Wyvern’s Outlaw

  If she didn’t know better.

  Ryke’s father smiled a little, a cool expression that didn’t soften his features at all. “Is that so hard to believe, my son?”

  “Father!”

  “None other.” The older man turned, apparently looking at his custo, and spoke with authority. “Begin the teleport, Titus. Bring my son home.”

  The deck began to shimmer and Bakiel stepped toward Ryke.

  “I think you’re forgetting something,” Anguissa said, keeping one hand on the controls of the teleport on the Magnetawan. “I haven’t been paid the bounty I’m owed.”

  Ryke’s father met her gaze steadily. “That payment won’t be necessary, Captain Anguissa. The Gloria Furore has posted a bounty upon you.” His smile grew colder. “We don’t bargain with criminals.”

  “I don’t have to surrender Ryke, then.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I’m prepared to allow you an increment of amnesty in exchange for Ryke’s return. Run while you can, Captain Anguissa.”

  “I want the bounty paid,” Anguissa insisted.

  She would have argued further but a dark chill seized her mind. She gasped and staggered at its abrupt intrusion. It was rough and forceful, lingering only long enough to compel her to release the teleport.

  I will have my son.

  Anguissa staggered under the influence of the anger and hatred of Ryke’s father’s mind.

  “Bakiel!” Ryke shouted and Anguissa realized the teleport had begun.

  “Ryke!” she cried, before the pain in her mind was so great that tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. She fell to the deck, fighting the agony.

  I could kill you, abomination, but I choose to let you survive. Run while you can and be grateful for my mercy.

  Anger filled Anguissa, along with a resolve to destroy the invader at any price.

  Then abruptly, the invading force was gone.

  Ryke was gone, too, no more than a shimmer left of him on the teleport deck.

  And the echo of his last call.

  The custo lunged for the teleport, so stricken to be left behind that Anguissa activated the teleport of her own will. She felt violated, after having experienced Ryke’s father, and was struck by the contrast between father and son. Ryke would never have been so abusive. She had no doubt that Centurios would be a treacherous place for her, and wanted only to leave.

  “Go with him, Bakiel,” she murmured.

  “Come with me.”

  “Never!”

  The custo turned to her and swallowed, then bowed his head. “But you are Ryke’s luxa. We need you!”

  Anguissa wasn’t immune to his entreaty but she knew that the only result of her following Ryke would be her own death. Her departure would ensure that the prophecy didn’t come true, but she knew that Ryke didn’t believe in the prophecy or her role. He didn’t believe in love. He wanted only to be with his son and back on Centurios. He had what he desired and maybe she would forget him in time.

  Even if she was afraid she was abandoning her HeartKeeper, she had to defend the child she carried. That would have to be her legacy from Ryke.

  “Farewell, Bakiel. I hope you always believe in a better future.” Anguissa touched the control and Bakiel sparkled as the teleport began.

  “Farewell, Captain Anguissa,” Bakiel whispered. She watched until every last glimmer had extinguished, even after the console showed that the teleport was complete. Then she sighed and set her course for Incendium.

  Home.

  A host of other problems and a lot of solitude. The Magnetawan felt empty, as empty as her mind without Ryke, but Anguissa knew she had to get used to that. She fought an uncharacteristic urge to shed a tear or two, ignoring the view of the starport as she charted her course.

  And that was her mistake. She didn’t see the attack launch, until the Magnetawan’s defense systems were deployed and sirens began to blare.

  Ryke’s reaction to reaching his destination was mixed. He was glad he’d succeeded in returning alive. He was relieved to be back on Centurios, but the familiar elements of his home planet were less reassuring than he might have hoped.

  He felt uneasy, leaving Anguissa, and the farther he was from her side, the harder it was to believe that she had twisted his thinking that much.

  What if she was his luxa?

  What if he wasn’t just abandoning his child but throwing away the future, for Centurios as well as himself? Bakiel’s final words resonated in Ryke’s mind with inescapable power.

  He was going to miss the daring dragon shifter princess and starship captain.

  Even if she didn’t follow anyone’s rules.

  Maybe because of that.

  As soon as Bakiel arrived, the pair of them were herded toward a shuttle to the capital city, where his father awaited him. Ryke’s father and Titus weren’t on the station, of course, but safe in the imperial palace. Ryke was keenly aware of how worn the equipment was around him, how ancient the technology, how gaunt and wary the people of Centurios had become. Although Centurios hadn’t been overwhelmingly prosperous in recent memory, it had become significantly more impoverished in his absence.

  He was glad that Anguissa had sent Bakiel after him and looking forward to seeing his son again. He forced himself to concentrate on the positive.

  He refused to think about Anguissa sailing into the void and disappearing from his life forever.

  “His luxa?” the guard ushering them to the shuttle whispered to Bakiel.

  Ryke glanced up. Bakiel’s last words on the Magnetawan had been transmitted to the starport but had been uttered so quietly that he was sure no one had heard them.

  It appeared that he was wrong.

  Bakiel only nodded, but Ryke watched the awe dawn in the guard’s eyes. It was followed by speculation and hope, a combination that worried Ryke.

  “It was an illusion,” he said crisply, wanting to stop rumor before it started. He’d be even more of a failure if they thought he’d betrayed them, even if it was just a story.

  The guard looked between the two of them, then turned his attention to his task when Bakiel’s expression didn’t change. Ryke gave his custo a look but Bakiel was unrepentant. “Luxa,” he mouthed, his eyes shining. “Don’t let her go.”

  Ryke halted. He wasn’t an impulsive man. He wasn’t a dreamer and he didn’t believe in fairy tales. But he wanted to be with Anguissa more than anything he’d wanted before.

  He decided to trust his heart.

  “Wait!” he called and pivoted to look at the display. He expected to see that the Magnetawan sailing toward a wormhole that would take it closer to Incendium, having been given right of way.

  Instead, he saw the freighter being attacked.

  “No!” he roared, lunging back toward the deck. “The Magnetawan should have safe passage. Captain Anguissa brought me home!”

  “The emperor commanded the attack,” the captain of the shuttle informed him and Ryke watched in horror as the Magnetawan was subjected to a barrage of fire. “It’s only rational to eliminate a criminal wanted by the Gloria Furore.”

  “No!” Ryke cried again and tried to push the weapons master from his console. They fought, scuffling on the floor as Ryke tried to gain control despite his opponent’s strength. Some of the men continued their jobs, ignoring the fight, while the men closest to Ryke watched in shock and horror.

  “He’s lost his mind,” whispered the commander.

  “He’s found his heart,” Bakiel said with confidence. “And his luxa. Ryke is the one foretold who will bring change to Centurios.”

  A ripple of excitement passed through the crew on deck, but Ryke didn’t care. He punched his opponent in the nose and flung him to one side. He could have slipped. He could have manipulated the man or destroyed him, but Ryke refused to do as much. He seized control of the console when the weapons master held up his hands in defeat, but so many rounds had already been fired. He managed to stop the onslaught, but feared it was too late.


  The hull of the Magnetawan exploded and a large chunk of the fuselage fell away. Anguissa appeared to be firing back. She gave as good as she got, but the Magnetawan wasn’t as heavily armed as the Centurios starport.

  Nor was its armor sufficient to defend it against such a concerted attack at close proximity. His fists clenched as the freighter fell, tumbling to a lower orbit.

  Had Anguissa done that?

  Was it a feint?

  Was she choosing to die rather than be captured? There was no chance of the Magnetawan escaping that attack in a condition that would allow it to jump. And she knew about the opinion of her kind on Centurios. He watched the wreckage fall and felt as if a precious gem had been torn away from him.

  He liked to think that he could have made his peace with never seeing her again, that just knowing she was alive, taking bold chances somewhere in the universe, would have been enough for him.

  He couldn’t bear that she would die.

  He hated that there was nothing he could do to save her.

  He couldn’t have blamed her for not wanting to carry the child of an umbro, not when she’d been so betrayed. His father had broken his word to allow her safe passage. Ryke’s heart tightened as he watched the freighter disintegrate into wreckage and fall toward the surface. The metal began to heat to red-hot with the friction of re-entry, and he wondered if any part of it would survive.

  Certainly, his luxa wouldn’t.

  “Anguissa,” he whispered, becoming aware of the stares of those around him.

  Then a fury seized his mind, like a cold hand sheathed in steel. He screamed as his brain clenched and an icy whisper slipped into his thoughts.

  You will deny her. His father commanded. You will call her an abomination.

  Ryke recoiled in horror and disgust. His father had slipped into him!

  It was taboo. It was wrong.

  It was a violation of everything they were.

  No umbro should slip into another umbro. He managed to protest.

  His father laughed. I do what I want. I take what is mine. You will do what you are told to do.

  Ryke braced himself and reached abruptly into his father’s mind, using surprise to seek evidence that Anguissa had been right. He found it in abundance, the scheme to discredit him, the invitation that brought the Gloria Furore in to raid, the insistence that Ryke not be ransomed, the command that he be tortured and broken.

  His own son.

  Because Ryke was the prophesied umbro who could change everything and his father knew it.

  First, Anguissa would die, then Ryke, then probably his son.

  His father fought back with sudden strength, flinging Ryke from his thoughts and following his retreat like a missile. His will blossomed in Ryke’s thoughts and Ryke feinted, with all the speed and grace of a dragon princess. He pretended to be overwhelmed and even fell to the deck of the starport, twisting like a man possessed.

  Denounce her.

  My son? Ryke kept his tone weak and humble, as if this was his dying breath. He could feel the blood seeping from one of his ears and knew his father would kill him as soon as he did as ordered.

  Safely at his studies in Greater Andal. Do as I ask and I will tell him that you returned a hero, but too damaged by torture to survive. Do what I ask and your memory will be honored.

  Ryke whimpered as if capitulating. He felt his father’s amusement, his pride in his power, and braced himself for the worst.

  Never! Ryke bellowed then he flung himself back at his father’s mind. He seized at the root of it and squeezed, twisting and tearing, a will for destruction filling him.

  His father was taken by surprise and by the time he tried to fight back, it was too late. Ryke could feel the blood seeping from his father’s body. He heard the cell walls and vessels bursting from the pressure and he heard the moan from the depths of his father’s being.

  He knew what his father expected, but Ryke refused to feast on his father’s anima. There were some forces that should be lost forever and his father’s hatred was one of them.

  He waited until there was no chance of recovery, then abandoned his father, straightening on the deck of the starport, knowing his gaze was resolute.

  “My father has been taken ill,” he said with calm authority. “I am taking command of the starport.”

  “All hail the new emperor,” Bakiel said with reverence and bowed deeply. “The time of the prophecy has come.” The entire crew bowed deeply.

  “Can the Magnetawan be saved?” he asked. “Anguissa is my luxa. Spare no effort to bring the light safely into the darkness.”

  “It is too close to the surface, sir. Her fate is sealed.”

  The Magnetawan was still spiraling downward, only a fraction of its former self. A plume of fire trailed behind it, which Ryke could see on the display and he wished that it was dragon fire instead of the vessel’s destruction. He reached for Anguissa, hoping she wasn’t already dead, and slipped.

  He had to tell her that he’d realized the truth, even if it was the last thing he said to her.

  Knock, knock, Snake-Eyes.

  Anguissa was strapped down and curled tightly into a ball, eyes closed against the heat that consumed what remained of the Magnetawan. There was nothing to be gained by shifting shape, which was a novel experience for her. To be smaller was better as the freighter fell into pieces.

  She’d made a mistake, not wanting to reveal the truth of her nature too soon, and the Magnetawan had betrayed her. Shields had automatically deployed as the ship was damaged and she was sealed into an area a fraction of the deck’s size. It was too small for her to shift and too armored for her to break free of it. She was sure it would be her coffin and that she would run out of oxygen sealed inside it.

  Then Ryke whispered in her thoughts.

  She’d never been so glad to hear the voice of another in her life.

  Soul-snatcher!

  She heard his chuckle and wanted to curl up in the sound forever. You were right, Anguissa. My father betrayed me and now I’ve paid him back.

  He’s dead?

  Nearly. I’ve let nature take its course.

  Will you be emperor?

  Maybe. What’s important is that I wanted you to know that Bakiel was right, too.

  How so?

  Luxa. The word was murmured softly, his voice so deep and filled with affection that Anguissa nearly wept.

  HeartKeeper.

  I wanted you to know that I love you.

  I love you, too, Ryke.

  Feel like taking a chance?

  More of one than loving an umbro?

  Ryke didn’t answer that, but continued quickly. There are two fighters en route toward you. Is there any chance you could survive if they blew what’s left of the Magnetawan apart? You’re still above atmosphere but...

  I can spin an orb. Anguissa interrupted him. Do it.

  You’re sure? It sounded like an acquired skill.

  I’m good, Ryke. Trust me.

  I do.

  And anything has to be better than dying in this piece of junk you call a starship.

  It’s risky, Princess.

  Everything worth doing is.

  Anguissa heard Ryke giving commands and knew she’d convinced him. She closed her eyes, praying as she never had before. She realized it was because she had something to live for, something more important than her own survival or even that of the Archangel.

  “Impact minus five.”

  Anguissa listened to Ryke, knowing that if his voice was the last thing she heard, that would be just fine.

  “Four. Three. Two. One.”

  The Magnetawan exploded in fire, cracking open like an egg. Anguissa could see and feel the flames that consumed it, but she shifted shape as soon as there was space. She surged upward, through the fire and flame, beating her wings as she rolled into a perfect orb. The orb shone in the light of the rising sun, turned gold by the dawn, and Anguissa flew toward the land mass she could se
e in the distance, her heart beating with joy.

  You’re beautiful, Princess. I can see you, gleaming like obsidian.

  The sun is rising, Ryke.

  Yes, it is! Welcome to a new era for Centurios, Anguissa. He paused and his next words were husky. Wait for me.

  Always.

  Anguissa flew to the starport, knowing that she was being watched. She descended slowly, choosing her location, knowing it would be a few hours before Ryke’s shuttle reached the surface. When she saw a boy shielding his eyes to look up at her, she guessed who he might be.

  He was taller than he’d been in Ryke’s memory and more gangly, a boy on the cusp of becoming a man. He stood like Ryke, though, tall and straight, and waited without fear when she descended toward him.

  Anyone you know? She thought the question to Ryke, liking the huskiness of his voice when he replied.

  You know it is. Of course.

  Of course?

  Of all the people in Centurios, only you would find my son first.

  It’s a question of focus, Ryke.

  It’s a question of destiny.

  I thought you didn’t believe in that.

  You’ve changed my mind about a lot of things, Snake Eyes.

  I’ve only just started.

  Ryke laughed. I know. You’re my luxa, Anguissa, the one who will bring the light and the healing.

  Anguissa smiled that he’d called her by her name three times in succession, as well as acknowledged the force between them. Luxa. HeartKeeper. Two interpretations of the same concept from two very different societies.

  Anguissa heard Ryke’s announcement of her role in his life as she descended steadily toward his son. She heard his command that she should not be injured and she saw the wonder on the faces of those who gathered around his son. They fell to their knees when she landed, but the boy’s gaze was unswerving. His eyes widened as Anguissa shifted to her human form and she smiled at him.

  “You’re Ryke’s son.”

  “And you’re the luxa foretold,” he replied, his gaze brightening with anticipation. “Will you take me for a dragon ride?”

  Anguissa laughed aloud, because her reception at Centurios was exactly the opposite of what she’d dreaded.