Stolen by the Zandian (Zandian Brides 7)

I have no business doing anything except waiting for Khrys. But the idea of escaping grows stronger. My heart races.

“Yes. Start engines. Prepare for takeoff.”

“Affirmative.”

Lights flash and beeps ring out as the ship begins—apparently—to ready itself for imminent departure. Engines deep within the structure hum to life and a barely discernible thrum, like a heartbeat, comes up through my boots and into my body.

“Starter engines ignited.”

It feels good. It feels like safety—and freedom. Things I’ve never known. Things I’ve wanted as long as I’ve been alive.

“Booster engines ready. Thrusters ready. Hyperdrive ready. Preparing life systems.”

There’s just one thing flashing red, waiting to enable.

I could leave—without Khrys. I could take off with this craft—this priceless piece of tech that can practically fly itself—and find a free planet. It’s not impossible.

“I’m smart,” I whisper.

The whimmet leaps to my lap and presses itself to my chest. Squeak.

“I could learn,” I say, resting one hand on the console. “I could figure it out. And if I crash—oh well. At least I gave it my best shot. At least I wouldn’t be a slave any longer.”

I think about my friends—Ina and Anya, Agniezka and Ruta. “Are they alive?” I ask.

There’s no being who can answer me.

“Are they at an auction too, being sold for stein? Maybe they’re still on Reneron.” That’s the way station where Kraa like to store their auctionable items before heading over to the sales planet. “Instead of going to Zandia, I could find them. Save them.”

I find that I seem to be speaking to the whimmet, who looks up at me with her golden eyes (I think it’s a she) like she’s listening.

Rrrrr, she agrees, whipping her furry blue tail along my arm.

I wince. “Stop that. You’re full of mud,” I chastise her, but my voice is gentle.

“I miss them,” I whisper to the whimmet, my eyes blurring with tears. She settles into my lap and pushes her paws rhythmically into my leg.

“Life systems enabled. Craft is ready for liftoff.” The ship’s console flashes with green. “Awaiting command.”

I chew my lower lip. The rain beats down on the ship even harder. Soon it will probably be hail.

The fact that Khrys hasn’t returned probably means he’s dead. That thought brings a crippling stab of pain, right through the center of my chest, but I push it aside. I need to think this through. The longer I wait, the longer I increase the chance of the locals finding and attacking the ship.

But what if Khrys is still out there—alive? What if he needs my help? My heart twists in my chest and anguish makes me stand.

The whimmit leaps to the ground gracefully. Rrrrr, she says.

“What if he needs me?”

I look to the console. All I need to do is push one button, and I’ll be free, on my own.

But then I see Krhys’ face in my mind. Feel his touch. Remember the closeness we felt in the cave.

The console repeats. “Awaiting command.”

Sweet Mother Earth. What should I do?

Chapter 9