The Defiant
Chapter Thirty

In the stunned seconds of inaction by the guests, I wrenched my wrist from Davalos’ grip. He was surprisingly strong, and I felt a bone snap with a shock of pain as I twisted free. Raising my good fist, I socked him in the face and took off running, blowing past the still-shocked guests and into a servant’s entrance.

As chaos broke out in the ballroom behind me, I kept running, stuffing the comm into my ear as I passed servants carrying tray of food.

“Where?” I bellowed at Two as I rounded a corner and found myself in the kitchen, surrounded by servants, cooks, and gleaming appliances.

“You’re in the kitchen? Back door behind the shelf of cookbooks. What’s going on?” Two’s voice came through the comm.

“We’ve been found out. They’re after us! Which way?” I asked at the bottom of the stairs behind the door.

“Take two lefts, then a right past the wine barrels.” The channel cut off, and I knew he’d switched channels to give directions to one of the others.

I sprinted past crates of food, silk-shoed feet slipping on the slightly-damp cellar floor. I followed Two’s instructions, taking a nearly-hidden right turn behind a stack of wine barrels and finding Six and Two standing in front of a closed door. Six knelt in front of the door, picking the lock.

“Hurry!” Two called into his comm, then shut it off to face me as I skidded into the small corridor.

“What happened?” he asked urgently.

“Davalos found me out. He’s coming for us. I’m not sure the others could have gotten away,” I gasped between pants.

Four and Seven rounded the corner at a run and joined us, proving me wrong. “What happened?” Four demanded, slipping back into her accent.

“I’ll tell you back on the ship. No time now. Did you see anyone get captured?”

They both shook their heads, but then Five appeared, followed a second later by Three.

“What—”

I cut him off. “Later!” Behind me, the lock clicked, and Six muscled the door open.

The room wasn’t what I was expecting. Bare walls, dripping ceiling, something like that. Not a three room apartment with deluxe furniture and cushy carpets. Four barged in immediately, followed by the rest of us, looking for the passenger.

“Hello?” a man’s voice, curiously accented, drifted out from one of the adjoining rooms. “Who is there?”

I exchanged a look with the others.

“The Aerzhu sent us to transport you back to Earth,” Three spoke up.

“Ah. Iea aeruyes feoise. My little rescuers. In Sedhan, you know,” the voice said calmly, getting closer to where we stood in the center of the main room.

The adjoining door opened wider, and the passenger stepped out. We all stared at him, totally silent.

He was tall, in his mid twenties, and attractive, with a strong jaw and chiseled cheekbones. His liquid brown eyes took our motley crew in. He ran his hands through his dark hair, and, glancing at the rips and dirt streaks on our clothing, said,

“We seem to be in a bit of a hurry, yes? One moment while I retrieve my bag.” He returned to the adjoining room.

“We don’t have a moment. We have to leave now!” Four said.

“We can’t!” Five interrupted, panicked. “Eight’s still up there!”

I looked around quickly. Two was right. Our eight-person crew was one member short.

“Never fear, fosipae. Children. There is an exit just down the hall that I saw when they brought me down here. I believe it goes to the garage where the Prime Minister keeps his hovercars. Surely this is a good way to get to the spaceport, no?” the passenger said serenely, returning to the central room and settling himself into a chair. Two and Six left the room immediately, presumably to check out the exit.

I narrowed my eyes. “You sure seem to know a lot. Why are we doing this? Are you a prisoner? Why haven’t you escaped before now? Who are you?”

“No, minieka. I will not answer these questions. But you will know soon enough.” He smiled blandly at me.

All of a sudden, a series of bumps and thuds echoed from the corridor. I left the room at a run, tearing a bit of my ballgown off on the doorframe as I went.

“Get off!” Eight yelled from the floor, kicking repeatedly at the guard in Cebosian dress who held fast to her ankle.

I immediately sized up the situation. The guard was alone, but surely where one was, more would follow. We had a good chance of beating him, but it would probably create noise, which wasn’t a good idea if there was in fact no exit at the end of the hall. But we had to save Eight…

Behind me, I heard a deep, animalistic roar. I turned around, startled. Had the Cebosians sent a lion after us?

Five sprinted past me, still roaring, and leapt at the guard, crushing him to the floor. Five punched his face, hard, blood spurting from a broken nose.

Five continued to beat the guard, sinking his fists into his face, his chest, wherever he could reach. Alarmed, I ran forward to pull him off, which took a surprising amount of effort.

His knuckles bloodied and bruised, Five ran over to Eight. I returned to the guard, who was unconscious, bruises blooming all over him and blood still gushing from his nose. I felt frantically for a pulse, and exhaled in relief when I found one.

“What happened?” Two asked, arriving at the scene with Six. He took in the sight of the unconscious guard and Five and Eight on the floor. “Ah.”

“Is there an exit?” I asked urgently.

“Yeah, back that way a stretch. Stairs lead up to a trapdoor.” Two answered, motioning over his shoulder, back the way they’d come.

“Good. We have to go now.” I heard the sounds of feet descending the cellar stairs, lots of them. Two ran down the corridor I’d come from, returning a moment later with the remainder of our crew and the passenger.

We plunged ahead into the hallway leading to the exit, Six leading the way.

Behind me, I heard the sound of someone falling. I turned back to see Eight on the ground, clutching the ankle that the guard had been holding. Five bent over her and lifted her into his arms as the guards in pursuit of us rounded the corner.

“There they are!” Davalos shouted from the head of the group.

Six rushed ahead, climbing the set of stairs and shoving up a trapdoor in the ceiling. We surged up the steps, emerging into a large, dimly lit room with rows of hovercars parked along the walls. Three ran to the one closest to us, punching through the glass of the windshield and climbing through, her movements hampered and awkward because of her dress. I slammed the trapdoor shut behind us and locked it with a latch in the floor.

“Let’s go!” Three called from the hovercar as she turned the engine on. We piled into the back, Five still carrying Eight. I heard the guards in the tunnel below us reach the trapdoor and slam on it.

“Drive!” Four screamed.

“But the doors!” Eight pointed to the huge wooden doors at the end of the garage.

“If you get enough velocity, we can ram through them! Go!” Four cried as the guards smashed through the trapdoor.

Three turned on the hover feature, then stepped on the accelerator so hard my head whipped backward. We barreled across the long garage in a matter of seconds, the smooth flight of the hovercar belying the heart-racing speed at which we were moving.

“Cover your heads!” Seven called as we reached the doors. I hunkered down behind the barrier between the front and back seats and covered my neck as we slammed against the doors with incredible force.

A huge jolt rocked the car. Shards of wood and the remains of the windshield flew back at us as the doors flew open against the force of our assault.

And then we were out, flying under the iron-gray Cebosian sky, outcroppings of obsidian racing by beneath us like waves on a choppy sea.

“One, what happened?” Seven asked, gently lifting my swollen wrist to inspect it. I winced.

“I think it broke when I was trying to get away from Davalos. It doesn’t hurt though, so maybe it’s just sprained.”

“No, it’s definitely broken. You just can’t feel it because of all the adrenaline. I’ll have to set it when we get back to the ship.” She let go of my hand, and I tucked my arm close to my body to protect it from jolts.

“Can you fix my ankle, too?” Eight asked.

“Of course. It looks like it’s just a sprain, though, so the treatment should be quick.”

“So what kind of ship do you have?” The passenger asked politely from where he sat squished between Five and the wall of the hovercar.

“We’re not telling you anything. When we get aboard, you are going into the prison cell, where you will stay until the Aerzhu retrieve you at Earth,” I said sternly.

“As you wish,” he said, then turned to look out the window. Unnerved, I glanced at Four, who shrugged.

The ride lasted ten minutes at top speed. I was starting to get uncomfortable (eight people in Eranian finery packed into a seat built for five is not the most ideal traveling situation), when we reached the spaceport.

Startled bystanders jumped out of the way as we disembarked from our speeding hovercar and ran toward the entrance of the spaceport. I was sure we looked a sight, in ripped ball gowns and guard uniforms, scratched all over and covered in dirt and blood.

Five carrying Eight again, we took the spaceport by storm, rushing down the main thoroughfare while Four searched her pockets for the docking ticket.

“Here!” she cried, raising it triumphantly. “Bays 217 and 218!”

I checked the number of the bay at my left. 143.

“Stop!” cried a voice behind us. I whipped around to see an army of police running toward us. “Stop or we’ll shoot!”

“Faster!” Three yelled, panic in her eyes. We put on more speed, but the police were still gaining. 174. 175.

I heard a gun fire and Two went down. I couldn’t see how badly he was injured. Three turned around, but I shoved her forward, hoping she would understand why we couldn’t go back. She did, and turned back and ran even harder.

“Here!” Four cried as we reached bay 217. She tapped the passcode into the door panel, but it buzzed red. She tried again.

“They’ve locked us out!” she yelled, almost hysterically clawing at the buttons. Six lifted her bodily out of the way, pried the cover off the panel, and ripped out a handful of wires. Lights popped and snapped, but the doors slid open.

We piled into the docking bay. Seven lowered the ramp, and she helped Five carry Eight up. Six and Three rushed up, and she strapped herself into the pilot seat and began the startup sequence.

The police entered the bay. I climbed onto the ramp, holding Four’s wrist with my good hand. One of the officers grabbed her and pulled against me. I pulled back, but he was stronger, nearly overbalancing me as he yanked her backwards off the ramp.

I watched in paralyzed horror as Four was absorbed into the mob of policemen, kicking and scratching like a wild thing.

“Go!” I heard her scream, and, released from my paralysis, I clambered up the rest of the ramp and slammed the shut button.

The ship lifted off, rising out above the spaceport, leaving Four and Two still on the surface.

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