This story follows
Getting Lost
and
They're All Crazy.
If you read those first, you'll be more familiar Wy and Lost when you read this one. I'm planning this as a large work, submitting it in one chapter per month. There won't be sex scenes in every chapter, but these three characters do enjoy one another as frequently as possible. ;)
Thank you, RNebular for editing!
I hope you all enjoy this story.
-Guinevere A. Hart
***
Kytia stood at the exit of the Eloua dropship that hovered within the tropopause of Hibreon's atmosphere. Home was only a step away, but it was long step. Her hands were supposed to be sweaty, but the Eloua biotech in the lining of her gloves whisked the moisture away. It was unnatural, alien, wrong. For the last three years of her life, everything had been wrong, except for Wyfrost and Lost. Now they had a chance to go home, and all she had to do was take one step.
Kytia's voice shook when she announced, "I have to pee." She tried to let go of Lost's hand, but suddenly, her petite and delicate witch had a grip of steel.
"Nai,"
Lost replied in their native language. Then in her broken Barter she added, "You not." The witch tilted her head towards the clouds beneath the ship. "Home, Kytia."
Jumping out of a ship was stupid. Kytia tried to free herself once more, but Wyfrost made the decision for all three of them. He stepped from the safety of the Eloua craft, towing Kytia and Lost behind him.
It didn't matter how many times they'd practiced. This was the most unnatural thing Kytia had ever done. It took only seconds for terror to congeal into rage, and she shouted inside her helmet, "I fucking hate this!"
Plummeting along beside her, Lost laughed like a lunatic. To Kytia, "funny" was a ribald anecdote, a practical joke, dogs dressed in people clothes. There was absolutely nothing humorous in their present situation. So, Kytia yelled again, because she had nothing to hit.
Wyfrost's deep and serene voice was in her earpiece then. "Take it easy, Kytia. We've done this again and again. It's all good. Just relax."
She thought he was only calm, because the Eloua had medicated him against his fear of being in enclosed spaces. It was the only way to get him into the armor they'd made for him. Though he was the love of her life, Kytia hated Wyfrost's peace. "Fuck off, Wy!"
He persisted, "I love you, too, dear. But if you don't let go of Lost, she won't be able to cast. I figure we'll get a nice long two and a half minutes to think about what kind of crater we'll make when we hit the ground."
Kytia realized her eyes were tightly closed. She forced them open and looked to her right. Lost's skin-tight suit blazed blue along the left side of her body, for the Eloua had designed it to accommodate the magical marks. She was still giggling, but she watched Kytia expectantly. If she didn't let her witch go, they were all dead.
She released her grip, and Lost cast her spell. The cloud cover warped around them, like a reflection on rippled water. The witch manipulated space and time, controlling their fall with a precision that belied her insane cackling. Passing through Lost's warp made Kytia feel sick to her stomach, and she shut her eyes again.
They landed safely on the stretch of beach they'd aimed for. Kytia silently congratulated herself for not spewing inside her helmet. She immediately took it off and drew in her first breath of home. She dropped her helm, tore off her glove, and sank her fingers deep into the fine, warm sand.
She said, "I used to play here when I was a kid. Almost every summer day we were out here. There was always something fun to do, you know. It's summer now, and it seems weird that no one's here."
Wyfrost answered in a muted tone. "They're slaves now, Kytia. They'll come back once they're freed."
Kytia remembered the day her people fell. The Ay'niki used their energy weapons and turned them to ash— so much ash. She'd seen her best friend's head crushed beneath an enemy boot. Her throat clicked and she gagged on the memory. Ox had been better than her in every way, but she'd lived, and he didn't. The words came with a choked gasp, "If there's anyone left to set free..."
Wyfrost quietly asked, "Hey, you okay?"
She stood up, put her glove back on and grabbed her helmet. It was not the time to get weak and sentimental. "I'm just fine," she answered. Then she called out, "Lost?"
Lost had wandered several yards down the beach. What seemed to hold her attention was a grotto that jutted out into the surf. The woman had her helmet off as well, dangling loosely in her hand. Her back was straight, shoulders squared, long tapered ears tilted forward.
As bold as she'd been, and as much time as she'd spent on the beach, Kytia had never entered the grotto. The place had an otherworldly aura, one that made people steer clear. The hollow spaces moaned and hissed. Creeping shadows seemed to come alive in the crevices. Her adult mind understood the play of light and wind and surf, but she still felt like it was haunted. And it was a good spot for an Ay'niki scout to hide.
Her witch's posture put Kytia on alert. She dropped the helm again and grabbed her three-sectioned staff. The weapon had been built and modified by the Sil, the militant, snake like allies of the Eloua. The ends of the staff could be powered to inflict additional crippling pain when a target is struck. Kytia activated that power, and the weapon hummed to life in her hands.
Her awareness heightened as she searched their environs for an enemy. Kytia stalked up beside Lost and whispered, "What is it? Did you see something? Is it one of those damned aliens?"
Without taking her eyes from the grotto, Lost reached out and gently pressed Kytia's arm down. In their language, she murmured, "No. Put that away."
Impatient, Wy called after the two of them, "Is there a change in the plan?"
From where she stood, Kytia could just see a break in the nearby forest that marked the way home. The narrow, westward path was long and meandering, but it was a path she knew well. Soon, she would see her former home city, Raelinholm. Kytia made a silent vow that there was not a living soul in the multiverse who could ever tear her from her home world. Never again.
Kytia asked Lost, "Well, is there?"
Finally, Lost looked up at Kytia, then at Wy. She seemed to shrug off whatever was troubling her, and she shook her head in the negative. Together, they walked back towards Wyfrost.
Wy looked for a moment into Lost's eyes, and Kytia felt a twinge of jealousy at the way he could read their witch. He summed it up immediately. "You've been here before. Memories coming back to you? Are you going to be alright?"
Lost nodded once and in her pidgin Barter added, "Yeah, m'okay. Me friends— they died. Murder. Buried in that place."
Haunting confirmed,
Kytia thought. It was probably the most Lost had ever said about what had happened to her before. When Kytia and Wy had found Lost, she had no memory of who she was or where she'd come from. The Eloua knew her by the blue swirling tattoos on the left side of her face and body. The aliens had done something to restore her memory, but she had yet to share much of it with Kytia or Wy.
Wyfrost lowered his head and solemnly spoke, "I'm sorry, Lost."
Most of the time, Lost was happy-go-lucky. At times, she was even silly, in Kytia's opinion. Since she'd regained her mind, though, she could turn in an instant, like snuffing out a candle. She would remember something, and it was as if her spirit wandered in a time and place that her loved ones had no access to. It was Kytia's hope that once they'd settled in at Raelinholm and established some kind of normal life, that Lost would open up about what she remembered.
They could never settle in Raelinholm if they didn't take it back from the Ay'niki first. They had a job to do, and Kytia wanted to be about it. Making a quick decision, she declared, "Once we've driven out the gods forsaken blue-skins, we'll come back here. If we can find their remains, we'll lay your friends to rest with some proper dignity. I promise, sweetie."
The three of them headed down the narrow, graveled path toward the city. They stopped just at the edge of the woods, where the path met a true road. From there, they could see the walls of Raelinholm and the strip where the Ay'niki launched their fighters to engage the Eloua ships in orbit. Though there were guards on the walls, most of the blue-skins were focused on the sudden orbital attack.
The Eloua had decided to help Kytia take her home world back from the Ay'niki who had enslaved and decimated her people. Her allies considered themselves pacifists, but for centuries they'd employed the militant and technologically advanced Sil. The snake-like Sil were devoted to the Eloua to the point of near worship. According to Lost, the Eloua's "peace" simply meant they didn't want to get their own hands dirty.
A war had just been started on her behalf, and Kytia worried over the kind of debt she'd owe for it. The Eloua wanted a place on Hibreon for research, they'd told her. They were nocturnal beings who lived under the sea. Once she had her home back, supposedly she'd never know they were there. Still, over the past three years, Kytia had learned hard that nothing good ever came cheap.
She didn't trust the Eloua, but Wy and Lost did. Kytia wanted to be wrong. So, she'd swallowed that concern, shoving it down into her gut where it could join the rest of the emotions she didn't want to deal with. Wyfrost, she thought, was smarter than she was. And Lost, in her own way, was much wiser. She trusted her lovers.
