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  ~ THE RISING TRILOGY ~

  Book Three

  Vengeance

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  Copyright © 2014 by Amy Miles Books, LLC.

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  Acknowledgements

  For my family.

  PROLOGUE

  Bastien stares up into the twilight sky, amazed not for the first time by the rings of color that splash across the vast expanse before him. They glow with far more brilliance than any colors he has ever glimpsed back on Earth. The colors appear rich in depth, as if they might feel like velvet if he were to stretch out his hand to touch them. Perhaps this mirage is brought on by the mists that cling to this moon, or perhaps his voluntary exile has finally begun to riddle his mind.

  Two of the other moons that orbit the planet Calisted hang in the sky before him, each boasting a vibrant intensity of shifting hues. He likes this time of night, when the animals begin to bed down and an eerie silence falls across the land.

  It is quiet here on the rooftop. Away from the men. Away from the demands of his work. He doesn’t complain about his duties. In fact, he embraces them with more fervor than most. The tranquility of this place calls to him and yet, in the midst of such beauty, Bastien finds himself missing her.

  “Commander Bastien?” a hushed voice calls from behind, low enough not to startle him.

  Bastien stifles a groan as he rises from his knees. His arms feel heavy after a full day of training. He has heard several of his men wondering aloud if their commander trains out of fear of a coming revolt within Calisted’s new government, but this is not the true reason for his absolute drive toward excellence. He has complete faith in the new leadership.

  No. He trains to keep himself from thinking of those he left behind on Calisted only a few short months ago.

  “I asked not to be disturbed.” He wipes the beads of sweat from his brow with a towel and grabs his shirt. A heavy layer of lean muscle ripples along his shoulders as the soft black material falls over his head. The sweat has failed to dry completely from his body, though he finished training long ago. The hair around his forehead and the nape of his neck is moist, leaving him feeling in sore need of a cold shower.

  “My apologies, sir,” his second-in-command says. Bastien likes Callum. He is young and eager, though sometimes that eagerness can be a little annoying, despite Kyan’s assurance that Callum is mature enough to handle the responsibility. “There has been a call from Calisted and your presence is requested.”

  Bastien’s throat constricts as he turns to face the boy. He is only little more than a year younger than himself and yet their age difference seems to be as great as the Riptal ravine less than a hundred yards from where he stands. It is a vast, beautiful chasm filled with lush tropical plants and fruits so large you have to hold them with two hands.

  “From who?” He tosses his towel to the side, vowing to come back and return his training mats when he is finished. If there is one thing Bastien prides himself on the most, it is keeping things neat and orderly. No good commander can allow disorganization to slip through his ranks or chaos will ensue.

  Callum holds out a small note, written on a heavy stock of paper. Bastien can easily spy the black ink that has stained the fibers. “Kyan sent this as well.”

  Bastien has known this moment was coming. He has feared its arrival for several months now. Without opening the letter, he knows why Kyan asked Callum to be the one to give Bastien the message. His gait falters slightly as he glances back toward Calisted.

  He had hoped with enough distance and time that the ache in his chest would begin to fade, but deep down he knows that he will never truly be whole without her by his side.

  “Are you alright, sir?” Callum asks, reaching out to help steady Bastien, who waves the soldier off.

  “I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.” Bastien’s words are more clipped than he would have liked, but he can’t seem to speak without a harsh tone for fear of allowing a tremor to enter his voice that will betray him fully. “Please send a response acknowledging your delivery.”

  Callum stares at the unopened envelope clutched tightly in Bastien’s grip. The paper begins to crinkle around his fingers. “Is there a problem?” Bastien growls, his patience growing thin.

  “Kyan waits for you now.”

  “Let him wait,” Bastien mutters and turns away. Callum clicks his heels, bows low in the usual sign of respect that Bastien has not fully come to understand or accept, and hurries away. On Earth, Bastien had been held in high regard for his time spent training the soldiers sent to him. He created an elite force that was feared by all who opposed them. After his time on Calisted was done, and his bargain with Kyan sealed, he had hoped to simply slip in among the masses and serve as Kyan saw fit. Unfortunately for him, Kyan saw fit to keep him as a commander, a position not only painfully visible but also widely respected.

  Bastien sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. That could have gone better. He knows that he isn’t handling this situation very well, but it’s not Callum’s fault. Running his hands through his hair to stop them from shaking, he blows out a deep, calming breath.

  His bare feet slap against the concrete floor as he weaves his way along the rooftop and descends into the heart of his outpost. It is cooler within than it was outside. The climate here is one of the first things he struggled to adjust to when Kyan first sent him to this farthest moon base. Alenida is always humid, almost to the point of his clothes feeling saturated the instant he exits the building. It is hard to breathe at times; the weight of the moisture in the air far too oppressive.

  The cool air drifting through the hallway brings sweet relief, and he can feel his body temperature normalizing once more. Bastien dips his head in acknowledgement as he passes two guards and then pushes through a set of bright red double doors at the end of the hall. He strains against their weight, reminded once more of the difference in gravity here.

  Crossing the room, he gives little thought to the decor as the door hisses closed behind him and the air locks re-engage. After living here for three months he has yet to officially move into his quarters. He has zero personal belongings to call his own. No photos. No gifts from his friends. He didn’t even keep the letter that Niyah sent to him not long after he was stationed here. It has remained unopened, just like the one currently crumpled in his hand.

  He didn’t need to know what that note said either. There was nothing Niyah could say that would ever make him forgive her betrayal. Her actions that day at Drakon’s base are simply inexcusable. To turn her back on her own men for the sake of mere jealousy is beyond something that he can comprehend. Good soldiers died that day. He came far too close to death himself.

  Lost in thought, his feet whisper across the plush emerald carpet, a perfect match for the jungle tones that brighten his room. A huge domed window curves against the far wall, giving him an excellent view
of the ravine as night begins to fall. As he looks to the horizon he finds himself captivated by the sliver of light still left, just before Calisted eclipses the sun and darkness falls across the land.

  “I guess I can’t delay any longer,” he says with a sigh. Bastien approaches the opposite side of the room and taps the screen of a black monitor that rests sunken into the wall. He waits impatiently for the connection. It is usually slowest during this time of night when the moons and planet are aligned.

  It has been nearly a month since he last spoke with Kyan, and in his opinion it is too soon. His pain is still raw. His willpower is too fragile to be reminded of anything or anyone close to her, yet Kyan has insisted on keeping tabs on him.

  The image that appears before him is slightly blurred, no doubt from satellite disruption with the newly fallen night. They have been working to triangulate the signal with higher efficiency, but Bastien hasn’t really needed that to be at the top of his priority list. Not with so many other things to task his time.

  “It’s good to see you, Bastien,” Kyan says the instant the image jerks and comes into clarity. His responding nod of agreement feels forced. “You got my message, I see.”

  “It just walked through the door.” His friend’s lips twitch at the corners but he remains unusually quiet. That doesn’t bode well in Bastien’s opinion. “Is there something I can do for you, Kyan?”

  “You know why I’m calling…” Kyan pauses. Bastien’s adam’s apple bobs as he forces himself to nod, trying to keep a straight face. “I’m worried about you.”

  “No need,” he responds with a definitive gruffness to his tone. Bastien clears his throat and offers a strained smile in response. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you?” Kyan’s image shifts, his face coming in for a close up as he leans in and draws a chair beneath him. When he sinks back into the chair, Bastien can see the stress lines carved deep into the skin about his friend’s eyes, trailing across his forehead.

  Bastien tries to push Kyan’s words off with an indifferent shrug but he knows it’s no use. He sinks down onto the edge of his bed, feeling the soft comforter cushion him. He spreads his legs to shoulder width and leans forward on his knees, rubbing his hands together as he lowers his gaze. “I will be. Someday.”

  Kyan’s sigh sounds as if it originates from within Bastien’s room, weighted and achingly familiar. “I am truly sorry, my friend.”

  This Bastien already knows. Kyan has said these exact same words every time they have spoken and it never gets any easier. Although he appreciates his friend’s sincerity, it has become an unwanted burden. He would rather forget, to push aside the past and move on as if it never existed. It is a good idea...in theory.

  “Is there a purpose for this call or are you just doing your monthly check in?” Bastien lifts his gaze, almost hoping that it is the latter.

  Yet again the past begins to encroach on his thoughts. His mind drifts toward Niyah, toward the bond they were meant to share, but he knows that he could never entertain the thought of a relationship with her, genetic bonding or not. Happiness is not an option for him. He has accepted this. Kyan, on the other hand, seems to have not given up that hope yet.

  Kyan glances back over his shoulder as if he has heard something. Bastien realizes with a start that his friend is not dressed in his usual black uniform but rather in an all-white, crisply pressed suit. It looks odd against his paling skin. Kyan has obviously spent far too much time in councils and war meetings of late.

  This is not all that Bastien notices. Upon his breast is a row of medals, not all unlike what his parents had told him the military generals from Earth used to wear. They shine like diamonds as he shifts in the light. Bastien’s gaze flits over his friend’s groomed state and frowns.

  “What’s going on, Kyan?”

  His friend pauses, his head tilted slightly and his hand raised for silence. When he turns back, annoyance pinches his handsome features. “I am sorry. I’m being summoned.”

  “Summoned for what?”

  Kyan’s eyes narrow and then glance away. “Are you not aware of what day it is?”

  Bastien rubs the back of his neck, instantly reminded of his need for a shower as his fingers carve through the moist hairs. He shakes his head. “Nah. The days all sort of roll together for me now.”

  “I thought you knew.” His friend sighs and sinks back into his chair. He covers his mouth, as if unwilling to speak and then releases a deep breath. “Today is the royal wedding.”

  Those five words shatter Bastien’s existence. The pain swoops in with such shocking intensity that he clasps his stomach and doubles over as if he has been subjected to a literal punch in the gut. A strangled moan escapes his lips. He can hear Kyan calling his name but he does not care. He cannot.

  How could he not have known? Was it willful denial that led him to lose count of the days? Was there some unconscious need that kept him training for hours on end alone on the rooftop instead of down with the men?

  “I must go.” Kyan’s words break through his panic and Bastien raises up.

  “Wait!” Now that Kyan is here Bastien finds so many things that he wishes he could say. It’s not easy being one of only two people who truly know his identity. Kyan’s ability to wipe memories enabled Bastien to slip away without any awkward goodbyes but it has also left him feeling empty, a black hole with emotions that can't be shared with anyone for fear that everything will unravel.

  No one apart from Kyan knows he even existed before the attack on the palace, in which King Aloysius died and the government was finally overthrown. That is how Bastien wanted it. Of course Kyan’s reach does not extend beyond those he comes in physical contact with, so each of the men selected to be stationed at this moon base were chosen personally by Kyan. It was the only way for the ruse to work.

  Kyan turns back toward the screen, his hand poised over the disconnect button. Bastien sucks in a small breath, holding it till his lungs begin to burn before he releases it to speak. “Will you give her a message for me?”

  His friend frowns. “I’m not so sure that is a good idea…”

  “Please,” Bastien pleads. He rises and approaches the screen. “I just...I need her to know to be careful.”

  Kyan sits back, steepling his fingers before him. “Is there some threat that I should know about?”

  “No,” Bastien draws out, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. His muscles ache but he ignores the pain. He thrives off of it. It’s the only thing that reminds him that he’s still alive when all he can focus on is the hole in his chest that will never mend. “I just...just watch over her for me, ok?”

  Kyan offers him a sad smile. “I always do.”

  “And Kyan,” Bastien calls as his friend begins to turn away. “Can you tell her that I wish her all the best?”

  His friend’s hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed and Bastien grimaces, shaking his head. “Never mind. That would probably just confuse her, wouldn’t it?”

  “A little,” Kyan admits. He turns slightly away from the screen and holds up his hand.

  “Are you walking her down the aisle?” Bastien’s voice wavers slightly and he clears his throat.

  Kyan nods. The lines around his eyes become more prominent. “Her father’s illness has weakened him too much, so he asked that I take his place at her side.”

  Bastien nods, feeling his throat begin to clench. Soon he won’t be able to speak or hold back the tears that threaten to fall. He closes his eyes and turns away. News of her father’s illness upsets him, knowing how much she must be hurting and how he is incapable of being there for her.

  It’s not my right to be. I gave that up.

  “I truly am sorry, Bastien.” Kyan’s whisper tears at Bastien’s heart, wrenching a sob from his throat. He presses a trembling hand to his lips and nods.

  “Me too,” he whispers. It takes him a moment to regain control before he turns to offer Kyan a pained smile. “Keep her safe for me,” he whisper
s.

  “Always.” Kyan places his fist against the screen and waits. Bastien’s steps are wooden as he approaches and places his fist to the monitor, a Caldonian sign of true friendship. “Goodbye, my friend.”

  Bastien slides his hand across the screen and punches the disconnect button. The screen goes black and his hand falls away. He walks toward the window, staring through his tears at Calisted, knowing that he is missing a wedding that will bring great joy to everyone living on that planet. Earth will rejoice as peace is finally brought to both peoples.

  But Bastien can't bring himself to feel an ounce of joy, for there is none left in him to be found. The closest moon, far smaller than the one he resides on, rises before him with a swirl of deep reds and dotted with sapphire clouds that match his own eye color. In less than an hour it will eclipse the base’s view and completely block Calisted.

  A luminous scarlet glow lights his feet as he presses a button on a control panel on the wall and the domed glass window splits in half, disappearing into the top and bottom of the window frame.

  The heat that hits him is stifling, but welcoming at the same time. The dancing waters of the Daldorian waterfall can be heard over the song birds nestling down in their beds. The falls call to him. He knows that beside them he might be able to drown out his thoughts, even if only briefly.

  Time passes slowly as he stands on the threshold of the window, listening. As the last sliver of Calisted disappears from sight, flashes of light soar high into the air. He lifts his gaze as brilliant blues, purples and reds burst like fireworks over the jungle canopy. Shouts of joy rise from across the base. The clanging of pots and pans can be heard from the far end of the building as cooks leave their meal preparations to celebrate. Bells and shrill whistles announcing the conclusion of the royal wedding echo in Bastien’s ears as he lowers his head.

  He grips the edge of his window with trembling fingers, his toes curling over the ledge. Winds buffet him, rising from within the great depths of the ravine. It is nearly a two hundred foot drop straight down to reach the canopy below. Bastien’s tears fall unheeded as he is overcome with grief.