Warlord and the Waif by Chloe Parker

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

ELLA

I’M MARRIED AND I’m about to go to outer space.

It feels like just three weeks ago, I was taking the train to California, the Vietnam War the object of all my anger and rage. But in reality, one hundred and fifty years have passed since then, and I’m about to see the stars for the first time. On the deck of the Fury, holding on tight through our ascent, this time and place suddenly starts to feel like home.

I clutch Calder’s arm as we press through the clouds, my ears popping like they do on commercial flights on Earth. It’s not nearly as turbulent as the two flights I’ve taken, so I figure there must be some kind of technology that keeps the interior of the ship stable. We hit a couple bumps that almost send me sprawling, but I hang on to Calder with an excited smile.

It takes my breath away when the clouds break and we enter orbit.

The interior of the ship stills and I exhale, the gravity still there but strange. My hair floats around me, even as my feet stick to the floor. I have so many questions about how this ship works, the science of space travel, but there will be time for questions later.

For now, I just take in the view.

It’s more beautiful than I could have imagined, to the point where it brings tears to my eyes. The galaxy stretches in endless, glittering stars around the Fury’s masthead, the planet below us ringed in a rainbow of blue and violet light. I see the distorted clouds of a nebula in the distance, and wonder if one day I’ll go there.

The possibilities are endless, the future an expanse of light.

“The Hyperborean satellite is firing on us!” Portia shouts, “Brace for impact.”

Chairs emerge from the floor underneath us, and Calder sits back into an ornate throne, strapping himself in. I find the nearest seat and do the same, mimicking the others’ motions. I get into my seat just quickly enough to stay secure when the ship rocks, and my heart runs away without me.

“Are we going to be okay?” I shout, unable to control the panic in my voice.

Calder is totally distracted, his hands skimming across the command console. But Jack clears his throat from the seat across from me, and it sets me at ease that he has a perfectly relaxed smile on his face.

“The Fury is a goliath compared to that satellite,” Jack offers. He pauses when another hit lands, the noise deafening. “We’ll just need to get close enough to fire back.”

“And how close is that?”

Another hit rocks us and Jack grins.

“Should be right about now.”

My jaw drops when I feel a rumble that shakes the whole ship, and a beam of neon light shoots out of the masthead’s mouth. It aims straight at what looks like a small moon in the distance, and I let out a surprised laugh when an explosion glimmers on its surface.

“Why can’t we hear it?” I ask, “Shouldn’t it be louder?”

Jack quirks his lips in a half-smile.

“We’re in space, love,” he says, “There’s no sound in vacuum.”

Getting a physics lesson from a pirate isn’t something I ever thought I’d be doing, but here we are.

We zoom closer to the satellite, firing the whole time. At this distance, I can make out more detail and see how much damage we’re doing, but it’s not enough. A beam of light fires back from the sphere and I grip the armrests of the ship as we shift to the right, the beam glancing off the side of the ship.

“That was too close,” Calder growls, and Portia snickers.

“Sorry, I suppose we’re a bit rusty,” she says, then points through the window, “Look! The Hyperborean ships!”

“Don’t shoot them down!” Jack warns, “I sent some friends to the spaceport to cause a distraction. Looks like they followed through.”

Other ships race out of the atmosphere to join us, all firing at the satellite. The Fury joins in the fray, lashing out at the satellite with one more powerful beam.

In a spectacular and noiseless light-show, the satellite explodes.

Some of the aliens on the bridge whoop in celebration and I join them almost by accident, raising my voice with theirs. Calder glances over at me approvingly, and when he goes to unstrap from his seat I do the same.

“Send a message to the indentures on Oddí,” Calder orders, “The satellite has been eliminated. Airspace around Myste is now free roam, and any remaining residents should get off the planet while they can.”

“Should I tell them where they can meet us?” Portia asks.

He smiles at me.

“Tell them we’re going to Kanin,” he says, extending a hand to me, “I’m taking my bride home.”

I take Calder’s arm and we head to the front of the ship, surveying the expanse of stars beyond. I still can’t believe that I’m here and that we’ve escaped. The night’s events hit me like a bullet and my knees go weak.

Calder catches me, pulling me into his arms and bracing me against his chest. I reach back to run my fingers over the smooth skin of his shoulders in satisfaction, a tangible sign of the love that’s grown between us. I should be entranced by the view, but all I can do is look into his stardust eyes and marvel at what we’ve done.

Today, I liberated a whole city.

I defeated an evil, vindictive slaver in a battle of my own.

But there were losses, many of them devastating. After we’re underway, we gather at an airlock and say our goodbyes to Lucien, his body wrapped in a shroud and his eyes closed in peace. I didn’t even get a chance to thank him, after he did so much to help me.

I reach into my pocket for his key to the castle, the thing that saved all of us by opening the gate and by binding me and Calder together.

But instead, my fingers find my brother’s dog tags.

Patrick would have loved this. To see the stars, to travel aboard a spaceship. I like to think he would be proud of me, even if I didn’t get a victory in the battle I fought for him. He was such a geek, could quote Star Trek by heart, watched every episode before he went to Vietnam and never came home.

Calder raises a brow as I fiddle with the dog tags, biting my lip.

“My brother,” I tell him, realizing I’ve never mentioned Patrick to the man I love. “He…he died a long time ago, and I never really said goodbye.”

Calder nods in understanding, taking my other hand and gesturing at the casket.

“I would be honored if you sent him with Lucien,” he says, “No one should be alone in the vastness of space.”

I lower the dog tags into the casket, pressing them to Lucien’s chest. It’s time for me to let go of that life, and to begin a new one. The galaxy stretches out before me, and I take comfort in the notion that what I have left of my brother will fly through the stars with our fallen friend.

As we launch Lucien’s casket into space to traverse the galaxy forever, Calder holds me in his arms. There are more battles to be fought, cities to liberate, and magisters to slay.

And we’re going to do it together.