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Chapter fifteen

The Fray

Elliott watched him disappear, anxious nausea clenching in his gut.

The audacity that Niko possessed, trying to save the life of an old, toothless bounty hunter—who’d outright begged them to kill him in their last encounter—made Elliott want to spit his name in a curse.

But that was who Niko was. Selfless, brilliant, radiant.

And it was why Elliott had fallen so hopelessly in love with him.

Niko had also had every reason to let Elliott himself die back on Neema, not all that long ago. To earn his bounty and lifelong prestige, and keep his own family safe and at peace. And far, far away from any sort of nightmare like ending up in the Imperial Palace of Haneen had been.

But he hadn’t then, either.

Elliott paused, gaze scanning the dense forest around them, the sharp, conical spires of the palace they’d just fled from on the eastern horizon flanking the city, a sobering reminder of the real danger not far from them at any given moment.

An eerie chill settled over him, creeping along each vertebra, making him shiver.

Best get in the ship.

It was armored, it was stealthed—both qualities he was painfully lacking at the moment. And he could get it airborne in mere seconds if the need arose.

If I don’t make it back…

Niko’s words haunted him and he felt sick. He swiftly swallowed the thought. He wouldn’t go there, wouldn’t allow himself. Elliott couldn’t imagine continuing on without Niko now. He didn’t know if he would have the strength—or sanity—left to.

He needed to check on Niko’s family. To see if the thing called Khaathra had done anything more to them than they’d initially let on in the chaos and rush of getting them out safely. They could be wounded and he hadn’t fully realized. He hadn’t had the time nor luxury to assess them further.

He turned to ascend the ramp into the Sonadora , when silver flashed by the corner of his vision and ricocheted off the invisible side of the ship, where it tumbled across the gravel before skidding to a stop.

A second later, his cheek began to sting, something warm trickling down it.

Elliott reached up to touch it, stunned.

Blood.

No. No, no—

He stared down at the offending object on the ground. Five protruding, wicked points, one still tipped with a smear of fresh crimson, told him immediately what it was. A Gheroun star knife.

He spun on his heel, trembling hands struggling to aim his rifle in the direction it had been thrown from. He was entirely exposed and vulnerable.

Then he saw her, emerald tentacles wrapped tightly around several more star knives.

Imperator Khaathra.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, her three eyes far too wide, her teeth bared in a predatory grin. “This ends here. And I’m going to enjoy every second of breaking you.”

Elliott’s heart leapt into his throat, veins turning to ice.

It was instinct to flee—he almost always chose survival.

But he didn’t even have the time to—she’d managed to move quietly enough through the forest to catch him unaware.

She was on him in an instant, bearing down on him before he could even get a shot in or flee back up the ramp.

Her tentacles were everywhere, some twining tightly around his wrists and legs, others doling out vicious, quick slices with five-pointed knives that he barely dodged in time.

They laced around his arms like boa constrictors, tightening him in a vice grip so painful he was forced to drop Repartee.

Already, he was being quickly overwhelmed as she tangled him in herself.

He’d been so stupid before, deactivating his stealth to talk to Niko. Or maybe she’d just sniffed them out from their trail of all but neon breadcrumbs of footprints and trampled foliage leading back to the ship.

Elliott’s pulse hammered in his chest, his throat, his ears, so hard that it ached.

No matter what happened, he couldn’t afford to let Khaathra get through him and into the Sonadora Despierta .

He wouldn’t let her take Niko’s family back.

Elliott knew exactly what animals like her did.

She wouldn’t be so “kind” a second time around.

Her videos showed she worked a well-hidden rage and aggression out on helpless, unarmed people, forcing them to engage in a sadistic mockery of a fight against her.

It always ended the same.

The lives of Niko’s family, more than ever, were in his hands now. If he failed here and fell to her, it wouldn’t just be himself suffering. He would fail Niko. He would let the people he loved most meet the same repulsive fate that Cleo once had.

He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t.

A memory bloomed in the back of his mind, even as Khaathra wrapped herself around his limbs, constraining them.

Cleo had been his defender once. She’d taken their father on, the towering goliath that he’d been at the time.

She’d gotten in his way, had been the wall, the barrier that had cut off the drunken man’s access to hurting Elliott.

She’d pushed back. She’d taken the hits and bore the hurts, instead.

Words, once spoken with defiance and desperation, echoed through his mind.

Dad, leave him alone! I won’t let you hurt him!

Stay back, Ellie. I’m going to handle this.

You’ll have to go through me first. Come on, then!

She’d saved him.

She had always been his hero. Cleo had taught him bravery.

Breathe in, he told himself. Remember what you’ve learned. Apply it. You still have options.

He willed himself to meet the monster who had come for them all.

She was a violent, hateful creature, and when she’d said she would enjoy hurting him, Elliott knew she had meant it.

He wouldn’t let her through, wouldn’t let her near the ship which was the last bastion of safety for two vulnerable civilians who never should have had any part in this. His fight had never been theirs.

A preternatural calm fell over him then. Elliott was going to best the Gheroun Imperator. He would win. There was no other choice. There was no other option. Dying here wasn’t a possibility, because he wouldn’t let it be.

“You’re right,” he said. “This ends here. How kind of you to make it so convenient for me. And you didn’t even bring your guards. It’s a wonder your keepers let you out all by yourself.”

His words were more than just a taunt; it was something he really needed to know.

If she had the backup the head of an empire would normally have waiting out among the trees, he’d quickly be in over his head.

He twisted his left wrist at an angle that sent a sharp and shooting pain up his forearm but made it difficult for her to keep her grip on him, and managed to just barely slip it free.

Then he wasted no time, grasping for the knife at his hip.

“I don’t need them here to put you in your place, you little parasite,” she said. “What I’m going to do to you isn’t for civilized eyes.”

She’d really shown up alone. His lucky knife had brought him good fortune, after all.

Time to test that luck again.

He pried it free of its sheath and engaged in the single best way to shut down a Gheroun in close combat: he jammed it into the tentacle that gripped his other wrist and ripped the blade straight through.

With an anguished shriek, Imperator Khaathra’s appendage came partially free, the end dangling off now as ultramarine blood spurted from it.

It didn’t stop her onslaught though; the madwoman was an experienced, honored fighter among her people.

And Elliott knew from her dirty little secret that she more than craved the violence.

But it was enough to free his right arm.

He didn’t let up against the Imperator either, pushing back into her tangled form and slicing for another tentacle, while narrowly dodging her own attempt to behead him with a furious swipe.

She prioritized Elliott’s knife, grappling desperately to try and wrench it from him.

He twisted his arm again, though, this time in the opposite direction, and in a swift, fluid maneuver, brought his blade arcing straight through another tentacle, severing it clean off.

Cleo’s voice wove through his thoughts once more, a thread of light among the tumultuous horror of the fight he was in now.

Time and time again, she’d shown up for him, had protected him, had risen to the challenge of someone bigger, stronger.

After each hit, she’d gotten up and faced their abuser again.

He’s your son! He’s just a child!

You’re an absolute monster. You treat everyone like they’re beneath you!

This isn’t love. This isn’t family. This is just your ego wanting to lash out against the people who depended on you!

Elliott had mourned the loss of the avian costume mask she’d gifted him. It had given him the illusion she was still with him, a phantom watching over him through the worst of it. But he didn’t need the mask anymore to feel that. It was never what had mattered.

Know your place, you stupid bitch, their father had once slurred at her, in a rage and riled up when she’d refused to back down after he’d become aggressive toward Elliott for taking apart their grandfather’s watch.

No, she’d replied, head held high. I know my place, and it will never be beneath you again.

Khaathra tried to send him to the ground, grabbing him by the leg and jerking to the right. He predicted her though, using the momentum to half-spin and carve into another one of her assaulting tentacles.

Breathe, he willed himself. Just like you trained. Move to the left. Drive the knife into her right. Match her on the right. Defend. Push into it, shift with her and flow. Left kick to the abdomen. Use her unbalancing against her. Exploit the advantage.