. She rested her palms against the cool metal for a moment before turning away. The energy was gone from this direction, too.

  Either she stayed where she was and prayed someone saved her, or she did what the planet and Yirkin told her – and ventured into the storm to see what was there.

  Her gaze lingered on the grass rapidly expanding from its spot in the corner of the draw. When she’d left Anshan last time, the expansion had ceased and was presumed killed off by the toxins in the air. It showed no sign of slowing despite the puffs of dust and full exposure to the Anshan atmosphere.

  What if she had to remain on the planet for any terra forming to be successful? Was her distance, as close as the moon was, causing her and the planet pain?

  I wish I knew a single thing about this relationship. “If you can hear me, please help me,” she said to the planet. “I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do. I don’t understand how we can help each other survive.”

  She didn’t expect a response and wasn’t disappointed. Kiera drew a breath and started walking. Her step slowed as she tackled the uneven terrain leading out of the draw, and she held the shirt across her mouth to keep dust from choking her.

  The storms of Anshan howled across the scarred planet, and she closed her eyes as she reached the edge of the trail. One more step, and she’d be fully exposed.

  But this opportunity was what she’d wanted for weeks – to see if she really did belong here, if there was any chance in the world she was able to help the planet and people.

  I need to know if I can survive here. If the planet’s accepted nishani wasn’t able to live on the surface, its people would never have a shot either. Kiera steadied her breathing and left the safety of the draw. She hunkered down and braced herself, ready to be knocked off her feet or pelted by dirt and dust.

  Nothing happened. She cracked one eye open then the other. She had the strange sense of being at an aquarium, watching the underwater world yet protected from it by a clear layer of glass. The winds and dirt went around her, staying a consistent two feet from her at all times, as if she were in a bubble.

  Kiera frowned. The grass was growing faster now. Whenever she paused, green shot up around her feet. Already her ankles were itchy from the blades poking at her skin.

  She feared losing track of the entrance to the underground world. Turi would have to confirm whether she lived or died, and he’d have to open the door to do it. She ventured farther from the draw with some apprehension. She wasn’t able to see more than half a dozen feet ahead of her, though the energy of Anshan remained steady and warm, as if to encourage her to continue.

  With a deep breath of clean air inside her strange bubble, she started walking. The uneven terrain was littered with sudden dips and gashes as well as boulders and loose shale. She had little warning before reaching the obstacles, and even less ability to gauge how treacherous her path ahead became.

  Kiera walked, praying the planet showed her the path it needed her to take to help them both. No such road formed, and she continued forward at a slow pace.

  A shadow passed overhead, and she lifted her eyes from the ground. At first, she prayed a ship had found her. To her surprise, it wasn’t a ship but a boulder larger than her caught in the violent winds far above. She watched in disbelief as the boulder tumbled through the sky before it was swallowed by a cloud of red.

  “C’mon, now, Anshan. You gotta be able to stop this stuff,” she murmured, waiting to see if another rock soared through the sky.

  The ground dropped out from under her right foot, and she toppled down a slope littered with shale and small, sharp rocks. Bursts of pain shot through her. Kiera covered her head the best she could, unable to stop her momentum or even release the breath caught in her throat. She slid and rolled down the slope, scraping her arms and legs as she went.

  She dared open her eyes. The blurry, spinning, gray form of a boulder was directly in her path. She flailed – and then smacked into the rock.

  Kiera’s world went dark.

  Chapter Nine

  As a warrior who had been fighting for fifteen cycles, A’Ran was accustomed to pain in all its levels and intensities. The sharp pain in his shoulder was likely from it being jarred out of socket, the burn radiating down his forearm a break, the warm pain in his chest and one leg indicating shallow stab wounds onto which his clothing clung.

  He categorized his injuries and came up with the almost satisfactory conclusion that he’d been through worse on at least one other occasion. It wasn’t just pain he felt, either, but a familiar thrum of energy. He had first experienced it when he returned to the planet for the first time in fifteen cycles several weeks ago. The planet had welcomed him with an internal hug similar to the warm energy inside him now.

  With a grunt of pain, A’Ran pushed himself into a sit with his good arm. He didn’t have to guess how he’d landed; the left side of his body was damaged while his right was fine. He rested his limp left arm on his lap and prodded the most serious of his punctures to ensure they weren’t too deep. When he finished, he looked around – and realized what he’d missed the first few moments of waking after the brutal landing.

  He was alive on the toxic surface of Anshan. The air wasn’t choking him with poison, and the storms weren’t hurling boulders and dust at him. He reached out with one hand and tested the strange bubble around him. It was impossible to pierce, because it moved with him. It wasn’t an exoskeleton or at least, not one his people had created.

  His hand dropped to his side, and he stood, testing the bubble around him. It continued to go wherever he did. A’Ran limped to a large rock a
nd knelt. Steeling himself for more pain, he gingerly placed his hurt shoulder against the rock, drew a breath and smashed the shoulder back into place. Agony pierced him, left him close to passing out, and he concentrated hard on breathing steadily until the throbbing pain descended into something more manageable.

  When it did, he shifted and pulled off his shirt. His left arm was going to need medical attention. He tore a long strip from his clothing and created a sling then went to work binding the tears in his body the best he could. When he was satisfied with his work, he rose and looked around.

  One of the reasons he preferred to be in space instead of on the ground: perspective. On the planet, he wasn’t able to see what he could from space. In the middle of an Anshan storm, he saw even less - only what was directly in front of him, and he hated the limited perspective of his world that caused.

  He returned to where he had landed and surveyed the shattered emergency landing equipment he had used once it was clear his ship was going down. For a long moment, he simply stood and stared at the scene. He hadn’t noticed the ground beneath him before. His blood marred the equipment and had soaked into the red desert of the planet. But it wasn’t this holding him transfixed.

  Grass. A small patch had sprouted beneath where he had lain. He had heard Mansr and Leyon speak of how Kiera brought the planet to life with a single touch, but he had never considered what happened when the dhjan touched the planet. His brief visit weeks ago hadn’t been of too short duration for him to do more than land, attend a meeting, rescue Kiera and fly off again. He had spent less than half a day on Anshan and another several moments during the trip to assess the mines.

  Mansr’s question about when he had last visited the planet was back in his thoughts. He had been exiled seconds after officially becoming the dhjan and had never spent more than several hours on the planet. He had certainly never sat long or slept or been still enough to see if he had the same power Kiera did.

  A’Ran bent on his good knee and ran his palm through the grass. The moon had grass, of course, but this was different. It might as well have grown out of his own spirit. It was his. His touch had done this. After spending well over half his life in exile, and destroying the surface, his planet still remembered him, still welcomed him, still loved him.