Chapter 4
BALECK
The village was coming alive as I made my way toward its edge, pack secured against my back and supplies for a full day’s journey carefully organized inside, along with a single blaster.
The early morning light painted everything in soft golds and ambers, catching on the stone buildings and wooden supports that lined the main thoroughfare.
After weeks here, I’d grown accustomed to the D’tran settlement, but I still found myself appreciating its design.
The buildings rose organically from the landscape, following the natural contours of the valley floor.
Stone foundations gave way to wooden upper levels, with metal salvaged from ancient wrecks reinforcing the structures.
The doorways and windows were softly curved, and I’d learned this wasn’t just aesthetic.
The shapes helped deflect the fierce winds that occasionally swept down from the mountains.
Water flowed through channels cut into the stone paving beneath my feet, a drainage system elegant in its simplicity.
The sound of it was a constant, quiet burble that had become familiar.
Guard posts stood at regular intervals along the main path, though the guards themselves seemed relaxed this morning.
They nodded as I passed. Their color-shifting eyes tracked me with mild curiosity rather than suspicion.
It had not always been that way for Mierva, Cleo, and me.
We had been called “sky people,” and plenty of the D’tran had not wanted us here.
The settlement had changed, thankfully. There was no longer any tension in the air, and there were fewer wary glances.
The D’tran had accepted that we weren’t a threat.
That we were there to help, and that the prophecy had turned in the “good” direction.
We hadn’t caused them ruin. We’d brought renewal.
Progress, as Sophie liked to say in her reports.
I passed the communal kitchen, where the morning meal was being prepared.
The scent of roasted grain and spiced vegetables made my stomach growl, but the ship had brought a nice supply of lami, the liquid produced by our Solas.
That was all the nourishment I needed, for now.
A group of children ran past, laughing and chasing each other.
One of them nearly collided with my legs, looked up with startled orange eyes, then darted away with a giggle.
The low stone wall that surrounded the village came into view.
It was perhaps one meter high, not designed to stop a determined army but sufficient to discourage casual predators from the surrounding forest. Beyond it, I could see the dense tree line that provided so much of what the D’tran needed.
Wood. Plants for food and medicine. And danger, if you weren’t careful.
There was a rectangular structure ahead, near the wall, and standing beside it was Iris.
She was dressed the same as the day before.
Black bodysuit from neck to boots, weapons arranged with careful precision at hip, thigh, back, and under her arm.
But this time she’d added wraparound sunglasses that concealed her eyes completely.
The overall effect was striking. She reminded me of polished onyx. Beautiful and utterly opaque.
My gaze traveled down the sleek line of her body before I could stop myself. The bodysuit left nothing to the imagination, clinging to slim curves and the lean muscle beneath. She was small, yes, but there was nothing delicate about her. Every line of her body suggested coiled strength. Resilience.
Then I noticed what she was leaning against.
It was a vehicle of some kind. Low to the ground, with a narrow body that curved upward in the front like the prow of a ship.
Where wheels should have been, there were two thick spheres covered in chunky treads.
They looked like they could rotate in any direction.
The whole thing was sleek and dark, with a seat long enough for two people and handles that swept back like wings.
This must have been why we met here, at the storage outbuilding. I hadn’t been expecting to travel on a vehicle like this.
Iris saw me approaching and straightened, turning toward me with a nod that was almost perfunctory. “You’re on time.”
“I try to be.” I stopped beside the vehicle, studying it with open curiosity. “What is this thing?”
“It came with the diplomatic transport and I requested it be left, among some other supplies and equipment. The D’tran allowed us to put up this small, temporary outbuilding for it all.
” She rested one hand on the vehicle’s curved body.
“But this beauty is called a Raycer. Riding it will be more efficient than walking.”
“Efficient,” I repeated. The word sat oddly in my mind. I’d been prepared for a long trek across rough terrain. I’d packed accordingly, my supplies organized for a full day on foot. Her pack, I noticed, was considerably smaller than mine. Perhaps I’d overpacked.
“I wanted to make sure the trip wasn’t too much,” she added.
I felt a flicker of something that might have been offense. I was in excellent shape. She’d seen me handle the mountain climb without difficulty. Did she think I couldn’t manage a day’s hike across the valley?
Then I looked at her face. What little I could see of it beneath the hat and behind the glasses.
Her expression was neutral, as always, but there was something in the set of her shoulders that suggested practicality rather than judgment.
She wasn’t questioning my fitness. She was just…
being efficient. Getting us to the objective faster, with less wasted energy.
It was, I realized, exactly the kind of thinking I should have expected from her.
“Makes sense,” I said, pushing down my initial reaction. “How does it work?”
“Get on behind me and I’ll show you.”
She swung her leg over the seat with practiced ease, settling into the front position with her hands on the winglike handles. The seat behind her was clearly meant for a passenger, with small grips on either side and indentations for feet.
I took a breath and climbed on.
The seat was narrower than I’d expected. To fit properly, I had to tuck my thighs around hers, my knees pressing against the outside of her legs. The position was intimate. Close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from her body despite the cool morning air.
Her hair was pulled back in its usual tight braid, but this close, I could smell it. The scent was confusing. Blaster ozone and flowers. Sharp and sweet, technological and natural, all mixed together in a combination that shouldn’t have worked but somehow did. It was distinctly her.
The small pack she wore pressed against my chest, providing at least some barrier between us. I was grateful for it. Being this close to her was distracting in ways I didn’t want to examine too closely.
“Tuck your arms in close,” she instructed. “The energy shield will keep you stable, but you’ll be more comfortable if you’re not fighting it.”
I pulled my elbows in, resting my hands on my own thighs. Something told me she wouldn’t appreciate me holding onto her.
She touched something on the console and the Raycer hummed to life.
The sound was a deep, resonant purr that I felt more than heard, vibrating up through the seat and into my bones.
Blue lights flickered across the control surface, and then something shimmered into existence around us.
The energy shield wrapped around the vehicle like a bubble, invisible except for a faint distortion at the edges.
The shield felt like a warm wall pressing gently against me from all sides. Not confining, exactly, but present. Supportive. It would keep us steady, even at high speeds, I understood. Keep us from being thrown off when the vehicle turned or accelerated.
“Ready?” Iris asked.
Before I could answer, she hit the accelerator.
The Raycer shot forward with a force that pressed me back against the rear of the seat.
The rollerballs beneath us spun with impossible smoothness, carrying us over the path and through the gap in the wall with barely a vibration.
Forest blurred past on either side, and then we were racing toward the dark mouth of the tunnel that cut through the mountainside.
I took a deep breath and tried to relax.
This was new. I’d traveled on Solas my entire life.
The massive living ships that moved through space with a grace that belied their size.
I’d been in escape pods and transport vessels.
I’d been on stolen Brakken vehicles that stunk of death and horror as my species fought for our lives in a war that nearly ended us.
I knew sensations of acceleration and artificial gravity.
But this was different. This was speed I could feel in my gut, rushing air that the energy shield barely contained, ground that flew beneath us at a pace that made my heart race.
Part of me was in awe. The technology was impressive, the sensation exhilarating.
Another part of me, a larger part than I wanted to admit, was afraid.
Not of Iris’s skill as an operator. She handled the Raycer with quiet competence.
But of the sheer velocity, the nearness of the ground, the rocks and debris that flashed by close enough to touch.
Then we plunged into the tunnel and everything went dark.
I tensed, my hands gripping my thighs hard enough to leave marks. The blackness was absolute, swallowing even the blue glow of the console. I couldn’t see the walls of the tunnel, couldn’t judge how close they were, couldn’t tell if we were about to crash into an obstacle that Iris hadn’t noticed.
Then I leaned forward, peering over her shoulder, and saw the display.
The console showed our path clearly, a glowing representation of the tunnel rendered in lines of blue light.
Every curve, every variation in the walls, every meter of distance was laid out before us.
Iris wasn’t navigating blind. The Raycer’s systems were showing her exactly where to go, even in the total darkness.
They were possibly even helping to steer us.
I relaxed slightly. Just slightly.
The tunnel seemed to go on forever, though it was probably only a few minutes. When we finally emerged on the other side, the sudden brightness hit me like a physical blow.
I hissed, throwing up a hand to shield my eyes. The morning sun was higher now. The landscape beyond the mountain was open and exposed. Light reflected off every surface, amplified by morning dew on the new green growth that was reclaiming the storm-scarred terrain.
Iris turned her head. I couldn’t see her eyes behind those wraparound sunglasses, but I caught the hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. She reached up, pulled off the glasses, and held them back toward me.
“The light doesn’t bother me as much,” she said.
I stared at her for a moment, recognizing my own words from the day before. When I’d given her my coat. When I’d offered warmth and she’d accepted it with that same quiet, pragmatic acceptance.
“Thank you,” I said, and took the glasses.
They fit well enough, though they were designed for a smaller face.
The world dimmed to something manageable, the harsh brightness fading to bearable levels.
I could see now. The rocky terrain ahead of us, dotted with obstacles.
The distant ridge where that metallic gleam had caught Iris’s attention.
The vast, open landscape that stretched in every direction.
The Raycer shot forward again, and my stomach lurched.
Iris guided us around rocks and over rough ground with an ease that should have been reassuring.
The rollerballs adapted to every surface, the energy shield kept us stable, and her hands on the controls were steady and sure.
My body wasn’t convinced. Every sudden turn, every burst of acceleration sent my insides spinning.
I closed my eyes and breathed. Her hair was right there, that unique scent of ozone and flowers filling my nose. I focused on it instead of the motion, let it anchor me as the world rushed past in a blur of speed and sound.
Spending time with Iris, I decided, was like an adventure that felt like an arena battle. Every interaction was a challenge, every moment a test of reflexes and instincts. She gave nothing away, revealed nothing she didn’t choose to reveal, and kept me constantly off balance.
And I wasn’t sure, if it came down to it, that I would emerge the victor. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to.