Kade by Tasha Black
Kade
Kade closed his mouth and willed himself to keep it closed.
Something was going on with this woman of his, and if he wanted to find out what it was without losing her, he was going to have to be patient.
The dragon raged in his chest, snarling fiery judgement.
And while the dragon’s ancient wisdom often steered him right, Kade was very sure that in this case, his own instincts were the right ones.
“Let’s go home,” Aurora whispered tersely. “I’ll tell you there.”
He was shocked at how the word home sounded in his heart. They had dwelled in that small cottage for only a few hours. And they had spent most of that time scrubbing eggs off the floor and furnishings.
Yet it was home to her and Lyra, and to him as well.
It was their home, together.
She was already striding in the front door, a resolute expression on her lovely face.
Lyra had settled again in the sling, so he guessed they would have a few minutes to talk before she woke for a snack.
He wasn’t surprised she was asleep again already. The babe had only whimpered in the first place because he had nudged her.
Ethel had asked Aurora something she didn’t want to answer, and the dragon had sensed Aurora’s discomfort.
So Kade had done the only thing he could think of, and nudged the child to wakefulness as if he were ringing a doorbell.
“Sorry, Lyra,” he whispered into her downy hair.
“Okay,” Aurora said when he had closed the door behind them. “Sit down.”
She had pointed at the sofa, so he sat, feeling disappointed that she wasn’t going to sit next to him and tell him intimately about her past.
She had already begun pacing the floor of the small living room, a scowl on her face.
“I’ve told you a little about life on Terra-4,” she began. “But I can already see that everything about it would have been a surprise to you. We have none of the luxuries of the inner Terran planets, none of the resources of places like Ignis-7.”
He nearly flinched at the mention of his own home planet.
“We Terrans scavenge, scrimp and often just do without, so we can share what little we have to survive,” she went on. “We treasure one another, and we cherish our freedom and our pride.”
He nodded. This was noble, a humble but worthy background for the mother of this whelp. Lyra was a lucky girl.
“But the Cerulean soldiers on our planet take that from us,” she said, jaw clenched.
Suddenly there was another fire in those azure eyes of hers.
“They jail us for any offense, or sometime for none at all. They humiliate us for sport,” she said. “And now that Ambassador Scott has announced the planned removal of troops from the outer Terran planets, it’s only gotten worse.”
Kade had heard about this. The intergalactic Ambassador Selena Scott had been on a luxury space cruise where her life had been saved by a member of the Terran military. Ambassador Scott had listened to the woman’s story and vowed to help.
Of course this was a politically dangerous move, one that had nearly gotten her assassinated.
Ironically, the ambassador had been saved by a member of the very Cerulean forces she had vowed to recall.
It had dominated the newsfeeds for a time.
“They abuse us at every chance,” Aurora was saying. “And we’re used to that. But sometimes we fight back.”
“How?” Kade asked.
He knew the Ceruleans were well armed, and impeccably trained. There prowess was nearly as well-known as his own Invicta warriors. It seemed unlikely a scruffy band of Terrans could do much to avenge themselves on a professional force.
“Different things,” Aurora said, shrugging. “Stealing their food stores and weapons when we can. Setting fires near their barracks to wake them in the night when we can’t.”
Kade nodded.
“Some of the rebels have even learned to make bombs with the ingredients we can scavenge or steal,” she said carefully.
Something about this was starting to sound familiar.
Aurora paused for a long time, as if considering her next words. He was almost sure she had decided not to continue, when she spoke again.
“I did something I can never undo,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But what they were trying to do was too much. There is nothing I wouldn’t have sacrificed to stop it.”
She paused her pacing and gazed into the lamplight, as if she were watching some faraway scene play out.
“They knew Ambassador Scott was coming,” she said. “She planned to visit Terra-4 to dismiss the Cerulean Guard with a ceremony. It was supposed to make them feel better about the whole thing. They would all get medals, and we would finally be rid of them. Everyone would be happy.”
Kade nodded. He understood the politics of the thing. Ambassador Scott was trying her best to end the occupation on a high note. Or at least to let both parties save face.
“My friend Electra was on recon duty the day before,” Aurora said. “She came back looking like she’d seen a ghost.”
Aurora swallowed and looked him right in the eye.
“She told me the Ceruleans were planning to blow up the airfield where Ambassador Scott’s ship was going to land,” she said. “And they were going to do it with a bomb made to look like one of ours. They were going to kill the Ambassador, and put the blame on us Terrans. It would have disintegrated any chance we had at ending the occupation, and given them all the justification they needed to continue treating us however they saw fit.”
The whole story was coming back to him now, though he wasn’t sure what she could possibly have to do with it.
“I was one of the rebels who knew how to make those bombs,” Aurora told him. “I worked in the kitchens, so I knew a bit about chemistry and compounds. And I had a steady hand.”
He nodded, trying not to show the amazement he felt.
“I couldn’t let that happen,” she told him simply.
“What did you do?” he asked.
“I went to the airfield the night before,” she told him. “I was going to defuse the bomb.”
He gazed at her in wonder. Everything about what she had intended to do was incredibly brave.
“But those stupid soldiers didn’t bother to add a failsafe,” she said softly. “Even when we had no materials, no resources, nothing, we never built a bomb without a failsafe. There was only one thing to do.”
“Set it off early,” Kade said.
“Set it off early,” she agreed.
So the rebels hadn’t set off a bomb to try to kill the ambassador.
They had set off a bomb to save her.
He watched as Aurora lifted her hand to the scarf around her head and tugged, releasing a waterfall of fiery curls. And the full weight of the realization dawned on him.
“You’re the Fox,” he murmured.
“I’m the Fox,” she agreed.