Brux drew a long, unsteady breath and straightened his shoulders. If he was to be judged, then so be it.
If the Monstrum Council decided he had committed too great a wrong by surviving, by stowing away, by loving again when perhaps the Goddess had never meant him to, then he would bear that sentence as he must.
But in the private place inside himself where no Council could reach, one truth remained bright and untouchable–Kiera had loved him enough to save him. And for however long he remained sentient—for however long he could still think her name and picture her face and remember the scent of her hair and skin—that truth would stay with him.
It would follow him even into the void and she would be the last person he thought of while he was still capable of sentient thought. Brux closed his eyes and held onto that–held on to her.
It was all he could do.
27
KIERA
Kiera woke to jolting motion, a pounding headache, and the sickening realization that she couldn’t move her arms.
For a moment, she had no idea where she was–everything was dark and shaky and wrong. Her cheek was pressed against cold ribbed metal that smelled like oil and dust and old blood. Every few seconds her whole body bounced hard enough to make her teeth click together, and a sharp ache pulsed behind her eyes in time with the bumps.
Then memory came rushing back in a jagged blur. Waiting for Iyanna’s shuttle…the stink of body odor and sour cream and onion chips…a huge hand over her face and that awful sweet smell.
Higgs. Higgs had her–there could be no doubt.
Panic surged through Kiera so hard it made her stomach turn over. God, she had to get away–right now!
Kiera tried to sit up and nearly rolled straight into the low side rail of whatever she was lying in. Her wrists were tied in front of her and her ankles too—bound so tightly that every movement made the ropes bite into her skin.
She was in the back of some kind of farm hauler, she realized dimly. Not quite a truck and not quite a wagon. The front section was a squat, four—wheeled utility rig with oversized treaded tires and a whining ion—motor instead of an engine, and hitched behind it was a flat cargo sled with metal side rails and no suspension to speak of. That was where she was–in the sled.
The whole rig lurched again as it hit a rut. Kiera tried to brace herself and failed.
Her shoulder slammed into the side rail and then the cart dropped into a deep hole with a bone—jarring crash that bounced her clear off the metal floor. Her head struck the bottom of the cart hard enough to make white light explode behind her eyes and pain shot through her skull.
The world turned gray and wavery. Oh God, she felt so dizzy…
Then everything slid away again.
When she came back, her head was pounding so badly she thought she might throw up.
The sky overhead was a strange washed—out blur of pale purple. Hands that were rough and meaty had her under the arms and were hauling her bodily out of the cart like a sack of feed.
Kiera moaned and tried weakly to twist free.
Above her, Higgs laughed.
“Finally waking up, are you? Well good—now you get to see what turning me down gets you, girly. I'll give you a hint, it was a bad mistake, treating me like you did. A very bad mistake.”
His voice was thick and ugly with satisfaction.
Kiera’s stomach dropped and she blinked hard, trying to clear her vision.
At first all she could make out was Higgs’ his bald, pickle head looming over her like a diseased moon. It was shining faintly with sweat and his overalls were grimy and stained, his bumpy skin damp and glistening. He smelled even worse up close than he had before, all sour body odor and that awful fake—salty snack smell that somehow clung to him no matter what.
She struggled again, but her head was still swimming, and her arms and legs were tied too tightly for her to do anything useful.
“Lemme go,” she mumbled, though the words came out slurred. “You don’t own me–let go of me.”
Higgs just laughed again.
“I don’t think so, girly.”
